Page 94 of Rhet

I love hors d'oeuvres. Especially the bite size bruschetta and the pastry wrapped brie.

As if he senses my hunger, Rhet takes one of the plates and places two pieces of the bruschetta on it for me. All the while talking to his father.

“Zeeta, you have to tell us, has my son been a good boss to you?” his mom asks, as she reaches for a piece of brie wrapped in pastry dough.

As I’m about to answer when Rhet jumps in. “I don’t give a shit if she thinks I’m one or not.”

“Thankfully, I made you a boy and I never called you Zeeta. This question is for Zeeta not Rhet.” She smiles cunningly.

It’s refreshing to see Rhet put in his place and not having clap back.

He frowns and pops a bruschetta bite in his mouth.

“Now, Zeeta, has my son been a good boss to you?”

I look at Rhet. His eyes meet mine. For the first time, I see how tired he looks.

“He has been a great boss, very interesting,” I answer, biting on the inside of my cheek.

“She’s a liar. People like them normally are.” Henry Banner laughs out.

Wait, what did he just say? People like them? I look at Rhet. He shakes his head.

“No, she’s not a liar, she’s smart. We know how horrid we made him.” His mother reaches across the table and pats my hand.

“It’s all about perspective,” Rhet continues, before eating another of the hors d'oeuvres.

“It’s hard being in the company of a Banner man. I always think about killing Henry at least seven times during the day.” His mom laughs.

I laugh, Henry looks at her without a smile. I stop laughing because I sense an undercurrent.

Rhet clears his throat. “Dad, I need to talk to you in my office for a sec.”

Henry stares at his wife in sadness. “Sure, let’s go.”

Rhet looks at me and flicks his head toward his mom. Why is he leaving me here with his mother?

She is gorgeous, her dark hair has streaks of gray in it, all held back in a classic chignon. Everything about her says money. Starting with the simple pale pink shirt with the gray cardigan tied over her shoulders.

She has on short white pants and cute sandals. She sounds cute, but her eyes say fearless. What the hell should I talk to her about?

“Are you coming to the Steel Union Gala?” she asks, well at least she knows how to start a conversation because I’m lost.

“Yes, I will be there. I’ll be working.”

Once it’s over, I will leave ASAP. I have no intentions of sticking around Rhet.

“My son likes you; you know?” she says as she reaches for some fruit.

Rhet likes me? He may like getting off on me, cause well, I have made myself available, but like me no.

I chuckle. “He tolerates me. Sometimes he may even pity me. I wouldn’t go as far as to say like.”

“Can you get me a cup of coffee, dear? No milk and sugar,” she asks as she bites into her grape.

I’m happy to do anything to get away from this very awkward conversation. I walk over to Rhet’s coffee station, placing a cup under the spout I swipe my choice and switch on the coffee machine. As the coffee gurgles, the machine releases a stream of hot coffee into the cup.

I place it in front of her. Hoping she forgets what she was talking about.

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