Page 77 of Be With Me
When they did, I felt an electric jolt. Her shoulder lifted slightly, and then she looked away. It was like I was nothing. Like I was a stranger.
Like I was a ghost.
My jaw tightened.
The president of the club approached her with his hand outstretched. She met him with a radiant smile—one I wished was directed at me—and shook his hand.
Then his palm landed on the small of her back.
A little too fucking low.
I glowered as he guided her toward a passing waiter with a tray of champagne flutes. She took one, her head tilting back as she laughed at something the old man said. She was animated, engaged.
What the hell did they have in common?
That guy was a million years old and looked like he needed a nap halfway through his own sentence.
And yet she gave him her attention.
Her smiles.
“Wow,” Cosimo drawled, swirling the whiskey in his glass as he watched Mia. "You really are her dirty little secret, aren’t you? She barely spared you a glance."
I dragged my teeth over my bottom lip, tamping down the flicker of irritation curling through my chest. “I should’ve known better than to bring you as my plus-one.”
"Come on." He chuckled. “You’ve given me enough shit about Fabiana. Now it’s my turn to give you shit abouther."
I glanced at him. He was still staring at Mia, his gaze cold and assessing.
"Stop staring at her fucking ass," I muttered.
"Wasn’t. But now I am."
My grip on my glass tightened. He was just trying to rile me up, and I hated that it was working.
"So are you getting any or what? Mom made it sound like you were still trying to convince her you're worth the time of day."
I exhaled through my nose. "Jesus. Is that what you and Mother talk about? My sex life?"
Across the room, my attention snagged on Andrei fucking Baranov. The son of a bitch had slithered up to Mia and the president. He was wearing the same smug, entitled expression he always did, like the entire world was an amusement park built for his entertainment. The son of a Belarusian construction magnate, he'd been raised on wealth, power, and the belief that everything was his for the taking.
And right now, he was looking at Mia.
Like she was free for his taking, too.
"Not really. I mostly talk with her about business,” Cos said, pulling me back. “But she tells me when she’s annoyed with you. Probably because she thinks if I apply pressure, you’ll work harder."
"And do you?" I asked, barely listening. Andrei was shaking Mia’s hand now, his filthy paw lingering too long. She smiled at him—sweet, innocent, oblivious—and it made my blood boil.
"I let her think I do. We both know that’s not true. But if nodding and pretending I’ll handle it gets her to ease up on you, I’m happy to play along."
"Didn’t know you had my back like that with her,” I muttered. Baranov laughed at something Mia said, his hand brushing her arm. If he kept that up, I was going to break his wrist.
Cosimo sniffed. "Yeah, well. Making up for the times I didn’t."
That got me to glance at him. “The fuck are you talking about?"
“The year after Les and I moved out.” He rolled his glass between his palms, suddenly looking thoughtful. "You changed that year."
