“Try me.”
She places her fork on the table, her chocolate mousse barely touched. “All right.” She crosses her legs, leaning back in her seat. “You have something that belongs to me. I want it.”
I blink. I didn’t keep anything of hers ten years ago…
Oh, wait…
Julian. Did he call her to
gloat and imply he gave me the painting?
“Let’s suppose you’re right and you need to be my best friend. How about you cut support to Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Chuck?” My uncle is currently a congressional representative in Washington, D.C., and receives tons of support from the Pryce family. I want both of them finished. I’ll never forgive her—or Elizabeth—for doing their best to put me in a cage.
“That would be up to the family to decide, not me,” Elizabeth says.
“You and I know you’re the one in charge of such things.”
“I manage political donations because the family’s always had the person responsible for the foundation take care of it. If you don’t want your uncle to win, put your money and support behind his opponent. That’s how it’s played in the political arena.”
“If you’re going to continue to support Dorothy and Chuck, what good are you?”
“I can open certain doors for you. Potentially profitable ones.”
“That’s what my money’s for.”
“Sometimes money isn’t enough. I understand that some of your ventures are stalled at the moment.”
I narrow my eyes. I have a few that are experiencing the usual bullshit, mostly in Asia, but I doubt her influence extends that far. Still, it’ll be amusing to watch her fail. “Then show me, and we’ll see.” I glance at my watch. “When is the server coming with our check?”
“It’s been taken care of.”
Annoying. I prefer that she buy me nothing. “One lousy dinner won’t even the score.”
“I never expected it to.” Then she adds something that sounds like “You’re an expensive man to appease.”
A retort rises to my lips, but I bite it back. I’m not stooping to her level and arguing about our past in public. And I’m certain she picked La Mer specifically to avoid a scene.
We walk out together, the tension thick and ugly. Right outside the main entrance, we almost run into a couple.
I start to apologize, then stop when I see it’s Marcella, the green-eyed brunette who brought Elizabeth to the bar ten years ago. I haven’t run into her since then…but I could never forget her.
She’s still ordinary, although her lips are fuller, most likely due to the help of a surgeon. Her eyes have gained a harder, more brittle edge. They flare with envy as they take in Elizabeth’s clothes and shoes.
Marcella’s black cocktail dress and pumps aren’t the most fashionable or luxurious, but they’re certainly acceptable. But I suspect that isn’t enough—just like it wasn’t ten years ago.
But the envy is erased in a flash. “Elizabeth!” Her mouth curves into a smile.
“Marcella. So good to run into you,” Elizabeth says warmly.
They hug, placing air kisses. Elizabeth pulls back first. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been?”
“Great, of course. And you’re also doing fantastic, or so I read online.” Marcella gestures at her date. “Have you met Syd Burton? He’s a junior partner at Washington Lowe.”
“I don’t believe I have.” Elizabeth shakes hands with the clean-cut man, her manners exquisitely cordial. She turns to Marcella again. “You remember Dominic, don’t you?”
Marcella’s left eyebrow twitches briefly, but her smile doesn’t falter. “Of course. Wow! Look at you! I almost didn’t recognize you.” Her eyes catalogue my clothes and watch with precision.
Cynicism tugs at my mouth. “Why would you? We haven’t seen each other since my bartending years in college.” Did she just turn pale?