“You want information from me?” I pushed my glasses up. “I call bullshit.”
“We aren’t playing Bullshit, Ms. Forter. We’ll be answering each other’s questions. Honestly.” He poured two shots.
“I’ve already had two doubles. Take four to catch up.” If he wanted to play this game, so be it. I was a pro at ferreting out information. I would just have to be careful how I answered his questions. This really was a reporter’s dream deal. I was not too many years off my college days, and he was many from his. I was sure I could drink him under the table any day. I may be small, but I had been a freaking fish in college.
He chuckled again, making me blink a little. It was…odd. “I really don’t believe you have a clue who I am, Ms. Forter.” He downed one shot. No wince. “But, I’ll do as you demand.” He took the other glass and downed the vodka. “This time.” He refilled the glasses, and easily took the third and fourth shots.
I tried not to stare. He did not even cough. Shit.
He started to refill the glasses, but I stopped him from pouring mine. “Wait.” I grabbed a napkin and started cleaning off the rim of my glass. Old man lips had touched it. I scrubbed it spotless, and sat it back on the table. “There. Filler up.”
He blinked at where I held the napkin in my hand.
Did I offend him? Poor baby.
“Do you have a problem with germs?” he asked, seeming honestly confused.
Like he was God’s gift to women. Idiot.
I tossed the napkin on the table. “You haven’t taken two shots. I don’t have to answer.”
He glared and filled my shot glass. “Then let’s begin.”
I lifted mine for a toast.
He bypassed it, draining his.
Seriously an ass. I bristled, but still toasted against a ghost glass, and took the shot.
Well…it was chilled. And it went down. That was about all that I could say in the vodka’s favor. It might as well have been fuel for a space ship.
Oh. My. Shitface.
As I coughed, and my eyes watered, he took my glass from me and refilled it. How very kind of him. Especially, because the fucker was chuckling again. I grabbed a new napkin and dabbed at my eyes under my glasses. This was going to be hell.
Coughing from my second shot, I sat my own glass down as he gently placed his on the table, and I asked in disbelief, “And you called my whiskey shit?”
His lips twitched. “Yes. And you just wasted a question, Ms. Forter.”
“No!” I pointed at him, which he quickly swatted away with irritation. “I realize English isn’t your first language, but that was rhetorical.”
“Not with the infliction you used. It was a question.”
I ground my teeth together. Literal old asshole.
“Fine.” Dammit, if he wasn’t right. I motioned for him to ask away.
He watched me carefully. “Other than the charity event articles, what story are you literally working on?”
I glanced away. I tapped my finger on the table, thinking, and then tried not to grin, stating slowly, “The only story I’m literally working on is the charity event. That’s all my editor has assigned.” Take that, literal old asshole.
His teeth clenched, but he started pouring.
After two more shots for each of us, I made sure to keep my mouth shut, other than when I had to cough. I was not going to waste my question this time.
He asked immediately, “Other than the charity event articles, what story would you hope to gain at this event?”
I sighed. I had known he would ask it again, but better stated. I only had one answer. The truth. “To catch Ember Lerrus stepping out on Brent Terrance and Cole Donovan.”
Instantly. “Why?” His eyes were hard on mine.
I turned toward him and shook my head, before resting it back on the booth. “Nope. Only one question.” I felt a little loose, but nowhere near tipsy. This was a good thing because he did not seem to be having any issues. “Now my question. Have Ember and Grigori ever been lovers?” The million-dollar question. “And we already established this is off the record.” I just wanted the truth at this point. That would help me understand if my gut feeling was wrong.
He started twirling his glass on the table. “What do you believe constitutes as lovers?”
I rolled my eyes. “Have they had sex?”
He twirled the glass again before thumping it down and starting to pour. “I can honestly say I’ve never seen them have sex.”
I snorted. Christ. This was going to take a shitload more shots.
Ten more shots later, I was beginning to feel it. We were drinking them quickly, so the alcohol had not had time to fully hit, but I could tell he was even beginning to feel its effects.
He slammed his glass down, and went nose to nose with me, slurring, “Why do you care if they’ve had sex?”
I grinned. “I don’t honestly care if they’ve had sex.” Really, I did not. I just wanted to know if they had so I would know if I was following the right lead. I stated happily into his furious face, “My turn. Have you ever seen Ember kissing anyone besides Brent and Cole?”
Instant. “Have you seen her kissing Brent and Cole?”
I grinned. “Can’t answer that. Save it for your next question. Now answer, old man.”
He growled.
I laughed a little. He was kind of funny.
He sounded a bit pissed. “Yes. I’ve seen her kiss someone besides Brent or Cole before their miraculous return.”
“Who?”
He shook his head, and started pouring.
Two shots later, I asked, “Who did you see her kiss besides Brent or Cole?”
“Her daughters.”
I glared.
Once more, he put his face in front of mine. “Answer the question I asked right before.”
“No. I haven’t seen her kiss them.” My eyebrows came together as my fogged mind contemplated a new theory. “Why do you care if she’s kissing anyone?” I gasped as the concept really manufactured in my thoughts. “Do you have a thing for Ember?”
He laughed outright, rocking on the booth.
I squinted, realizing what I was seeing.
He was really fucking handsome. Like really, really handsome.
Why had I never noticed that before?
Wait. I peered closer. Perhaps it was beer goggle vision.
Fuck...I couldn’t tell.
I rubbed my forehead. “Answer my question.” My words were hard to get out.
Daniil shook his head, tilting to the side. He almost fell out of the booth. I barely managed to grab his arm and yank him upright. He did not seem to notice, and went to pour, but froze. “Shit.”