Page 100 of Deceit

“And I’ll keep the drug dealer occupied until then.” Plucking two champagne glasses off a passing tray, Bishop quashes the rest of the space between us.

“Occupy with him passed out on the fucking floor, right, Ems?” His tone molds into a menacing red flag. That he doesn’t like my idea or the fact that I’ll be alone with anyone, let alone a man.

“Yes,” I agree, aware not to even try to argue with him. Offering him the flute of golden liquid that fizzes along the glass, Bishop makes sure to brush his fingers against mine.

“You win, Ems.”

Write this day down.

Lifting my beverage, I say, “To the new man of the house. You need to knock down the decor though, it’s too much.”

Taking a sip of the bubbly liquid, Bishop watches me with an expressionless look on his face as he takes one of his own.

“Ready?” Pivoting on my four-inch heels, Bishop faithfully follows.

I know that William Wamkin has sandy blonde hair, is somewhat built, and looks like an entitled prick that’s never done a hard day’s work in his life.

But appearances can be deceiving. I’m living proof of that.

Outside of B723, no one would ever guess that I’ve killed several people in my lifetime. That I can hack into a bank account within three minutes and empty it. How I can hot-wire a car, choke someone out with a Japanese weapon, and climb a roof…with some assistance.

I’m not scared of the darkness of the world, just that I’d lose one of my own to it.

People around us chat with custom drinks as classical music plays softly in the background. You can feel the wealth dripping from the room. The entitlement and power that thickens the air as Bishop and I make our way to the back of the house.

When we get outside to the patio, it gives me an opportunity to study the crowd further. Bishop leans over the railing to view the ocean. The pinks and oranges are beginning to form in the sky over the beautiful darkness of the water.

“There’s a bunch of young dudes to my right gawking at you,” he mutters with his back to the party. “You said he was a dirty blonde?”

“Yep.”

“Mid-thirties?”

“Thirty-two,” I reply over the rim of my glass.

“I have more of a chance than you. He’s closer to my age.”

I scowl. “Are you starting this shit again?”

“He might not be into older women.”

“But he’d be into older dudes?” I steal a glance at him, smirking over his champagne. “Give it a shot. He could be gay.”

“Yeah, but if he touches me, I’ll end up punching him in the throat. You should probably try first.”

“Get lost then, or they’re going to think we’re together.” My eyes lock with a guy with medium-brown hair and George Clooney vibes.

“It won’t stop a dude with money and privilege.“ He turns his body to face me. “And if he’s straight, there’ll be no turning you down in that dress.”

I jerk my head to the side. “Alright…now move, you’re cramping my style. I’ve made eye contact and just demeaned myself by batting my eyelashes.”

I think I hear Bishop chuckle as I make my way back inside the house to make it appear as though he’s either a friend or acquaintance.

The point is to look available.

Discovering Kyson stalking the masses like a shark, his eyes land on me, and I jerk my head slightly for him to come to me.

“What’s up?” he asks. “Where’s Bishop?”

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