She wasn't much of a judge of hard liquor. She'd been to the odd party. Those had been full of beer and jello shots, mixed drinks. Nothing like this. Her eyes teared slightly as she swallowed. She put the bottle down and leaned against the counter, gulping air.
She heard Lex chuckle beside her. "You okay there?"
"Shut up." She straightened and turned to him, holding the bottle up again. "I don't get it."
"Yes. You've made that clear."
"Why does my birthday warrant expensive liquor when I..." She inhaled suddenly. "Hate you," she breathed. She could feel it now. A sort of warmth that spread from her stomach to her throat. "Wow."
"Nice, isn't it?"
She looked up. He was smirking again. "Maybe the liquor. I can't say the same for the company."
He nodded. "Ah, but what other option do you have?" He moved closer and she leaned away. He was only reaching above her, though. She watched, dumbfounded, as he took another glass from the cabinet, gathering his with it. "For the record, I'm not too fond of you. But how do you want to remember this birthday, Chloe?" He took the bottle from her hands. "The night you sat alone in your cramped, little place or..." He moved to the table and placed the bottle and glasses down. "The night you shared a bottle of rare scotch whiskey with your worst enemy?" He turned back to her, a half-smile on his lips. "It's at least a talking point."
"So wait..." She scoffed. "You seriously think that I'd swill scotch with you just because it's better than being alone?"
He removed his coat. "So you're admitting it's better?"
"I didn't say that. I said..." But she had. Was it better? She stared at him as he leaned against the table, silent. She'd had her birthday drink, technically. She could easily kick him out now. Curl up with a book and... God, was she really that pathetic? Her choices of companionship boiled down to book or bald evil man. She straightened her shoulders and moved to the table, sitting down slowly.
He took the seat opposite her, that ever-present smirk there. "I thought you might..."
She slapped a hand on the table. "Just shut up and pour, Luthor."
**************************
Lex pushed the glass across the table toward her. "Sip slowly this time. Something like this should be appreciated."
"Why? Because it's expensive? Isn't ten thousand to you just a twenty to me?"
"Because it's rare," he corrected.
She smiled rather smugly. "I bet you paid more than it's worth."
"I didn't pay anything for it." He sipped, letting the scotch just trickle down his throat. "It was a gift from an investor."
She sipped her own. "Investor or a co-conspirator on one of your little..."
"A Luthorcorp investor." He leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "And you still refuse to believe I've changed. Why is that?"
She shrugged and sipped again. "Personal experience. There is not one thing you do that doesn't have a nefarious little scheme behind it." She leaned forward. "Take tonight. Let's just say that I have nothing better to do than sit here with you." She glanced down. "I'm not saying that's true, but suppose it is."
He found himself smiling. "Because it is."
Her eyes snapped up to his. "What's the draw for you?"
He gulped down the rest of his drink. It was better than answering. To be honest, he wasn't sure what the draw was. He'd hardly looked at his PDA until after nine. He'd been about to open this same bottle when he'd seen it on the side table. That was when he saw the flashing message. "Don't forget Chloe's birthday. Love, Lana." He remembered the day she'd done that, screwing around with his things. It was before the wedding and that time was as close to a honeymoon as they got. Her putting little touches everywhere. He'd been giddy with it at the time, even as annoying as it was. It felt so nearly like she'd truly loved him.
I can't believe you don't have any birthday reminders in here. Not even for your father. Do you even know the date?
I have assistants to remember these things.
Well, I'm putting Chloe's in.
She's your friend, not mine.
What's mine is yours, she'd said, smiling. So she's our friend.
Of course, she hadn't been. All through his relationship with Lana, every time he'd seen her, she'd had a suspicious eye on him. And any happiness with Lana had disappeared after the wedding. He'd known it had to do with Clark. Everything did. She'd never loved him, not really.
When that message had flashed, he'd found himself thinking of Chloe. A Kent had swooped in on her, too. Or maybe that was Lana. It was no secret that Chloe would drop anything for Clark Kent, even her child of a boyfriend. If there was anyone who was as pathetic as he tonight, it was her.
She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Hello? Are you going to answer me?"
He put his glass down. "I'm sorry. I must have forgotten the question," he lied.
She rolled her eyes, then downed the rest of her glass. "Don't give me that. We aren't that deep in the bottle." She shuddered slightly and picked up said bottle and poured another for herself, then him. "What exactly would make you decide to drop everything and come over here?"
"Everything? You mean rambling around empty rooms, playing pool with myself, late supper for one? That kind of everything?"
She sighed. "So you're playing the lonely billionaire card? Am I supposed to buy that? Should I feel sorry for you?"
He picked up his glass. "Of course not. You have no room to feel sorry for anyone."
She stiffened slightly. "Meaning?"
He took a slow sip. He was glad he'd been able to turn things back to her, but he still liked making her wait for it. Chloe craved answers the way he craved power. "You just plod on through life, don't you?" He smiled. "You work hard, stay loyal and you think it's all going to pay off eventually. But what do you have?" He tilted his head to the side, studying her tight expression. "You have a job where you just can't get ahead." He tried not to smile at that. He did, after all, play a role there. Not that she knew it... yet. "A failed relationship," he went on. "The man you want constantly out of your grasp."
"Jimmy and I broke up by mutual..."
"I wasn't talking about Jimmy."
She flushed. He didn't miss it, even as she tried to cover by picking up her glass and swallowing its contents in one gulp. He should probably warn her to slow down. But he didn't want to lose track of where they were going. Her misery was nearly palpable. Yes. Join me, he thought.
"Clark and I are friends," she said, her jaw tight.
"And that's all you want?" He laughed slightly and shook his head. "You can't fool me, Sullivan. Clark may be as sharp as a bowling ball, but..."
"Isn't it funny that you brought it back to Clark," she said, slamming her glass down and pushing it away. "Because that's obviously why you're here. You're convinced I'm holding some secret of his and you think getting me drunk will..."
"Oh, I know you're holding some secret of his, but that's not the point of this night."
"Then what is the point?" She yelled the last, standing up, planting her hands wide on the table, nearly leaning over him. He was momentarily side-tracked by the view down her blouse. He'd give her one thing-- she could certainly fill out a blouse.
"The point," he said, happy to stay calm when she was so... not, "is that misery loves company."
She drew back. "I'm not miserable."
"Really?" He loosened his tie slightly, getting comfortable. He was never more comfortable than when everyone else was perturbed. "So your life is exactly where you want it to be?" He shook his head again. "At least I can say I'm where I am because I fucked up. But you... very sad."
"No sadder than you," she shot back. She shook herself and sat back down. "Does it ever bother you that absolutely no one wants to be around you? The only company your misery could find is someone who detests you and everything you touch."
"Oh? And where are all of your friends? Obviously not ringing in the birthday with you..."
"If I called them, they'd be here." She lifted her chin. "Do you have anyone in your life you could say that for?" She smiled. "And let's not count the help."
He clenched his teeth. "Bitch."
She smiled wider. "Oh, was that low? I'm sorry. My head must have been turned by all those lovely things you said to me." She raised an eyebrow. "What? You can dish it out, but you can't take it? Color me astonished."
Previous Part
Part Four
No comments:
Post a Comment