Page 5 of Antagonist

Harrison pushes me back with enough force that I nearly fall on my ass.

“I don’t know the rules of this thing, but I doubt what you’re suggesting is part of it.”

I chuckle. “Dammit, I was so close.”

Soft jazz music fills the room, and a moment later, a server comes in holding a tray of drinks.

“Good evening, gentlemen. Can I get you a glass of champagne?”

I take two, offering one to Harrison. He doesn’t refuse it, and it feels like a small victory.

“Thank you,” I say.

“Feel free to enjoy any of the snacks on the table over there,” the guy says, pointing to the corner of the room. “I’ll come back with more champagne later, but there are other drinks available at the small bar by the table. If you’ll excuse me.”

The guy leaves, and I look around the room for the first time.

“This is a sunroom,” I say, admiring the number of aluminum-framed glass windows forming at least half of the room’s walls.

“Why did you bid on me?” Harrison asks.

I tilt my head and purse my lips. He looks so adorably annoyed that I’m not sure I want to tell him the truth.

“Come on, sugar cakes, let’s have something to eat. Those sausage rolls look delicious. You like sausage…don’t you?”

He gapes, which only encourages my inner teenager.

“I hear you also like a bacon sandwich, but I’m afraid the sausage is all that’s on offer tonight.”

“You’re fucking deranged. You know that?”

I laugh.

“Why did you bid on me?” he asks again.

“To apologize for earlier. I was out of line,” I say honestly. All joking aside, he deserves my apology. If I’m lucky, he’ll accept it, and we can move on to the fun part of the evening.

“To apologize?” he asks, as if he doesn’t really trust me to tell the truth.

“Yeah, besides, the least I could do is make sure you didn’t end up with that lady with the red nails.”

“How do you know I wouldn’t be into her?”

I laugh. “If you can say that again without shuddering, I’ll believe you.”

He smiles back.

Another small victory.

Harrison follows me to the table. I take a sip of the champagne.

“Man, this is dangerously good,” I say, staring back at the half-empty glass. “Another few of these and I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

He places his glass on the table. “These sausage rolls do look delicious.”

I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying something that’ll take us back two steps.

“You don’t look so afraid now,” I say.