Page 84 of Swerve
?Jean Nidetch
FORTUNATELY, THEIR TABLE sits at an angle that allows Knox a clear view of Senator Hagan without Hagan seeing him. Not that Hagan would have noticed, even if the tables had been angled differently. He seems quite focused on his dinner companion, a young, notably confident guy in an obviously expensive suit.
It seems an odd match. Business meeting, he supposes, but there is something interesting in the way Hagan appears so attentive to the other man’s every word. His gaze barely leaves the man’s face. He could wonder if there was something other than business going on, but Hagan doesn’t seem the type.
The waitress has just placed Emory’s entrée—a vegetable plate with mashed potatoes and creamed corn—in front of her when the younger man leaves the table to follow the hostess out of the dining area. Knox lets his gaze follow him out, then glances back at Hagan. The senator takes a sip from the wineglass in front of him, then sets it back down. He glances at the doorway through which the younger man has just disappeared, then reaches across the table for his wineglass.
This seems odd to Knox, so he continues watching. The senator reaches in his pocket. Knox can’t see what he takes out. Whatever it is, he holds it beneath the table and then, lightning quick, raises his hand and flips something into the glass of wine.
What the hell? Did he just put something in the other man’s drink?
“What is it?” Emory asks, noticing that Knox is staring across the room.
“I’m not sure,” he says, shaking his head.
“Do you know him?” she asks, following his view to Hagan’s table.
“Indirectly.”
“What does that mean?”
He looks at Emory then, aware that he is about to change any positive opinion she might have begun to develop of him. “That’s Senator Tom Hagan. His wife is the reason I’m on leave.”
Her eyes widen as he watches her process what he’s said, and it’s clear this is the last thing she expects to hear. “Oh.”
“Yeah. I have no idea how we both ended up here at the same time. But I’m fairly sure he just spiked his dinner companion’s wine.”
“What? Are you kidding?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Why would he do that? Although I can understand why he would spike yours.”
“At least you still have your sense of humor.”
“Did you see him do it?”
“I did.”
“Are you going to tell the guy?”
All decency dictates that he should, but he is going on gut here, and something isn’t right. Not about what he just witnessed. And not about this place.
“Let’s drag this dinner out as long as we need to see what happens from here.”
“But this doesn’t have anything to do with Mia and Grace.”
“Almost for sure not.”
“We’re wasting time, Knox.”
“Probably, but—”
“I know. The next dot.”
“Two desserts then?”
“Why not?”
