Chapter 12 #3
I twist sharply to face him and whisper through gritted teeth.
‘No. The truth is you shouldn’t even know about that deal, but you got too close.
It’s business, not personal, Clark. Is that why you slept with me?
To find out what I was going to tender?’ I don’t even know why I say it. I know it isn’t true.
He takes his hand from my back. ‘Get over yourself, Dayna.’
I watch him walk away shaking his head, my mouth open. I really want to argue, but it was a ridiculous thing to say. I take my seat, more annoyed with myself than him.
‘Walter, it’s nice to see you,’ I lie, turning to the pleasantly plump, golf-course-tanned president of Raw Energy.
The smarmy git runs his dirty eyes over my body, not something I’m ever in the mood for, but something I’m really not in the mood for now.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever met your wife, Walter. ’
He clears his throat, rolling his second chin as he does. ‘Crystal, this is Dayna Cross. I’m sure you ladies can find something to talk about.’
I scowl at him as I offer my hand to his wife. ‘Pleasure to meet you.’
She reaches out her jewel-covered fingers, a thin diamond bracelet falling forwards on her wrist as she shakes my handle feebly.
‘Hi. Which one is your husband?’ she asks.
I’m going to need another dry martini. Or ten.
* * *
Dinner was painful but I was nowhere near Kahn, and it’s over now. It’s after ten, so I feel like I can legitimately slope off to bed in another half-hour or so. I just need to mingle enough. Let the industry see my presence. Then I’m out of here.
The men at my table stand without asking me if I’d care to join them at the bar.
I make a trip to the ladies’, leaving their wives discussing aquamarine, sapphire and ruby as choices of stone in hair vines for up-dos.
They’ll no doubt stay there while their husbands send a limitless supply of champagne to appease them.
The men will be drinking brandy, smoking cigars or playing poker for ridiculously high stakes in games that no one is supposed to know about.
After my pit stop, I head to the bar for one last drink.
As I’m waiting for the bartender to mix me another dry martini, I clock Hassan Deeb talking to Caspar on the opposite side of the bar.
Caspar’s attention is fixed on me with a look of loathing.
I’d be willing to bet my life that Hassan just filled Caspar in on my proposed alternative bid.
My heart starts racing; sweat forms in the palm of my hands. Yet, I take my dry martini with confidence I don’t feel and raise my glass, smirking at Caspar. As much as I hate him, as much as he intimidates me, I can’t help but be smug because I’ve rattled him.
You’re going to lose this battle, you bastard.
My free arm is yanked suddenly. Clark drags me through a door to the side of the bar and into a small room hosting a poker table, set but not yet with a dealer or players.
I have time to put down my glass and shake the spilled alcohol from my fingers before Clark forces me back against the wall with his body.
His face is close to mine and there’s a wild look in his eyes that’s unmistakably fury.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ he asks.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Goading Caspar. Selling yourself to Hassan Deeb. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what you’re offering the government, Dayna. You’re giving them a stake because you think you can turn a better profit than the rest of us from that well.’
I push his chest, surprised by how easily he moves back. ‘What if I am? It’s a good plan. You’re pissed that I can offer it, just like Kahn is.’
He moves a hand to his hip, pushing back his dinner jacket, so I can see where his muscles cut in under his white shirt. ‘It is a good plan. If you want to be in bed with men like that. You know their reputation, Dayna. They’re dangerous. You can’t do this. I won’t let you.’
‘Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?’
He softens his tone. ‘I’m someone who cares about you. If you were mine, there’s no way I’d let you do this. Whether we’re together or not, as a friend, I’m asking you not to go through with it.’
Emotion threatens to take over my senses.
He’s called me on my own worries about the deal.
And he’s here again, telling me he cares.
But that look on Caspar’s face, that’s what this deal is about.
It’s bigger than Clark. Bigger than me or us.
‘I’m grateful for your concern, Clark, but I have to do this. It’s the only way I can win.’
He steps closer to me again, his hands on my shoulders, his face pleading with me. ‘So lose. Take the next opportunity.’
‘You don’t understand. I need this well.’
He brings his palm to my cheek in the familiar way he does. ‘Dayna, if this is about you being respected, you are. The men in that room don’t like you because you terrify them. What you’ve done with SP intimidates them.’
‘It’s not about that. It’s so much more than that.’ I peel his hand away from my face. He doesn’t fight me as I push off the wall and leave through another door, avoiding the bar and heading straight to my hotel room.