"To old friends and new memories," she said as she clinked her glass against mine before sipping.
"So, tell me, Sloan, why have you summoned me here?" I asked and watched a surprised look briefly alight on her face before the calm mask reappeared.
"I told you, I just want to see you and catch up," she said, smiling as she rested her hand on my leg under the table. I could feel the blood surging and making my pants tight, and I fought to keep it under control. I knew that deviating from my plan of keeping everything on the up and up would spell trouble, but Sloan knew my weak spots.
"Sloan …" I said wanting to tell her to stop but unable to will myself to do it.
"What's wrong, Jack?" she asked as she leaned closer and moved her hand higher up my thigh. "I thought you liked this."
"Sloan, stop," I said mustering the will to move her hand away from where it was headed. My body wanted her, but the rest of me was still bruised by her callousness. "I didn't come here to be seduced."
"Didn't you?" she asked as she narrowed her eyes and slid back so that there was a space between us.
"Why do you always do this to me?" I said as I picked up my glass and sipped. She opened her mouth to answer as the server walked up to the table and set down another plate of appetizers.
"With regards from the Chef, Ms. Morgan," he said with a polite smile.
"Oh, do tell him thank you!" she replied with a wide smile and a wink. The server blushed and backed away from the table.
"Why do you always do that?" I asked.
"Do what?"
"Charm everyone," I said as I reached out and took one of the small triangles of toast that held some kind of foie gras topped with caviar. I bit into it and tasted the salty smoothness of the combination.
"I don't know, I can't help it," Sloan shrugged as she picked up the other piece of bread and ate half of it. I'd always liked the fact that Sloan wasn't shy about eating. She'd never held back or pretended to pick at salads when what she really wanted was a cheeseburger. Her lust for food carried over into other things, though, and it made me wary.
"Tell me what's really going on with you," I said as I stared intently into her ic
y-blue eyes. I knew she was hiding something. I just didn't know what. "Why are you really here?"
"Jack, look, I don't really want to get into that," she said I knew then that there was something she wasn't telling me. "It's not a big deal anyway, and besides, it's your father who died and left you in charge of the company."
"I'm your oldest friend, Sloan," I said quietly. "If you can't tell me, then who can you tell?"
"Why do you always have to pry?" she shot back as she slammed her glass onto the table spilling her drink on the pristine tablecloth.
"Sloan …" I said as I moved closer and slipped an arm around her shoulder. I could see that she was in pain, but I knew that it was going to be work to get the splinter that had caused it out from under the surface.
"No, I'm serious," she hissed pushing my arm away. "Let it go, Jackson."
"Sloan, talk to me," I said as I left my arm where it was. She bit her lip and looked down at the table, and when she looked back up at me, I could see that I'd hit a nerve.
"Jack, my own father fired me," she said. "He fired me from a job that I loved and was incredibly good at, and he replaced me with one of the frat brother douche-boys he plays golf with because the guy promised to bring in higher returns than anyone else."
"Oh man, Sloan, I'm sorry," I said holding her shoulder as I shook my head. "Your old man is as much of a bastard as mine."
"He fired me," she said as she picked up her glass and drank deeply. "I've done everything I possibly could to make that division run smoothly and bring in a handsome profit for him, and what does he do to thank me?"
"Fires you," I echoed as I watched one lone tear leak from her eye and run down her cheek. I reached out to wipe it away, but she ducked and shook her head.
"Don't," she said. "Don't pity me. I couldn't stand it if you did."
"I'd never pity you," I said as I slipped my fingers under her chin and lifted her face so that she was forced to look at me. "You're not the pitying type, Sloan. You're a survivor. You know it as well as I do. You always land on your feet, and this time will be no different."
"You think so?" she asked in a small voice. It startled me to hear Sloan sound so vulnerable, but then it occurred to me that I'd never actually seen her in a vulnerable position before. "You really think I'm going to come back from this? I mean, everyone is going to know that my own father fired me. How's that going to play in the big leagues?"
"So what if they know?" I said. "It'll just prove that your father is, in fact, the jerk they all think he is. And you'll prove that you're better than he is by the time you're done."