That's How it Happens

18. Operation: Up the Ante

Leo would've been six feet under if looks could kill. But since that wasn't an option, he sat across from Ainsley, eating his breakfast like last night hadn't happened. Like she hadn't hauled what felt like thirty fifty-pound bags inside in the dark. Like she hadn't slept on a couch that felt like it was stuffed with bricks while he sprawled across a king-size mattress that probably cost more than his first car.

How had the tables turned so fast – and why had they turned on her?

Since when did Victoria allow her daughters to shack up with their boyfriends?

Fake boyfriend, she reminded herself.

She stared at Leo's smug face and considered throwing her fork at it. But that would be too obvious. And she wasn't in the mood to explain herself to a room full of people who'd probably applaud.

Instead, she leaned her cheek into her palm and watched him, quietly daydreaming about all the ways she could bury her best friend.

Leo knew she was staring – knew she was probably plotting his demise – but he didn't mind. It meant he was under her skin. In her head. Right where he wanted to be.

Soon enough, she'd crack. She'd give him the truth: why she was suddenly acting like he'd committed a felony. He wasn't asking for much. He wasn't the old man at the airport who'd smile and nod through her moods. He wanted answers. And until he got them, he'd enjoy every second of driving her mad.

"You know, doll," he said, not bothering to look up, "if you keep looking at me like that, we may have to finish what we started last night."

Ainsley sat bolt upright. The room went quiet. Every fork paused mid-air. There was aduel happening now, and Leo knew she was armed – but she was a terrible shot. So he waited.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, voice tight.

Missed. He smirked.

"Should I give you a full explanation," he mused, spreading jam with surgical precision, "or just a rundown of what happens when you look at me like that?"

A snicker came from down the table. He ignored it. He was busy making his toast look like a work of art – because he knew it would drive her insane.

"You know what it does to me," he added, just to twist the knife.

"Nothing happened last night," she hissed through clenched teeth. Then, in a blur, she snatched the knife from his hand and sat back down like a woman possessed.

Leo took a bite of his toast, chewed slowly, and wiped his mouth.

"If something had happened," he said calmly, "there'd be nothing left to finish. You fell asleep, doll."

She glared at him and mouthed I'm going to kill you.

He mouthed back I love you, too.

Her eye twitched.

"Look how red she is," Liv giggled, clearly enjoying the show. "I don't know how she fell asleep on Leo. He's dreamy," she whispered, but it was pointless. Ainsley still heard it.

"Of course she's red," Aunt Kate chimed in, sipping her coffee. "She's a prude, like your mother. Aside from her eyes, it's the only thing she got from you, Vicky."

Victoria's lips pressed into a line so tight it could slice diamonds.

"Why are we discussing this at the breakfast table?" she snapped.

"Don't worry, mommy," Liv said breezily. "We can say anything at breakfast. The help isn't here."

Victoria looked aghast. "And who, pray tell, told you that?"