"Of course not," Forrest said, offering his hand for a shake. "That's why they hold them. They know how to cater to people like us."
"Indeed they do," the senator agreed. He shook Forrest's hand and let his eyes rake up and down my body.
"Who is this lovely creature?" He directed the entire question to Forrest, as if I was an accessory.
"Let me introduce you to Sable Kohl," Forrest said, indifferent, as though I was the amusement of the hour. Maybe the night. "Sable, I'm sure you recognize the senator."
"I do," I said meekly. "It's nice to meet you, sir."
Fucking asshole that came to things like this. He was exactly the kind of person I loathed an opportunist who didn't care about anyone but himself. People like him made me sick.
I carefully kept all of that off my face. Blinking at him slowly like I was completely harmless. A body without much going on inside my head.
"Sable Kohl," the senator, repeated my name, letting it linger on his mouth as if he was entitled to it. "The widow of Wolfgang Taylor-Francis?"
"That's right," I said with a tight smile.
"What happened to him was a tragedy." The senator seemed genuinely regretful. As if the world was missing out on a gem of a person, not a monster.
I sighed, my grief feigned. Could I squeeze a fake tear out of one of my eyes?
"It was terrible. The poor man was asleep one minute and the next…" I sniffed. "He was gone."
The senator seemed to buy every word I was saying. "I'm sure you must be absolutely devastated. If you ever need anyone to make you feel better?—"
He smiled when Forrest cleared his throat. "Just making a pretty girl an offer." He patted Forrest on the arm and strode away.
Pretty girl,I thought, seething. Could he have been more condescending and gross? Probably. Chances were he was moredisgusting before he had breakfast every morning. People like him always were.
"Don't let him get to you," Forrest said softly. "He specializes in stirring up trouble. Quietly. He's a cockroach that lives under the furniture."
"Cockroach is right," I said darkly. "He seemed comfortable with you."
"I move in some…difficult circles," Forrest said carefully. "I have to maintain a certain outward appearance, otherwise they'll become suspicious. The minute they become suspicious, their guard is up. We need them with their guard down. Believe me, I don't like it any more than you do." He squeezed my hip.
"I suppose you don't," I said with a sigh. "I understand, though. I spent a couple of years pretending to be something I wasn't. It gets exhausting after a while." A short while.
"It does." He gestured a server over and took a couple of champagne flutes from his tray before handing one to me. "We might as well enjoy ourselves."
I wasn't sure I could, but I clinked my glass against his and took a sip. The champagne was divine, but more than a couple of sips would go straight to my head.
"Do you think Savannah is here somewhere?"
"It's possible," Forrest said. "Or she may be at the actual location. Leif's contact said they'd inform us when and where. This is a prelude to the actual event."
I wrinkled my nose, hating to hear him use a benign word like event. This was an auction, a means of trafficking people. We weren't here for a party. Not to have fun. Not to drink too much and laugh over bawdy jokes told by men who weren't funny. We weren't here to listen to other people laugh at their jokes because they didn't want to offend the speaker.
I'd heard those kind of jokes too many times before. Women were usually the butt of them. The laughter uncomfortableand often forced. Those who didn't laugh? Their silence spoke volumes.
Of course they wouldn't speak up. No, in these circles you played along or you were cut free. There was no in between.
"Is this where we split up and mingle?" I asked reluctantly. If I could, I'd stay right next to him all night, within touch, within hearing. That wasn't the plan though.
"Yes, we should," he agreed with an equal amount of reluctance. "There's a couple of people I should speak to. They'll be expecting me."
I smirked at him. "Wouldn't want to disappoint your fan club."
He cupped my cheek and leaned in. "They aren't fans of me, and I am not a fan of theirs. Someday soon, I'm going to see them rot in hell, but for now I have to play nice." He kissed my cheek.