Clint Anderson looked like he had bit into a lemon thinking it was an apple. See, this was why he was so easy to hustle out of his money at the poker table--he was unable to hide his displeasure. Not even for a moment. Not even slightly. Gene figured it was a product of all that privilege. He bet that Clint had a whole team of nannies growing up, ready to protect him from even the slightest discomfort. Now in the real world, he didn't know what to do with displeasure. It was like a foreign concept to him. His face scrunched up and his eyes became tiny icy slits framed by an aristocratic scowl.
Gene smiled at him. Packing as much mocking innocence into the gesture as he could muster.
It would have been perfect if the standoff had been allowed to sink into the moment, stretching out longer and longer until it became a point of pride not to break first. But Ethan cleared his throat. "So that's what it is," he said. Trying—pathetically—to push a response out of Clint.
"Can I count on your support?" Ethan asked.
That sounded too tentative to Gene's ears. Too much like asking for permission, rather than informing Clint that this was happening. How did Ethan even do his job? He seemed like such a pushover, eager to go along for the sake of just going along. That was almost certainly what Clint saw in their relationship. Someone he could bully playfully and recruit for the Greek chorus that served as his inner circle. That was probably what the vampires liked about Ethan too. It was unfair to say that he was spineless, but he lacked the presence of the masters of the universe that roamed K Street with their bags of cash and legal parlor tricks.
Clint's face shifted to a more neutral expression as he thought about this. Oh, now it had occurred to him that this unpleasant experience could mean more money for him. God, he was so hilariously transparent. Practically criminally simple-minded. It was horrifying to Gene that the world order revolved around people like this. It was the clearest evidence that God had a sense of humor.
"Depends," Clint said. He was studying Gene like he'd never seen him before. He was probably trying to figure out how he could squeeze the most out of the situation. Would he ask for a favor in return? Would he indulge in the opportunity to listen to himself speak for a full two minutes and make Ethan nod his head along and display his submission? Would he set ridiculous conditions forbidding Gene from touching certain types of work, entering certain parts of the office, or attending certain events so that every day in the office it was broadcast to everyone who the lord was and who the vassals were? Gene knew better than anyone else that payoffs didn't have to be financial to be appealing.
"Are you going to be a sneaky little fuck working for me or against me?" Clint finished.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Reversal: vampires, time travel, memes... to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.