Excerpt from "Storms in a Shot Glass" by Nolwynn Ardennes

“Here’s what I suggest,” he said. “From now on, you’ll make sure every attempt he makes to contact my mother ends in failure.”

She pressed her back into the seat of the booth and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “And pray tell how I will achieve that?”

He threw his hands up. “How do I know? Any way you care to, just do it.”

Silence grew between them. Jane’s gaze locked with his and their eyes settled in a clash of wills. Somewhere along the way, he saw her blink, but he didn’t drop his gaze until she finally closed her eyes for a second.

Bringing her hands to her temples, she stared straight at him. “In other words, you’re telling me to sabotage Umberto’s every attempt to contact your mother.”

“That’s right.”

“And if he sidesteps me?”

Michael chuckled. “You really think he can afford to do that?”

Jane gave a small, contrived smile. “I guess you’re right.” She paused, letting the hum and drone of the conversation in the room surround them.

“What if I don’t agree to this?” she said.

He winced inwardly. That’s what he hoped it wouldn’t come to. He didn’t want to employ hostile tactics but it was his mother they were talking about.

He picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip, his eyes never leaving her. Putting the cup back in its saucer, he crossed his arms in front of him on the table.

“Jane,” he said, “I’m sure you know half the business Vista Standard Bank handles comes straight from my clients.” He paused for effect. “As their lawyer, it wouldn’t be hard for me to tell them to take their accounts elsewhere.”

Jane paled and her lips tightened in a nervous gesture. But she didn’t flinch or gasp, and for that he gave her credit. This girl had balls.

“That’s blackmail,” she said softly.

“I don’t want it to come to that, but I will if I have to. Think about it, Jane. Deflect a few calls, invent a few excuses. It doesn’t take more than that.”

She stared at him for a long time, her narrowed gaze travelling over him before coming back to rest on his face. He wondered what was going on in her head, but like any good legal negotiator knew, you should never betray what was going on in your head. So he simply allowed her to peruse him while he settled back and took small sips of his coffee.

As the seconds ticked by, he saw perusal turn to disbelief and finally to something remarkably like spite on her features. Her lips pursed to a tight line, stretching the skin over her cheekbones and making her bone structure appear formidable as the soft shadows in their secluded corner played upon her face.

Michael didn’t flinch, not even when she opened her mouth and said calmly,

“You’re a bloody arse, you know that?”

He acknowledged her comment with a small smile. He had her where he wanted, he knew it. She wouldn’t have been so vehement if she hadn’t thought herself cornered.

“Excuse me, my dears,” Tabitha’s sing-song voice broke through.

They both glanced at the woman who stood close to their table. How long had she been there listening to them? Michael knew this was the least of their concerns right now though. It wasn’t the first time he was called an arse. He’d been called worse, actually. Putting on a proper appearance to greet Tabitha, he watched as Jane sat up straighter and pasted a smile on her face.

The older woman came to a standstill at his side, her hand settling lightly on his shoulder. Facing Jane, she said, “Have you managed to eat anything, dear? Michael told me about your condition.”

He caught the almost imperceptible second when Jane winced and bit her lip before smiling even wider at Tabitha. She was flustered, that was obvious. Why? Wasn’t she used to being in social circles?

“The food was lovely,” she said, the sound of her voice that of a proper debutante addressing her hosts for lunch at the country club. Did she have such background? He found himself wondering.

“Thank you for the consideration,” Jane added.

“It’s a pleasure, dear. Michael was very worried, if I may add.” Tabitha let the sentence hang, and Michael knew it was a ploy to extract a juicy tidbit of gossip.

“Was he now?” Jane wondered aloud, her gaze travelling to him.

He clenched his jaw in reply. So she wanted to play now, didn’t she? What did she think? That she’d make him feel embarrassed by discussing his emotional side with their host? She was in for a surprise then, because feelings and he didn’t mix.

“It really isn’t like him to be so concerned, is it?” Jane further directed at Tabitha.

The woman laughed. “You got that right, dah-ling.” She paused. “Oh, how impolite of me. I am Tabitha, my dear. We haven’t been introduced.”

Jane held her hand out. “Jane Smithers. Pleasure to finally meet the woman behind this renowned eatery.”

Tabitha clasped her hand in both of hers. “So,” she said, “I guess congratulations are of the order.” Her pointed gaze landed on Michael.

Here it comes – the Inquisition.

“Thank you, luv,” he replied, watching Jane’s face paling and her mouth opening before she caught herself and closed it.

Tabitha patted his shoulder. “You must be really happy at this wonderful news,” she said.

Time to aim for the kill and be done with it. “Of course we are,” Michael replied. “Now, Tabby darling, it’s still rather early, and nobody really knows about it.”

“Oh, my lips are sealed. Don’t worry.” She turned to Jane and squeezed her hand. “I am really happy for both of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see to my other patrons.”

“It’s okay, darling. We know you’re much in demand here.” He smiled at her and watched as she blushed under the attention.

Tension hung heavy in the air while they both waited for Tabitha to walk out of earshot.

“You let her believe I’m expecting your baby?” Jane finally hissed as she leant forward towards him, anger slashing her cheekbones with a dark stain.