Page 100 of Dating Goals
I swear I see Elodie’s eye twitch at that last word.
“Business,” Elodie replies curtly.
The barman returns with the Negroni. As Elodie reaches for her drink, I notice something on her wrist. The edge of a tattoo peeking out from under her bracelet. A small, dark symbol that looks like a stylized spider or maybe a star.
“And what kind of business is that?” Anika asks sweetly. Something’s different about her tonight. Her face is still as adorable as ever, freckles dancing across her nose and cheeks as those big, beautiful eyes seem so innocent. But there’s nothing innocent about the way she’s questioning Elodie. She’s calculated. Crafty.
It’s hot.
But as effective as Anika’s bold confidence may be, Elodie’s training with the secret service gives her an edge. Without missing a beat, she answers with a straight face.
“Finance.” Then, lifting her glass, says, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Anika. But I’m afraid I need to steal Griffin back to the poker game. The table is waiting, darling.”
A gentle warning.
“I’m sure the…table can wait a little longer,” I say, voice clipped.
“Go on,” Anika says, waving her hand dismissively. “Don’t let me keep you from your…business.” She feigns a smile at Elodie as she says the last word. “I’ll be right here, chatting with my new friend.”
“I would like nothing more,” Elodie says, tilting her head as if she’s trying to figure Anika out.
I look between them, suddenly feeling like I’ve wandered into a minefield without a map. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and I have the distinct impression that whatever game these two women are playing is a lot cattier than that poker game across the room.
“Griffin,” Showalter barks in my ear. “The hand is starting. Get back to the table now.”
I’m so tempted to rip the earpiece out and throw it in Elodie’s Negroni, consequences be damned. Let Malcolm keep his millions. Let the FIS find another patsy. To tell Elodie to back off, to make it crystal clear to Anika that there’s nothing between us. But something in Anika’s expression stops me. A subtle warning, perhaps.
“Go play your game, Griffin,” Anika says. “They’re waiting for you.”
“Fine,” I mutter, extricating myself from Elodie’s grip. “I’ll be back,” I tell Anika, trying to convey with my eyes all the things I can’t say aloud.
I step back, feeling like I’m physically tearing myself away from her.
“Take your time,” she replies, raising her glass in a mock toast. “Don’t worry about us…girl talk,ja?”
As I walk back to the game, I just catch Anika saying, “Sooo, I’d love to hear more about your travels. You must have so many interesting stories.”
I take my seat at the table, my mind racing. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Anika leaning casually against the bar, chatting like she’s just met her new BFF. But I know something’s up with those two beautiful, dangerous women. Each with their own agenda. I just need to figure out what Anika’s is.
21
ANIKA
Iswirl the dregs of my champagne, replaying tonight’s casino drama. Griffin started the poker tournament looking like a runway model in his tuxedo. I mean, he was smoking hot.
Don’t judge. I have a weakness for men in finely tailored suits.
But by the end of it, he’d cycled through ten shades of green. Sigh. He still looked good though.
“You seem distracted,” Wilde says, cutting into my thoughts.
We’re tucked away in a corner of the hotel restaurant open for wealthy patrons even though it’s the middle of the night. Money talks, so I’ve learned.
“I’m thinking about the game,” I admit, stabbing at my untouched chocolate mousse. “Griffin kept touching his ear whenever he was bluffing. And when Malcolm went all-in with those kings, Griffin looked like he was going to throw up.”
“Yet he’s still in the game,” Wilde observes, sipping his sparkling water with lime.
Barely.
