Page 52 of Play Dirty

Ah. God, I really want to say something like, Well, playing is my speciality, right? But what’s the point of hinting at things to come? It will come whether I hint or not. “You have something I want. I have something you need. We’re making a business deal, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Alexander says. I slide his glass over to him on the polished bar. He looks down at it, then back up at me.

“And some fun,” I say, shrugging. “Don’t tell me you two are getting cold feet?” I direct this to Augustine, because she’s the instigator of this whole fucked-up plan, not Alexander.

“We know you well,” Alexander says. “And when you suddenly come off as over-accommodating it’s a flashing red warning sign.”

I don’t remark on that. Because they’re right.

Instead I hold up my glass and say, “To the new us.”

And smile.

CHAPTER NINE

I sip, but they don’t . And hell, even though the drinks tonight were put out as prop pieces in the game, the Hedonism was a damn good choice.

“Come on, Jordan,” Alexander says. “What’s this about?”

“It’s me, seeing clearly.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Augustine asks.

I mean… I should be asking them this question, right? Have been asking, actually. So it feels really good to have them on the defensive.

This is where I belong. On this side of things. The instigator. The master.

The light in here is low. Not because I planned it that way with candles, but because several of the wall sconces have burnt-out bulbs that I was too lazy to change over the past few months. So there’s only two working behind the desk on the other side of the room, and the chandelier over the wet bar. This lighting complements her the way an illusion tricks the eye. Because it makes her look soft and soft was never something Augustine ever was.

The fight can’t be erased. Not by something as fragile as light. So even though her skin is glowing and all her angles are smooth, she is still very hard.

“The change of heart,” I say, repeating her question. “Well, let’s just say I see this game for what it is. I talked the whole thing through with a friend this afternoon and she gave me the insight I needed.”

“Such as?” Alexander asks.

“Look, I get it. You need me to save your marriage. Fine. I’m here to do that. In return”—I look at Augustine now—“you give what I need back.”

“The building,” she says.

“The building.” As if it needs confirming.

“But that was the original deal,” she says. “So what’s different?”

Perceptive, Augustine. “That,” I say, pointing at the camera on the fireplace mantle. “And that one too.” I point to another one on a shelf behind the desk. “I have seven in here. So I want a token of faith.”

“A video,” Alexander huffs. “Didn’t you learn your lesson back in LA?”

“Didn’t you learn yours?” I quip back.

“Why? To use against us?”

“If I have to,” I say, taking a sip of my drink to let that sink in. “I mean… trust, right? It’s a hard thing to come by. And I don’t trust you. And I’m sure you don’t trust me. So… I’m gonna make the movie of us and when you sell me the building, I’ll give it back to you. No copies will be made. I’ll sign whatever you want to make sure no one ever sees it. But that’s my new condition. I need insurance.”

They both inhale. Exhale. Look at each other. Look away.

“Fine.” Augustine shrugs. Then walks over to the leather couch and sits daintily. Which I love. Because it’s an act. Her legs are long and they fold up and tilt to the side a little. A very sexy sitting position, if I do say so. “What do you have in mind tonight?”

“Sex,” I say. “What else is there between us?”