“Thanks.”
“What did you want to talk about?” he asks into his drink.
My finger rims the edge of the cold glass and I purse my lips. I decide to go straight in, not giving myself time to chicken out. Taking a huge gulp for courage, I wince as it goes down but push on: “I have something to tell you aboutSocieteur. It’s Dharmash. I don’t knowwhen it started but the press have been following you all this time because he’s been paying them out of Ignite’s pocket.”
I let out a lungful of air.
The dark side of his face flickers in the dim candlelight as he turns to the bartender. “Can I get another, please?” He points to his empty glass.
“You’re being surprisingly chill about this.”
“I know.”
“You know you’re being surprisingly chill?”
“No,I know. I know about Dharmash.”
My mouth hangs open. “What the fuck?”
“Well, I had my suspicions. I just didn’t want to believe it. Then I got a call from a friend a few days ago, when we were at Fair Play.”
I recall his stony face when he was on the phone, similarly hunched over.
“She saidSocieteurhad called her for a quote about our ‘secret rendezvous’ the night before.” Seeing my face, he adds, “She’s an estate agent; we met up to discuss Iris’s options. Whether I could contribute to her rent or be her guarantor or something if she wanted to get a place of her own. I had it in my work calendar asDinner with Isabella. The only person who has access to my work calendar besides me is Dharmash.”
“Have you told him you know?”
“Nope.” The bartender places a fresh frosted glass in front of him and he takes a sip; his jaw winces as the spirit hits his tongue.
“Why not? Surely he’d stop if you confronted him.”
He sighs as if hereallydoesn’t want to talk about this. “Because if I did, I would have to quit. And if I quit... who would hire me? Google ‘Eric Bancroft’ and the first ten search pages are filled with stories about me. The only company who would benefit from that kind of reputation is Ignite.”
My shoulders slump to match his. “I didn’t think about it that way.”
“Yeah, you’re not the only one with boss issues,” he huffs, gulping his drink.
“I guess we have more in common than I thought.” I solemnly clink my glass against his, watching as a dimple makes a faint impression on his stubbled cheek.
He shifts, placing his elbow on the bar and turning slightly toward me. “Did you come all the way here just to tell me about Dharmash?”
I cross my legs toward him. “We said no more secrets, right?” I hesitate before adding, “And despite everything, I still care about you.”
His weary eyes soften, traveling from mine to my lips as they graze the edge of the chilled martini glass. I’m unsure whether it’s the cold liquid or the icy stare that sends a shiver down my spine. Either way, the feeling keeps traveling until it lands between my crossed legs.
He clears his throat, a slight smile returning to his lips as we inch closer together until his knee is lightly touching mine. “I thought maybe you wanted to meet to tell me you regret going on your date.”
“I don’t,” I reply matter-of-factly.
“So, he’s getting a second?” He clears his drink and gestures to the bartender for the bill.
“No.”
His knee smooths against mine, twisting me and the swivel barstool until he and I are fully facing each other.
My cheeks flush as I admit, “I don’t regret it, because it showed me what Idon’twant.”
We hold, our legs grazing as I balance my foot on his stool. Every part of me is on fire under his icy stare. I look down at his silk tie, touch it, let it glide through my fingers, resisting the urge to wrap it around my knuckles.
