Page 3 of Power Twist

T blanches, his fingers flying to his ear and pulling the two-way communication device out a fraction.

“It seems Benson is adamant I don't answer your question,” he says while readjusting the earpiece. “Not that I could, since I don't see her or Whit here.”

Damn. That was the whole point of coming to this stupid thing tonight, plus the small fact that my presence was required. Actually, demanded and threatened is more like it. Kyle wasn't as accepting of my no RSVP last month as I hoped. I tried to explain that no one would care if I was there or not, but that didn't matter.

Speak of the devil….An overpowering wave of his expensive cologne closes my throat as Kyle appears at my side.

“Not having fun, Walmart?” Tipping forward, he frowns at T. “We have things to discuss. Leave.”

T's dark brown eyes meet mine before he dips his head and disappears into the shadows once again. Apprehension coils in my gut. Yes, we're in a room full of people, but being this close to Kyle still triggers every warning bell.

“Great party,” I deadpan. “None of your asshole friends will talk to me—not that I'm complaining. But I would like to say, for the record, 'I told you so.'”

“Oh, Walmart, they're afraid they'll catch something that will require antibiotics.” The corners of his eyes crinkle with the widening of his arrogant smile. “Or catch too deep of a whiff.” To make his point, he leans forward to take an exaggerated sniff. “Nearly two years away from that shithole I pulled you out of and you still reek of trailer trash. How is that even possible?” Moving out of my personal space, he runs a slow gaze down my body. “At least you look the part.”

“Fuck you, Kyle.”

His ice blue eyes roll to the ceiling. “Everything except that mouth of yours. Now, as lovely as this is, I came over here for a reason.”

“Then spit it out and leave me alone so I can people watch in peace.”

“Tomorrow morning, eight o’clock, I need you in the Oval Office.”

I bat my eyelashes. “Say please.”

“You're an idiot.”

I don't hold back my snicker. “I already have a meeting tomorrow morning. Call my secretary and she'll pencil you in sometime next year.”

“Eight o’clock,” he says, emphasizing each word. “I promise you won't want to miss it. There’s an item or two on the agenda that I'm sure you'll be interested in learning about.”

I tilt my head, my eyes searching his. “What are you playing at, Kyle? What's going on?” Dread sinks in my gut like lead. Kyle is not a nice man; no way in hell would he give me a heads-up unless there's an underlying agenda.

“Guess you'll have to show up to find out.” His name being called draws his blue eyes away to scan the crowd. “See you tomorrow, Walmart. And hey, make sure you wear something sexy. First impressions and all.”

Red-hot anger flashes through my veins, heating my skin. I take a heavy step in the direction he disappeared through the crowd only to be held back. I turn my attention to the football-size hand around my wrist and trail up the black sleeve to T's determined stare.

“Leave it,” he mutters. “Nothing good would come from the VP kicking the president’s ass in the middle of their first party.”

“And last party. This one is boring as hell. They don't even have Jack Daniel’s at the bar. Who does that?” I sigh and take a sip of the now-warm champagne. I don't care how much they say this stuff cost, it's awful—yet every woman here is downing it glass after glass. At least they're now at the point of intoxication where I no longer exist for them to glare at. “And side note, no way could I take Kyle. See these arms?” I hold up a bicep for T to inspect. “These muscles are only used for two things, lifting food to my mouth and carrying my laptop bag.” I scan the crowd for Kyle and hoping for Shawn to appear too. “I'd love to learn though.”

“What's that?” T presses two fingers to his ear. “No, I'm not saying that, you idiot. It's inappropriate.”

“What did Trouble say to get him into, well, trouble?” I smile as I search the shadows for Trey.

“He can tell you later, even though he shouldn't. What were you saying you wanted to learn?”

I reach for a passing waiter’s tray, gently setting my half-full champagne flute on top. “To fight, or at least defend myself. Maybe just the basics in case something happens when you guys aren't around. What time is it?”

“Ten, ma'am.”

I shoot him a side-eyed glare. He knows how much I hate the ‘ma'am’ shit. Makes me feel older than I already am. Four years from forty, I don't need any more help feeling old.

“Great,” I say as I gather the silky pink material of my dress and tug it up an inch. “Let's go to my new home. Where's the nearest exit?”

A sense of security washes over me, calming my jittery nerves the moment his hand presses against my lower back. There's no heat, no desire like there is with Trey; T's strong yet gentle touch is nothing more than protective and platonic. The fact that I'm not pulling away right now is crazy considering I've gone my whole life not being able to stand anyone touching me. It says something about T, about Trey. Maybe that I want their protection, want the sense of belonging their strong hands provide.

Eh, I’ll think about that later.

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