At the paper shamrocks hanging from the ceiling.
Like he belongs here.
Like he has some right to any of this.
“Knock it off,” he says with a strange laugh. “Nobody can hear you anyway. Besides, we both know what you really want.”
I freeze.
Because beneath the arrogance and the expensive suit, there's something wrong with him tonight.
Something unstable.
And suddenly I realize this isn't just an obnoxious man.
This is a dangerous one.
“Mr. Jonas, my boyfriend is on his way here. You need to leave.”
He turns and grins.
My stomach drops.
“And you really need those permits reinstated.”
“Stop talking and go.”
“All those delays, Red. Donors pulling out.”
“Leave.”
He takes another step.
I can smell alcohol on his breath now.
And something chemical underneath it.
“But I can bring it all back,” he snarls. “You just have to play ball.”
Then his hand shoots out.
His fingers wrap around my wrist.
Hard.
“Let go of me!”
His eyes glitter.
He enjoys this.
Enjoys having power over people.
Enjoys watching me struggle.
“Things can still change, Mary Donahue.”
“Excuse me? Let. Go.”