Page 17 of Queen Of Dark Money

Theintoxicating, thick smoke was a convenient cloud that would no doubt discourage visitors from approaching me and partially conceal my face from passers-by—a double victory in my eyes.

“Yousee,Simon, this is why you’re gonna go far in the judicial world.You’vegot moxie, kid.Andyou’re like a dog with a bone.Youjust don’t let go.”

Myeyes cut to the corner whereIspotted none other thanSinclairhimself rounding the bend, a young manIdidn’t recognize in tow.Theylaughed with each other over something obscureIhad missed.Theircheap suits and shady posturing drew attention to them, obscuring the lovely woman who followed behind.

Orthey would have, if she did not shine so fucking brightly on her own.

Stunningin a silver evening gown that hugged her curves and flowed around her like a second skin, was none other thanMissSinclairherself, the shimmering blue of her eyes dulled by whatIcould only imagine was boredom.

I’dbe bored out of my mind ifIhad to follow these two half-drunk, arrogant asswipes around all night, too.

Iwaited patiently as they made their way around the patio, picking a spot not far from me to settle in and enjoy the cool night air.Thepoor girl in the dress had to be a little chilly, butIdidn’t see any men offering her their coats to keep warm.No, just like all the other men in their line of work, they were oblivious to anything with tits unless it was to ogle them and fuck them.Occasionallyto parade them around as icebreakers, or use them to raise kids and continue on their terribly bland lineage.

Ialmost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

“Thecampaign is running smoothly, sir,” the pansy-ass young man uttered eagerly, gesticulating wildly as if he could pull the numbers from the air around them to show his boss. “Yourapproval rating is up, and we’ve gotten invitations to interview for the three big networks, and two papers in town.”

EddySinclairleaned back in his seat, cut his eyes in my direction, and pulled out his own stogie, pretentiously slipping out a knife to trim off the end.Nopre-cuts for this man.Hewanted the world to know how high-class he was, and he didn’t care if he made a mess for someone else in the process. “I’mnot giving interviews to those fucking cunts atKhulaCityGazette.Allthey want to do is talk about my personal life.WhyI’mnot married, whenI’mgoing to marry off my daughter, doIhave a dog–who gives a fuck?”

So, they’re not giving you the platform you want so you can spew your hateful, gung-ho rhetoric.Thatmakes them cunts.Noted.

Hewas far from the first man to feel that way.Itjust really rankled to hear him talk so openly about it.Goton my nerves when men thought they were big and bad enough to dictate the world’s understanding of them.

Hisdaughter rolled her eyes and brushed a stray strand of hair from in front of that flawlessly made-up face, drawing my attention.WhatIreally needed was to listen in on her father, but my eyes kept getting drawn to her instead, noticing the subtle shift of her shoulders as she shivered beneath her updo, the desperation to escape that oozed from her pores, the wide-eyed look of fear when he turned to her and snarled–

“Mr.Rockwellasked you a question, dear.Perhapsyou could answer it?”

Itwas framed as a question but was anything but.Icould have imagined it, but it almost looked like she flinched when he leaned toward her, as if getting any closer to him was indeed an abhorrent thought.

Shesighed and put her hands demurely in her lap, letting those gorgeous orbs flit their gaze up to the man in question.Heleered at her like she were a piece of meat on the spit, roasting for his benefit. “I’mterribly sorry, sir, butImissed the question.I’vehad a lot on my mind lately.Couldyou repeat it?”

Thefucking peacock preened under her seductive lilt, grinning like a loon at the way she seemed to hang on his every word, butIcould see the practiced movements for what they were.Shewas skilled in the art of social subterfuge–and really, who wouldn’t be, in her position?Raisedin the cradle of riches and high society, with a father who was influential in politics and the judicial system, she’d have had all her life to hone her skills of surviving in such a male-dominated realm.Sheno doubt had many methods of self-preservation at her fingertips, poised and ready to use should she need an easy escape.

Mr.Rockwellcleared his throat and nodded in her direction, letting his eyes follow the subtle dip in her neckline as her father puffed on his cigar. “Iwas asking what you thought about your father gunning for re-election.”

Shewaved her hand in front of her face demurely. “Oh,Idon’t have an opinion on it either way.Isupport him, whatever he chooses.Youknow, like a dutiful daughter should.”

Thislast line was uttered with a sense of sarcasm that the younger man ignored, but the elderSinclairpicked up immediately.Hedidn’t say anything, butIcould easily pick up the subtle shift in his demeanor as he glared at his daughter behind that cloud of noxious smoke.

Ipuffed my cigar and leaned back, pretending to scroll my phone.

“Well, that’s a good mentality to have,Isuppose.Adaughter should support her father and, eventually, her husband in all endeavors.Thekey to a good and long-lasting partnership is support.That, and trust.”

Shenodded as the men returned to conversing around her as if she weren’t even there.Aforgotten trinket, something pretty to make them palatable to the feminine persuasion, that was all.Yetanother reasonIdetested politics.

I’dseen enough.

Witha groan,Istood and lifted my phone to my ear, pretending to take a call that had never come through. “Yes?”Ipaused asIwalked away from them, having seen enough.Idoubted they spared me a second glance or a passing thought, but one had to be careful when spying on another that you weren’t caught doing exactly that. “Ah, yes.Tellthem to reschedule my meeting for next week.I’mterribly busy this week, andI’dhate to have to cancel on one of the traveling clients.”

OnceIwas safely out of sight,Islipped my phone back in my pocket and rolled my eyes, heading directly for the valet at the front door.Iwanted out of here, and fast.

Theupper echelon of society was beginning to get on my ever-loving nerves.

CHAPTER SEVEN

KENZIE

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