Page 99 of Web of Lies
“You want this, right?” Seger asks. Shifting in his seat, he droops down like he can’t bear to hear my answer. The longer lengths of his hair fall into his eyes, encasing him in a protective shield. Seger may walk around like the most confident man in the world, but like every other human on the planet, he’s insecure. Especially about this. I wonder how many women he’s fallen for and has been rejected by them?
I swallow hard. I’d never thought about it. I never had a chance. They all kind of fell into my lap. Or pants. But I liked them, and they got me. Zepp reigns my mind in. Chase makes me smile. Seger makes me laugh too. He fights for me, plots with me. They protected me when danger lurked.
Seger shifts again, looking down at the menu. His leg shakes under the table, and I grab it, bringing his green eyes to mine. Doubt rushes through him as he pins me with his stare, captivating me. If my soft eyes could convey how I feel, he’d have no worry about if I wanted this or not.
“I wouldn’t have let you do those things with your talented tongue if I didn’t want you, all of you.” I squeeze his thigh, his body relaxing into my touch.
“You hear that, boys, I have a talented tongue. Beat that!” He sniggers, quickly coming out of his insecure black cloud.
“Yeah, yeah,” Chase grumbles, sitting back in his seat.
“Ahh—Mr. Benoit, how wonderful to see you again.” Chase smiles up at the man standing beside the table, looking down at him with a grin. “I see Miss Ainsley isn’t with you this evening.” He looks around the table, nodding at the other two. “Mr. West, Mr. West, and Miss?”
“Cole,” I say, tilting my head. My dad isn’t near as famous as the other guys. Usually, it’s the women, the older women, who recognize the name.
“Ah—yes, Miss Cole, so wonderful to have you. What can I start you all off with tonight?” He asks a little more loudly as loud laughs erupt from behind a swinging door behind our table.
Seger grins, digging into his back pocket. “Ya know, Jeeves, I think we’d like to start with a bottle of your best champagne. We’re celebrating.” He grins, side-eyeing me.
“Nice try, Mr. West, but I know for a fact the four of you are barely legal.” The man stiffens his posture, zoning in on Seger’s hand sliding across the table.
“Take another look and then tell me again,” The server picks up the wad of bills, and when I say wad, I mean a chunk. By the look of it, there are probably five one-hundred-dollar bills there.
His eyes widen at the sight of all the green in his hands. Peeking around, he takes notice of the other patrons focused on their meals and not him. “The best, you say?” Seger nods and then pulls out a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill.
“And some of that fake wine shit, that—” He snaps his fingers together
“Sparkling grape juice,” Zepp finishes for him.
Jeeves, or whatever his actual name is, nods, takes the cash and hurries off toward the bar.
“You remembered,” I breathe, looking over at him. He surprises me at every turn with his memory.
He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess I did.” I can’t help the smile that crosses my face as I lean over and kiss his cheek. They instantly blossom into a deep red tint.
More laughing spills out from the private room next to our table. Servers hurry out with trays in hand and worried looks on their faces.
“You must excuse the large party,” Jeeves, who I don’t know his actual name, says. He’s holding a tray with glasses, filling each of them with champagne. He gives them to us and sets the bottle back into the chilled bucket of ice with the bottle of grape juice.
Another server hurries into the room with an arm full of champagne bottles. Men in suits fill the space, red-cheeked and boozed up. Smoke pours from the cigars nestled in their mouths, with plate after plate of food lining the table. They reach across them, laughing and enjoying their conversations.
I swallow hard, taking in their cheery faces. They’re lying, cheating, manipulative, high-powered, laughing, enjoying life, and toasting each other with glass after glass of champagne.
“You’re paling,” Zepp leans in, whispering in my ear. “What’s wrong? Is this too much? Is this?”
“What? No, this is amazing,” I whisper, not taking my eyes off the men in the other room.
“What’s wrong then?” he squeezes my hand in his, bringing my attention back to him.
“I understand now,” I whisper, furrowing my brows, going over the laughing men who lined that room. “The coroner, the sheriff, the mayor, the judge—” Zepp looks back at the door and then back to me.
“They’re all in there?” I nod, trying to wrack my brain around who they all are.
They all signed off on Magnolia’s death, each stating no wrongdoing in her case. They all signed the paper saying it was a suicide, not a murder. They covered it up. Every man in that room is corrupt, and with my plans, they’ll all pay for it.
The door swings open again, staying that way. They usher in more heaps of food on trays, looking like they could feed an army, not a group of men. A man stands at the head of the table, raising a glass to his friends. They raise theirs in return, taking a long drink. The man standing is the only one I’ve never seen before. His slicked-backed blonde hair sits perfectly on top of his head, not a hair out of place. His gray suit fits his muscular form in all the right places. When I glimpse his deep brown eyes, a sense of familiarity hits me. I’ve seen them before—somewhere. I can’t place it.
“Do you know who that is?” I ask, nodding towards the man in question.
