Annihilate Me (Vol. 1) (The Annihilate Me Series) by Christina Ross

You’re not.   And I can tell that it’s wearing on you,
which I get.   Do you want some
advice?”
    “Please.”
    “Keep
screwing with them.   Play the game,
but do it for your own entertainment.   I don’t care because I know that you won’t insult them.   When they talk about visiting Bora Bora,
tell them that you found Mount Merapi in Indonesia more interesting, and that
you’d go back to the Celebes Sea in a minute.   Their eyes will cross.”
    “Have
you been to those places?”
    “Awhile
ago.”
    “Did
you climb Mount Merapi?”
    “I
did.   At night.”
    “But
that’s an active volcano.”
    “So,
it is.”
    “Are
you some kind of jock?”
    “I
used to be.   Now, I just like to
work out.   It’s a good distraction.”
    From what?
    Talking
to him alone put me at ease.   I was
starting to understand how he worked this crowd.   He put on a show for them, they put on a
show for him.   Apparently, that’s
how it worked.  
    “Shit,”
he said.
    “What’s
the problem?”
    “Just
do your best.   Red dress.   Black hair.   Coming our way.”
    “One
of the wolves?”
    “She
could be a pack of them.   Be ready
for her.   She won’t be kind to
you.   She’ll try to slay you.”   He paused and put his hand even more
firmly against my back.   “Immaculata,” he said as the woman stopped in the middle of the hallway
to stare at us.   “How are you?”
    She
was gorgeous—tall and statuesque, but older than Alex and me.   Probably late thirties, but I wouldn’t
have been surprised if she was in her early forties, regardless of how
beautiful she was.   It was tough to
tell.   She looked at me, absorbed
me, and then she turned to Alex with betrayal in her eyes.   “Alex,” she said.   “What a surprise.   I thought you said you were coming alone
tonight?”
    “That
was last week.”
    “Oh,
last week.   Last week.   You make it seem so long ago.   You make it sound like it was years ago,
but it was only last week.   Seven
days ago.   Just seven days since we
last spoke.”
    “Things
have changed since then.”
    “What
things?   Why haven’t I heard?   I hear everything.   People call me.   What could have changed in a week?”  
    Alex
was about to speak, when she turned to me.   “Who is this?”
    “This
is Jennifer Kent.   Jennifer, this is
Immaculata Almendarez.”
    Who in the hell has a name like
that?  
    When
she finally closed the distance between us, I extended my hand, which she took
lightly in a dismissive way before dropping it.  
    “It’s
nice to meet you, Immaculata.”
    She
raised an eyebrow at me.   “Isn’t
it?”   She put her hand between her
formidable breasts and laughed.   “Just joking.   Please, don’t
look so serious.   It’s just my sense
of humor.   It’s a pleasure to meet
you, too, Jennifer.   Cute
dress.   What are you doing with
Alex?”
    This
broad held nothing back.   I was
beginning to see why Alex needed me here.   He had to get to Darius Stavros before he left.   If I wasn’t here, I had no doubt that
she’d hold him up and he’d miss that opportunity.
    Before
I could answer, Alex intervened in an effort to shut her down.   “We’re seeing each other,
Immaculata.   I hope you’ll be happy
for us.”
    “You’re
what?”
    “Seeing
each other.   Just over two weeks
now.”
    “Which
means you were seeing each other last week?”
    “We
hadn’t made it public yet.”
    “I
see.   How mysterious.   How smoke-and-mirrors of you.   Where did you meet?”
    “At
MoMA.”
    “How
romantic.   You met over art.   Probably mooning over one of the
pastels.   Did you just strike up a
conversation?”
    “We
did.   Over the Impressionists.”
    “You
don’t say?”   She turned to me with
venom in her eyes.   “And here I
thought Alex and I had a connection.   I feel so silly right now.   I
came here alone tonight because I thought he was coming alone.   So much can change in a week.   Or two