Page 94 of Tips and Trysts

But Felix doesn’t actually see anyone but himself. Even when he holds my gaze for far longer than a moment, I know he doesn’t really see me.

“I have to go,” I murmur.

And when my friends look over their shoulders and see Felix, they don’t try to stop me. They know me well enough not to.

I leave the lounge, and sure enough, Felix appears in the paneled hallway, strolling with his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit pants. When he approaches me, his expression is altogether too smug.

“Well, look at you,” he comments, and his voice is still horrendously familiar.

He looks the same too. He’s such a handsome man, classically attractive in all the ways people pretend to resent: blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, a mathematically perfect jawline, and a breathtaking smile only sterling genetics and the best orthodontist on the Upper East Side could achieve.

The only reason I’m not dousing his blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and mathematically perfect jawline with gin and tonic is because I left my drink on the table.

Annoyingly unarmed, I resort to asking, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I feel like I should ask you the same,” Felix replies before tilting his head. “You look good, Flores. More holes than I remember, although not tonight, I see...” His eyes flick over my piercing-free face. “How interesting.”

“Are you following me?”

“In what world,” he replies, taking a step closer, “would I expect to see you at a mixer hosted by the Governor of Virginia?”

“Everett’s my friend,” I reply, lying—but if anyone deserves to be lied to, it’s this guy: a man who practically seeps manipulation through his pores.

“The infamous Everett Logan. I haven’t met him yet, but I’ve heard he’s charming. Supernaturally handsome up-close, apparently. What are your thoughts? Any comment?”

I glare. Based on how Felix posed those questions, I’d bet a tit he has a recording device on him right now.

Felix stares back at me just as hard and says, “You know what I miss about you, Cora?”

“How I used to make you come so hard that you’d cry and tell me you’ve always been the black sheep and wished your parents loved you like I did?”

Felix blinks and begins to stammer pathetically; he was never quick enough to keep up with me.

“You’re here for a scoop,” I fill in, sparing him.

Even though I’m right, he still finds his wits and says, “I wrote a bestseller. I’m not scrounging for scoops, love.”

The sound of a door opening makes Felix and me turn, and Everett appears in the hallway. His expression is expectant at first but fades when he sees me with Felix.

“Everett Logan,” Felix calls out, bobbing his chin and waving. “Or should I say, Representative Logan.”

“Primary isn’t over,” Everett remarks, holding out his hand. “Felix J. Worthington. I’ve heard so much about you.”

They shake hands. Both of them are well aware they’re not being cordial.

“Cora was just telling me what great friends you are,” Felix mentions.

“The best,” Everett replies, still holding eye contact until he looks over at me. Somehow, all it takes is a glance and he knows I want this fuckergone. He looks back at Felix and raises his eyebrow, now sporting an annoyed expression like Felix is a leaflet someone tucked into his windshield wipers. “Well, it was great to meet you, Felix. I would say I’d appreciate your vote, but you’re a New Yorker, right?”

“For now. I’m moving to DC soon.”

Everett dips his chin, pretending to care. “What brings you to the District?”

“I’m in an interview cycle for an anchor role at 24N.” He leans in, conspiratorial, and winks like a douchebag. “That’s a secret, by the way, but the two of you seem like you’re good at keeping secrets.” He straightens his spine and grins, making a show of adjusting his jacket. “Great to see you both.”

With an obnoxious salute, Felix saunters away, and Everett and I don’t move until he disappears back into the lounge.

Immediately, Everett leads me down the hallway to a dark, empty sitting room. “What was that? How do you know him?” he asks as soon as the door shuts.

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