Page 21 of Positively Pricked
So, what was this, anyway?
The silence stretched out between us, crackling as our gazes locked and held.
I couldn’t read his expression, and maybe that was a good thing. For some reason, I thought of him with Tiffany – a.k.a. the future Mrs. State Senator.
They'd been caught in the coat room with her dress hiked high, and his hands heading for ground zero. I hadn't seen their encounter, but I'd heard plenty from my fellow catering assistants as well as from all those party guests who didn't mind gossiping in front of the help.
The help.
That was me.
And Zane was… well, trouble, that's what.
I mumbled, "I've gotta go." And yet, I made no move.
He said, "I've got a question."
"What?"
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"Tell anyone what?"
He flicked his head toward his estate. "What you heard."
Obviously, he meant the ugliness I'd overheard from inside the van. No doubt, it would've made for a good story, and yet, I hadn't told a soul.
But that was no big mystery. I said, "I don't gossip."
"Why not?"
I stared at him. What kind of question was that? It was like asking why I didn't eat soup with a fork. I wasn't an idiot. No, I used a spoon for the same reason I resisted the urge to blab about things I'd overheard by mistake.
Who needs a mess, right?
When I made no response, he frowned. "And why'd you walk out alone?"
I glanced around. "You mean out here? To my car?"
He gave my car a dismissive glance. "If that's what you're calling that thing."
Well, that was charming.
I gave him an annoyed look. "Oh, so now you're insulting me?"
It shouldn't have been a surprise. He insulted everyone – or so I'd heard.
"I wasn't insultingyou," he said. "I was insulting your car." He spared it another glance before saying, "Don't tell me youlikethat thing."
I felt my jaw clench. "Hey, that 'thing' got me here just fine, so maybe you should show it some respect."
Why on Earth was I sticking up for my car?I absolutely hated it, probably even more than he did, becauseIwas the one stuck driving it. The car wasn't just ugly. It was practically useless. The heat was iffy, the upholstery was ripped, and its gas mileage seriously sucked.
Still, the car wasn'thisto insult.
And why was I still here?
His frown deepened. "You make a habit of this?"
