I turned away from him, waving for another round of whiskey. Being drunk was the best option lately. Whatever games he played, I wasn’t interested in the details. We were associates, not romantically paired.
“You look lovely tonight,” he said, picking up a drink offered out to him.
“Not my choice of evening attire, if I’m being honest. Too gaudy for my tastes.” I refused to look him in the eyes.
I broke all personal relationships off–too complicated. I told him to leave me alone permanently unless it was for business. What reason would I have to be jealous?
“You know she’s bluffing, right? She bought her own damn ring to flaunt around. Most people know she’s lying through her teeth in order to get me to bend the knee.” He scooted closer, hoping I’d look at him.
“Doesn’t matter.” The alcohol stopped burning my throat weeks ago. I relished how it warmed my veins and put me to sleep after a while.
“You can’t ignore me forever, Blondie. Plus, we have a meeting the day after your birthday to discuss things between our companies.”
Oh right, he was CEO of Chamberlain Industries. It was blasted all over the news.
Augustus Vaughn concedes international conglomerate, Chamberlain Industries, to his grandson, Brent Vaughn. He says he’s excited about the future and trajectory of their multi-generational endeavors.
That headline came as no shock when he told us that Brent was going to take over. It shocked Brent, but not me. Augustus looked like he had tricks up his sleeve.
You didn’t get to the top without tricks up your sleeve.
“It’s not my company,” I scoffed.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he whispered, getting closer.
Damn him for giving me goosebumps.
“Trust me, we’re working around the clock to figure things out in just a few short days until I’m twenty-one. My birthday is a meeting day. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
I pushed away from the bar, deciding that I was done.
Done with playing nice.
Done with these fake friends.
Done with the parties.
It was time I learned how my mom took over the world.