Page 82 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)
“Yeah. That one.”
“Funny.” I leaned back, my pose deceptively casual. “My friend was a producer on that film. It had a limited release in the UK. Only shown in a handful of cinemas—all of them in central London. I believe the one you went to was in north London, wasn’t it?”
Ivy and Scarlett’s heads swiveled back and forth like spectators at a sporting event.
I wasn’t going to let Clive get away with whatever shit he was trying to pull. Coming after me was one thing; dragging Scarlett into it was another.
“Then I remembered wrong,” he said coolly. “Maybe I watchedHouse of Snakessomewhere else. Either way, I’m glad I went to the cinema last weekend. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have run into Scarlett, and we wouldn’t be here.” He smiled and draped his arm over the back of Scarlett’s chair.
Ivy shifted with discomfort while I waited for Scarlett to tell him off. She wouldn’t let someone take such liberties this early into a first date.
“Exactly.” She leaned into him with an answering smile. “I’m glad I ran into you too.”
Clive’s teeth gleamed like little white targets for my fist.
What the actual fuck? She couldn’t possibly like?—
The bet.It hit me like a freight train. I’d forgotten about our wager, but it made sense why she was indulging Clive’s delusions.
Ivy and I weren’t on a real date, so I didn’t have to worry about scoring a second one; I could just say I had. Meanwhile, Scarlett was under the impression that she needed to work for hers.
At least, that was what I told myself because the alternative explanation was too nauseating to contemplate.
Since she didn’t know Ivy was a cover, I had to make an effort to “win” or she’d get suspicious.
“Did I mention that Ivy is studying environmental law at the University of London?” I said. “She’s brilliant.”
“You got a lawyer to go out with you? Impressive,” Scarlett said. It was lighthearted enough to pass as a joke but pointed enough for me to know it wasn’t.
I narrowed my eyes while Clive smirked.
“Law student,” Ivy corrected with a laugh. “I mean, it’s Asher Donovan. Whowouldn’twant to go out with him?”
Clive’s smirk disappeared.
A wisp of discomfort coasted through my stomach, but I washed it away with more wine.
Ivy was playing her part. I couldn’t fault her for that. Still, I wished she would’ve called me Asher instead ofAsher Donovan. I shouldn’t complain, considering how many doors the latter opened for me, but sometimes it felt a little dehumanizing, like I was a walking brand instead of a person.
Scarlett’s brow creased with a small frown. She slid a glance at me, her gaze oddly questioning, before she turned back to Ivy. “So, environmental law. Do you have a specialty?” she asked.
Ivy lit up for the first time since she saw Clive. “Marine protection, but I’m interested in the management of hazardous substances and wastes too.”
For the next half hour, she regaled us with details about her courses while we ate our appetizers—Scarlett silent, Clive scowling, and me interjecting with the occasionalmmmandwow.
I was all for saving the environment, but truthfully, listening to the intricacies of the UN’s High Seas Treaty while we ate gourmet crab cakes wasn’t my idea of a good time.
Ivy seemed oblivious to the growing tension. Thankfully, the server brought out our main courses and interrupted her before she could go into more detail about exploited fish stocks.
“This lobster is delicious.” Scarlett speared a piece with her fork and held it out to Clive. “Here, try.”
“Thanks, babe.” Clive shot me a smug look and ate the lobster tail straight off her fork.
Scarlett and I reacted with simultaneous grimaces, but when I focused on her, her face had already smoothed into a smile.
“Tell us about rugby,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to learn more about it.”
She cast the bait, and he fell for it hook, line, and sinker. If there was one thing men loved, it was talking about themselves.