“Stop it, Tristan. Save your lies and your bullshit for the Working Girl.”
“Abigail and I slept together the night before the Halloween party. Didn’t you know that? I figured you two had an open relationship.” Tristan tucks his fingers into the pockets of his slacks, his smile growing as Greg’s eyes widen with rage. He takes a step closer to her, and Greg rushes him. With an effortless sidestep, he moves out of the guy’s way, and Greg ends up crashing into Zack.
Zack shoves him to the floor, and watches the drama unfold with impassive distaste.
Tristan moves up to Abi, cupping the side of her face in his hand. Her angry expression softens, and her eyes go half-lidded. When he leans in close to whisper to her, her cheeks redden with pleasure. But as he continues talking, her eyes begin to widen and her mouth turns down in a terrified frown. Tristan pulls back and runs his thumb over her lower lip.
“When I said that Charity was off-limits, I meant it.” He releases her, and Abigail spins away, taking off across the casino with Valentina chasing after her. John helps Gregory to his feet, holding him back when Greg tries to rush Tristan again.
“You son of a bitch!” he snarls, tearing from John’s grip as Zayd howls with laughter. Creed watches the entire thing like one might watch raindrops fall outside a foggy window. He’s bored, couldn’t care less. This time, I’m pretty sure he’s not pretending. He truly just doesn’t care about Abigail and Greg. “I’m going to—”
“Going to what, Gregory?” Tristan asks, smiling at him. He’s so wicked, spinning his little webs. I wonder how he ever managed to snag a girl like Lizzie Walton. Her demeanor is essentially the opposite of his. “Defy me? Start a social war? Go ahead. We both know who’ll win.” Tristan puts his hand on Greg’s shoulder, and he shoves him off. The move doesn’t seem to bother Tristan; he just smiles wider. “You have two choices: fall in line and go find your philandering girlfriend, or declare war on me. Go ahead, I’m waiting.”
Gregory stares at Tristan for so long that I actually wonder if he’s going to do it, throw a bomb in the social scene of Burberry Prep Academy. If he hadn’t treated me so horribly before, I might feel sorry for him. Tristan’s a formidable opponent. My skin prickles, and a sheet of ice settles over my soul. Holy shit. I don’t think I’d quite grasped the kind of man I was up against.
“Fucking asshole,” Greg groans, sounding like he’s on the verge of tears. He shoves John away when he steps forward to help, and then stalks off through the gathered crowd. Nobody says a word, and soon the laughing and the drinking and the gambling starts up again.
Tristan sits back down at the table like he’s just popped over to the bathroom for a moment and come back.
“Shall we start another round?” he asks as Andrew rises to his feet.
“I’m going to take off. Marnye, I’m free tomorrow if you want to have lunch?” I nod and he smiles, a genuine sort of expression that’s almost jarring after looking at Tristan for so long. “I’ll text you.” He reaches out like he’s going to touch my arm and stops short when he sees Zayd staring at him.
After he leaves, I take my seat again.
“You hanging around, too, asshole?” Zayd asks, grinning. He just eats up the drama with a spoon. “Because if you’re panting around Charity here looking for an easy fuck, you’ll be sorely disappointed. I already asked this morning, and it was a no-go.”
“You’re beyond rude,” I grumble, watching and waiting to see what Zack’s going to do. He doesn’t say anything, just sits back down and levels his dark eyes on Zayd.
“I don’t play by your rules, Kaiser. Remember that.” He nods his chin at Tristan. “Deal the cards, and let’s go. I’m playing for Marnye again.”
“Same stakes?” Creed asks, turning his eyes to me. “Only … I want to add in a caveat that Charity won’t tell Miranda a damn thing. Seems fair to me, considering what’s on the table.”
“Agreed. If Working Girl’s going for such a huge pot, then I want something better than a borrowed car.” Zayd pauses and taps his tattooed fingers on the table. “I want a kiss. A real one. Tongue and all.” He smirks at me, and I glower back at him. “What? I’m not asking for much. It’s just a kiss.”
“Fine.” I don’t intend to lose, so I don’t care. “Deal the cards.”
He pauses as Lizzie strides up to the table, the tall guy from last night trailing behind her.
“Hey Marnye,” she says, her dark hair twisted up into a fancy knot on the back of her head, makeup dark but appropriate for the evening. She’s wearing a lavender dress that’s the perfect compliment to her amber eyes. “Zack, thanks for letting me stay in your room last night.” Zack nods, but nothing more passes between them, so I figure it was a pretty tame night. A coolness settles inside of me, and I realize that I was actually nervous, jealous maybe.
