Page 80 of Dirty Rival
“That’s too long,” she says, scoffing in disapproval. “And no better meal than Grayson’s mother’s lasagna to fix that problem. Ann might be gone, but she keeps our bellies full.” She glances at Grayson and then quickly changes the topic. “What can I get everyone to drink? We have about every choice you might wish for: wine, brandy, scotch. The list goes on.”
I glance at Grayson’s glass of wine. “I would say I’ll try what you’re having, but I’m afraid that in an effort to not take advantage of your hospitality, I don’t want to choose something outrageously expensive.”
He laughs. “I’m actually drinking an excellent hundred-dollar bottle of pinot I found while in Sonoma.” He fills my empty glass with the bottle sitting in the center of the table. “The most expensive wines are like all things in life, not always the best and I have a lot of money because I don’t throw away what I have.” He glances at Reid. “I believe we share this trait.”
“Indeed,” Reid agrees. “We do, and a few others we might not brag about quite as readily.”
“Are you an asshole too?” I ask Grayson.
Grayson laughs. “I can be, but I’m more selective about when and where than Reid.”
“Would you like a glass of pinot as well, Reid?” Leslie asks, still hovering to await his choice.
“Scotch on the rocks for me,” Reid replies. “The most expensive option you have. He owes me ten grand.”
Grayson eyes Leslie. “Bring him the bottle and we’ll call it even.”
I want to ask about the debt between them, but Leslie disappears inside, while Grayson refocuses on us, already leading us elsewhere, on Reid specifically. “I see she’s not afraid to call you on your shit, Reid.”
“She most certainly is not,” Reid replies, “but she made that statement loud and clear from the moment I met her.”
“How did that go?” Grayson asks, looking at me. “He fired your father. That was brutal. You must have hated him.”
“I was angry,” I agree, feeling honesty to be my best path with Grayson. “I actually hated Reid quite a lot.”
“And yet, here you are by his side,” he comments, watching me closely.
“She worked her anger out of her system,” Reid replies for me.
“And without regret,” I say, glancing in his direction. “You deserved what you got.”
“Is that right?” Reid challenges, his lips quirking, and that spark between us flares, impossible to hide, impossible to deny, and I’m certain Grayson will notice. Thankfully, Leslie reappears, and I hope breaks up the connection enough to downplay it to Grayson though I know Reid says it doesn’t matter. My gut says it might.
She sets a bottle of whiskey on the table as well as a glass of ice. Reid glances at the bottle. “That’s five thousand. You still owe me another five.”
I see another opening to ask about their debt, and when Leslie walks away, I intend to take it, but once again Grayson steals my thunder, and this time in a big way. He leans forward and speaks to Reid. “You’re fucking her. Is that why I’m supposed to believe in her?”
Chapter thirty-eight
Carrie
“Apparently you are a bigger asshole than Reid,” I say, reacting to Grayson’s crude question, which he hasn’t even bothered to direct at me, considering it’s about me. “He believes in me because—”
“She bested me right out of the gate,” Reid finishes for me. “She beat me when no one beats me.”
Grayson sits back and looks at me. “Now I’m intrigued. How did you best him?”
“Without blinking,” I say, not about to tell the story. “I beat him and walked away without blinking. He came to me afterward and you’re still an asshole.”
“How did you best him?” he presses.
Reid answers. “She bought me at a charity bachelor auction and then cuffed me to a couch in the hotel room and left me there. And, for the record, wholly unsatisfied.”
I’m stunned that Reid has told this story that most would feel make him look bad. Grayson narrows his eyes at me and I pick up my wine, taking a long swallow before saying, “It’s good. Really good. Dry and woodsy.”
“You did that?” he asks, ignoring my wine commentary.
“Yes. I did do that.”