The prolonged attention made me want to squirm. Why was he staring?
It lasted seconds but felt like hours, and I had the sense Ozrik was trespassing inside the private spaces in my mind where he had no right to stray. When it got to be too much, I broke eye contact, ducked my chin, and focused on my knotted fingers.
Ozrik’s buddy called for him to catch up. He didn’t move.
Olivia heedlessly knocked him out of the way as she approached the counter. “Your boys are calling, Devereaux. Get going.”
I glanced up in time to see Ozrik stumble out of her way. His attention shifted to my sister. “Oh, hello, Olivia. Fancy meeting you here.” I didn’t miss the way he took her in head to toe—with interest, fascination, and appreciation.
Like a man with lewd thoughts and a swollen ego.
Olivia didn’t notice, too engrossed in a conversation with the secretary.
One of Ozrik’s comrades reappeared and snagged his arm. “Dude, come on. What are you doing?”
As Ozrik was dragged off, he dashed one last glance over his shoulder. At me. With a grin and a sly wink, he and his friend vanished down the hall.
A wink. He winked at me. What was that about?
I checked if anyone else had noticed. Jazz was too busy staring at his phone, and Maggie was picking at her chipped nail polish.
Roe met my gaze, huffed, and rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. He’s an idiot.”
I agreed with a silent smile and focused on my knotted fingers, on my jittering knees, and on the cooling sweat in my armpits. In the dark recesses of my mind, where disavowed secrets lived, I pretended there was an alternate meaning to that wink.
But that was a joke. Guys like Ozrik Devereaux didn’t look twice at guys like me, unless it was to taunt and tease and bully them. Besides, even if he was remotely interested, I was in no way prepared to explore that part of myself.
Olivia finished at the counter and announced that we were to follow the other group to the same conference room. The rest of the team departed, but I remained seated.
“Are you coming, Gale?” Olivia asked at the mouth of the hallway.
“Can I say no?”
“Nope.”
Olivia advanced and drew me to my feet before hooking her arm with mine. She steered us along a corridor and into a vast conference room with a long table and bright sunlight streaming through a massive floor-to-ceiling window. The rain moving through Beckham County would miss Oklahoma City by a hair.
I was partial to rain. It was the music of my soul. I found serenity in the rain.
Roe, Maggie, and Jazz stood motionless inside the door as though awaiting their leader’s instructions on where to sit. The only other people present were the crew from Twisted Fates, who had all taken seats on the left-hand side of the table.
They looked at us.
We looked at them.
No one spoke.
Anticipation and burning hostility raised the room’s temperature by 10 degrees.
Suddenly parched, I zeroed in on the glasses and pitchers of water spread at intervals along the length of the table. I wanted a drink. I wanted to wait in the car. What had I agreed to?
A presentation display screen and a laptop sat at the far end of the table near the window. Otherwise, the seats on the right-hand side remained available. Olivia motioned for us to take them.
Once settled, my sister, rarely intimidated by anyone, folded her hands together and addressed Ozrik, who sat directly across from her.
“So, Devereaux. What brings your crew to the city this morning? Did you misread your weather charts?” She squinted into the bright sunlight streaming through the window. “Am I missing something?”
Boldness was a personality trait I didn’t share with my sister—one of many. Quarreling amused Olivia, and she often instigated confrontations for the sheer pleasure, while I did everything in my power to avoid them. She especially enjoyed messing with wiseasses who thought they were superior in any way.
