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“The email…” She shook her head, but I’d seen the flash of guilt. “What email? And how did you know Marci and I were friends?”
Dropping the still-folded piece of paper onto the table between us, I tapped it with my index finger. “Are you going to make me drag this out of you one word at a time, Simone?” I paused and leaned forward. “You know better than most how persistent I can be when going for a goal. If you push me, I won’t settle for just getting the truth from you. I’ll make you regret that you ever knew me.”
Blood drained out of her face. As she grabbed her glass of wine, her fingers shook. “You’re threatening me? For fuck’s sake, Maximus. Marci’s bosses have been kicking her ass about needing better meat for her articles. I helped her out. It’s not like you give a damn what anybody says about you.”
“So, you lied to her about the woman I’ve been seeing and me? Is that your story?”
Something in my voice must have worried her. She swallowed, her throat working with the action. Unsteadily, she said, “It was just supposed to be a joke. We did not know it would take off as it did. But nobody’s hurt by it. It’s gossip. Whoever pays attention to that, anyway?”
Leaning forward, I said, “You wanted my attention, Simone. Now you have it, and I want an answer. Yes or no—are you behind the Black Star story about my friend and me?”
“Yes.” Simone hissed. “But so what? You don’t go to The Black Star without knowing what can happen. If your girlfriend’s having regrets now, then it’s too fucking bad. She has to deal with the consequences, just like any other adult who makes bad decisions.”
She drained her wine, but instead of putting the glass down, she grabbed the bottle and topped it off. Dropping the bottle into the ice bucket with a carelessness that had the ice rattling, she saluted me with her refilled wine.
“Live and learn, Maximus. That’s what my dad always said when I did something stupid. You can pass the advice onto your butch girlfriend.” She sneered, her lip curling as she shook her head. “What on Earth are you seeing in her, anyway? Her muscles are nearly as big as yours!”
Hardly. Amused at the pettiness even as Simone’s words annoyed me for Tina, I said, “I’m just not intimidated by a strong independent woman, Simone. You would never figure that out.”
She stiffened at the insult.
“You bastard…wait. Who the fuck are you, and why are you smiling?” She jerked her head up to glare at the new arrival; her eyes narrowed to slits.
Gianni grabbed a chair from a nearby empty four-top and swung it around so she could sit next to me. She made a big show of presenting me with her phone, which already had an app open. “Just press play, brother dear.”
“Brother…Maximus, what’s going on?” Simone demanded.
A second later, Simone’s voice spilled out of the phone, clear as a bell.
I turned the screen toward her so she could watch the recording my sister had made of her confession.
A slow flush crept across her cheekbones. She opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut with an audible click. Finally, she jerked her eyes from the phone screen to glare at me. “What the utter fuck, Maximus?”
“Are you confused?” Gianni leaned in with a falsely solicitous smile on her face. Plucking the phone from my hand, she started the video over—and turned the sound to max before sliding it across the surface to Simone with her index finger. “Watch it again. Maybe it’ll help.”
Simone grabbed the phone and went to throw it.
Gianni was quicker and snapped the phone out of Simone’s hand. “Easy there. If you break it, I’m having the cops haul your miserable ass in for destruction of property, no matter how much Jamie thinks we should give you the benefit of the doubt.”
My sister gave me a quizzical look. “Are we done?”
“I believe so,” I said, my gaze drifting back to Simone’s. “But that’s really up to Simone. Simone, you’ll write to Marci, retracting every word, admit to her you made it all up. You will—”
“Like hell I will,” Simone interrupted, scorn in her voice.
“If you don’t,” I said, cutting Gianni off before she could insert her own two cents. “I’m taking this video to my lawyers in the morning. I have grounds to sue for defamation. And Simone, I will sue. Word will get out to your other clients. Your employer will drop you like a rotten egg.”
Simone worked as a paid escort. But it was really a well-run whorehouse. They took good care of their sex workers, which kept the business out of trouble.
But a sex worker who leaked information and pictures about her clients to the press was a worker who’d soon find herself unemployed. And Simone knew it.
“Why?” she whispered, her voice low and tight.
“That’s irrelevant,” I said, sidestepping the issue. I tossed back the rest of the bourbon I’d ordered before rising. “Finish your meal if you like, but show your face at my hotel again, and I’ll have you arrested for trespassing. Oh…and Simone?”
She looked up, her eyes dull.
“If you cause Tina Siegler or her family any more trouble, I’ll ruin you.”