Fool Me Forever (The Confidence Game 2)

“Be quiet. I’m talking to Mal.”

Mal leaned toward him. “Please don’t argue.”

“Lenore, I distinctly remember you yelling at me about not paying enough attention to Mal, and I come in and find you’re encouraging her to get a tattoo.”

Halsey should sit quietly and watch this play out, study the interactions. Not drawing the spotlight was the most prudent, but it was the least attractive option. “The concept of marking the body as a form of self-expression is as old as humanity. Plus, removal methods are pretty good these days.”

Easton spoke to the center of the table, showing Halsey he was beneath the courtesy of eye contact. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“Stop,” said Lenny. “Stop trying to cause an argument, Easton.”

“Maybe your guest could leave, and we wouldn’t have one,” Easton said.

“You should apologize for that,” Lenny said, achingly calmly.

The animosity rippled across the table. It was on, and he wasn’t sorry. Easton Bradshaw’s relationship with his family was poisonous, and he couldn’t sit by and let Lenny and Mallory be abused.

“It’s time for you to leave,” Easton said.

Prudent would. Halsey was feeling decidedly reckless. “I think that’s for Lenny to decide, and we have business to do.”

“I decide for my family.”

“Oh, Easton. Stop being such a dick,” said Lenny. “We were having a nice time before you got here.”

“Hey, we got off on the wrong foot, East.” Halsey smiled. He’d nailed the passive-aggressive tone of that, and it would rile Easton up further to have his name shortened. He wasn’t trying to fix this; he wanted to blow it up.

“Who is this guy?” Easton said, affronted in a very satisfying way.

“I’m the accountant.”

“You’re the guy who advised my sister not to loan me money.”

“No. I made that call,” said Lenny. “I didn’t need help to make it.”

“You can leave, accountant.” Easton said the word “accountant” as someone else might say motherfucker.

Halsey rubbed his jaw as if considering and then said, “Well, East. You don’t get to dismiss me like I’m dependent on your approval.”

“Please, Easton, don’t,” said Mallory.

Easton leaned into the table to get closer to Halsey. “You want to play, accountant? We could take this outside.”

“Why would I want to fight you, East?”

“My name is Easton.”

Mess with a psychopath’s name, and you mess with his overinflated ego and his belief he was entitled to your admiration. Easton was working hard not to lose his temper. He’d been ready for Halsey to take the path of least resistance and avoid any unpleasantness. It’s how people responded to bullies. He wasn’t ready to defend himself against another male who knew the moves to make, and this was good practice for the final showdown with Cookie Jar. “Good to know.”

Easton rapped his knuckles on the table. “Len, in the kitchen.”

Lenny half rose before Halsey put an arm out to stop her. “Whatever you want to say about me can be said in front of everyone.”

Lenny would always be forced to find a side route, take the path of least resistance around Easton, make allowances for his moods and whims, while Mallory, craving his affection and approval, was whiplashed by his callous disregard.

“You don’t get an opinion in this house, accountant.” Easton’s restraint was gone. He’d been challenged in his own domain, and he needed to regain his supremacy.

“This is Lenny’s apartment, and you should respect that.”