He nudges his father with his elbow though his lascivious gaze stays locked on Kayla. “Uh, I don’t—” David stammers uncertainly. He seems to understand this is entirely unprofessional and most definitely ill-advised considering the woman across from them. “Brent, maybe we should?—”
Kayla doesn’t give the older Jessup a chance to smooth over his son’s egregious fuckup and interrupts him to emphatically state, “Most women don’t need aman to tell them things that they already know. Especially about themselves.”
“Touché,” he scoffs, “I forget that you’re one of those high-maintenance, high-value, evolved women who don’t appreciate flattery.” With every sneered word, he watches her closely, hungry for her to have some sort of emotional outburst, probably hoping his cruelty will make her dissolve into tears.
Instead, Kayla’s jaw is rock hard, her chin firm, and her entire presence is that of a woman ready to straight up castrate this man. Her eyes have gone steely, and I don’t think any of us are breathing. Except for Brent, who seems to have no concept, or at least no care, to the monster he’s awoken. Surprisingly, I’m not talking about Riggs or me either. This beast is all Kayla, and she’s mad as hell.
“I provide my own maintenance, high or otherwise, so it is assuredly none of your concern. My value is non-negotiable, so your attempts to demean me ultimately only devalue your worth to me. Professionally.” She cuts her eyes to David, warning him to get his son under control.
“Brent—”
But the younger man brushes his father’s reprimand off, chuckling as he tells Kayla, “I don’t like you very much, but since I’m stuck with you now, I think we’re going to do some good business together. Sooner or later.” He reaches for Kayla’s hand, slowly and intentionally laying his over hers as he drawls out, “Preferably very soon.”
Riggs makes a growling noise low in his throat, his expression mirroring every bit of ‘what the fuck’ I’m feeling, but I kick his leg under the table in warning.Weneed to let Kayla handle this, I remind myself because I’m as close to punching this asshole as Riggs is.
David takes a desperate sip of his water.
Kayla pointedly removes her hand from the table. More importantly, from Brent’s reach. “My vagina has bled four days of the month since I was thirteen years old and yet, I survive. I think I’ll survive your not liking me, given I don’t like you either.”
David chokes on his water. I cover my laugh by clearing my throat.Holy fuck! Atta girl!
But Kayla’s not done. “And before you attempt to further hurt my feelings, you should know, I don’t have any. But you probably do, so consider it your fragile ego’s lucky day that I’m not interested in exchanging tit for tat insults with someone whose overinflated, insecure ego clearly exists in a perfect negative correlation to the size of his underinflated, unimpressive dick.” Damn, if that’s hernotinsulting him, I’d really love to hear her version of a verbal takedown.
Brent’s grin falters, but like he can’t help it, his arrogant smirk returns. “You know, I like a strong woman. It makes it that much sweeter when she submits to a man the way she should.” I swear to God, the asshole winks at Kayla. He. Winks. At. Her. My grip on my steak knife tightens dangerously. It’s not the sharpest I’ve ever seen… but it’s enough to do the job.
The implication that he expects Kayla to somehow bow down to him is laughably ridiculous. Admittedly, Kayla does surrender to me and Riggs, but it’s earned because we respect her and we just as readily get on our knees for her too. The power dynamic is constantly evolving, consensual, and never expected. That is not at all what Brent is describing. He seems to think thatbecause he has XY chromosomes, he’s inherently better than Kayla. He couldn’t be more wrong. He’s not even on her level, and it has nothing to do with his chromosomes and everything to do with his brain, skills, and ethics, or lack thereof.
Kayla, meanwhile, is in full dissection mode. “Men like you seek out women you can break because it’s the only way you can feel powerful. Do you know why that is?” She doesn’t wait for him to hazard a guess. “Because at your core, you’re weak. Strong men want strong women, and vice versa. The same is true of weakness.”
“Well, I’m strong enough to have negotiated this contract,” he brags. “You’ll come around eventually. They always do. One way or another.” He does one of those annoying good-old-boy laughs as he looks to his father for agreement.
“A contract is not a free pass to behave in bad faith,” Kayla replies evenly. “It can be revoked at any time.”
That gets Brent’s attention. “We all signed. It’s a done deal,” he declares.
That must be why he felt so emboldened to say these things. He thought some contract would let him get away with insulting Kayla. As if a piece of paper could protect him from her wrath.
“A contract with a behavior and morality clause on Jessup Enterprise’s side. One you are in breach of,” she clips out, cold as the year we did an outdoor game in Canada. She knew this might happen and prepared accordingly. Turning her focus to the older man, she says, “I warned you, and I was right. Your son has cost you this partnership.”
With that, she lays her napkin on the table and stands.
“Fucking bitch,” Brent spits out, garnering the attention of the tables closest to us. Though they seem to have been eavesdropping as much as we’ve been.
I’m halfway out of my seat when I realize Kayla is leaning on the table, both hands planted solidly on its surface as she gets right in Brent’s face. “Bitch? Is that all you have?” she asks with a light laugh. “At least be original. I’ve heard that since I was a kid.” She flashes him a villainous smile. “Maybe try something more shocking, likecunt.” Her expression shifts into faux pity. “Or is that too crude for you?”
She’s daring him to say it with every syllable, every look that crosses her face. He wants to. I can tell it’s right on the edge of his tongue, but he’s too chicken shit to say it.
“That’s what I thought,” Kayla declares, victoriously rising to her full height, towering over the table.
It’s not until her back is turned that he finally manages to hiss out, “You are a cunt.” It’s awkward from his mouth, like he’s never said that word a single time in his life.
I should let Kayla handle it. On some level, I know I should.
But Riggs is moving too, and fast. I intercept him, not to stop him, but to get there first. Not to protect Brent, because fuck that guy, but to protect my best friend.
Bam! My fist connects with Brent’s jaw with a sick crunching sound that has people gasping in horror.
“You think you can say that without consequences?” I roar at his stupidly shocked face. I laugh darkly, “No, you thought the consequences were gonna be her telling you off, right? Or maybe giving you one less percentage point in your deal? That’s not how this goes. You don’ttalk to people like that. Especially women.” I get right up in his face, closer than Kayla was for sure, where the scent of copper and scotch is strongest, and grit out, “Taste that blood in your mouth? Swallow it and know that I could make you spill more if I wanted to.”
