Rich Man

I don't expect you to catch onto my motives quickly. By the time you think you understand, I'll most likely have completely changed my methods of finishing my assignment a dozen times. Like I said, I don't expect you to catch on; no one ever does. And in the rare event that they do, there is always a back-up plan to be used, always another way of going about settling every score and tying up every loose end that separates me from my pay check. In other words, I don't lose.

Never have, never will.

“So you're...?”

“A psychotherapist,” I answered the dark-haired boy.

His eyes lazily studied my face. Milan leaned back in his lazy boy and gave me a good, clean once over. “So does that mean you can read people really good?”

“I suppose.” Lies. I can read you like an open fucking book, but since you're going challenge me, I guess I'll go easy on you.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Go ahead and try me.”

This challenge had caught the attention of the other people in Avery's living room. Blake was watching me, his inner skeptic gleaming. Am I going soft? What the fuck? “Well,” I cleared my throat and gave him a good once over, then let my eyes wander around the room lazily, “Frankly, you're arrogant and cocky as hell. About five minutes ago, you had every intention of picking me up, seeing if I was your usual kind of tail to chase, then the second I told you my profession, you decided I would be too big of a challenge simply because of my level of intelligence.”

By now he was looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Also, you've got a ring tan-line where there was once a... promise ring,” I then examined his widened eyes, which gave me all of the answer that I needed, “ ...from a girl you got in deep with... but the way its faded indicates either she took it back or you threw it away. Judging by your vindictive, hypocritical nature I'll say you were the one that screwed everything up, but you hated yourself for it and now you've been reduced to a womanizer so you forget about it.

"On top of that, you think you deserve the best in life because of your back and what you had to deal with as a kid, but you're struggling now with the idea that you were at fault for something bad that happened to you. You're what I like to call a blinded runner, kid. You're outgoing and cocky to hide the fact that in reality you're confused and lonely.”

The silence of the room was visible at this point. While the vast majority stared at me like I was crazy, the other half tried their best to figure out if Lucic was going to curb stomp my ass at that very moment or not. I half wondered myself if I should have been fearing for my life. After all, I may have been mentally strong, but I wasn't anything next to strong enough to take on a grown man let alone Lucic. Deep down I knew to hold my ground. Why not? He would go straight for the jugular the second he saw weakness, especially in me at that moment.

He cracked a smile.

But of course that smile became quite the resentful sneer in a matter of milliseconds. “You-”

“You're the truly cocky one,” another voice cut in. This time my eyes snapped directly to that of the man sitting between Matt Hunwick and Blake. His eyes were blankly staring me down, tearing me apart for all I was worth. A searing chill constricted my spine, paralyzing my body. “You think you've got him all figured out and you do, but that just adds more confidence to your superiority complex.” Now he was challenging me, which my mind recognized immediately. The way his brow narrowed just slightly, the way he pursed his lips just barely because he already had a come-back planned. It was like acid on his tongue, I could tell. He wanted to stun me, to shut me up.

Would I let him know he was the one I found a challenge in here?

“And you're the enigmatic perfectionist. You save the high-and-mighty bullshit only for when you stick up for your friends, like now. And yeah, I'll admit you have a strong head on your shoulders, but that doesn't mean you're as perfect as your ego tells you. You're just smart about what you say and to when. I'd bet life and limb you think you can beat everyone here in a battle of wit, but you'd never say it. Instead you wait for the right moment and inconspicuously shut people down. It's all part of a superiority complex after all, right?”

The corner of my lips curved upward as soon as his jaw clenched tight, which was the sign I was looking for. That little gesture was all I needed to know that I had completely blown any and all of his return remarks away. Now he could do nothing but watch me watch him, bubbling with a victorious aura of success.

“Nice try, though.”

And now, of course, Matt had to cut in with a goofy grin shouting, “Dude, me next!”

-------------

“That was amazing.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, dropping the eyeliner pencil in the sink. My neck nearly snapped looking at Avery, who was leaning in the doorway of her bathroom. “Oh,” melting into a small smile, I the continued, “thank you.”

The woman apologized for scaring me and gave a small laugh. “How long have you been so good at your profession?”

This time I was the one to chuckle. “It's not about being 'good', per say, it's all about being familiar with people and their actions. Half the time I'm drawing guesses out of the air based on the most general of things.... Sorry, I'm rambling.”

“No, no, really it's fine. Anyone who can shut Looch up without getting physically or verbally pulverized earns my respect. In a way I think you got his too.”

My ears perked at this. Obviously she wasn't bullshitting me. Her body language was too open for that. “I suppose so, but I think I got his attention more than anything. As I said, he's rather sure of himself and when faced with a challenge, those who have similar natures tend to either take it on, or just become weary of it. I doubt I'm anything special.”

“I hope you are,” she blurted. Avery immediately shook her head, curly blonde hair shining in the artificial lighting. “Milan needs someone right now to pull him out of his stupid womanizing phase. His behavior is ridiculous. We all see him with a new girl every few days and they all fit his ex girlfriend's description pretty darn closely. Not to mention he just has to be the best at everything. I mean, he has always been very competitive - that's just Looch – but now he's just so... so...”

“Heartless. I know. He's cold and finds his only satisfaction through petty victories. He won't cheat. Deep down he knows he's better than that. But because he can't have what nearly all of his close friends do, he feels a need to stand out and make himself seem like he doesn't need an other half.”

The girl simply smiled at me, nodding. “That's exactly what I couldn't say. You know, I think having you around is going to be a great wake-up call for him.”

“I'm hoping I'll be able to change him a bit too, but no promises. It's all on him to change. I have no power over his will.”

“I understand,” Avery replied with a knowing grin. “We all have confidence that you can put some kind of dent in his ego. You've made a good start. Just... Watch out. Knowing Milan, he's going to try and find every possible way to bring you down a notch.”

Bring me down a notch? Okay, go ahead and try. Even if he did do his homework, I'd never let him win. He wouldn't be able to take me, not without the same number of years of my experience plus some. However the other man, Bergeron, was the one I found concern with. Obviously he only touched down on the surface of my character and made light of the slightly more obvious features, but the fact that he could say that at all, especially to my face and in front of everyone else, with no problem whatsoever just shows that he was dangerous.

Dangerous. Listen to yourself you twit. He's just the smart guy of the group. Don't get your panties in a bunch unless he does something really big. Then freak out.

----------------

“Hey, sorry it took me so long. Just freshenin' up my mug. God knows I'm going to have to break out the makeup more often being surrounded by your pretty faces,” I smoothly relayed the thought through a laughable tone to the group. Everyone was sitting in the living room still, all munching on ribs, buffalo wings, and chugging down sodas. Meanwhile, Blake and Patrice were gong head to head in a virtual hockey game. Figures.

I had apparently come upon them during a break between periods where they were able to drive the zambonies and race to see who could cover the most ice in something like a minute. Blake had lost and, in his frustration, pushed his Wiimote in my direction. At first I just sort of stared at it, trying to remember how to play this specific game. After awhile, I was able to control the specks of man skating around on the ice, but of course that was after I found out what team I was playing.

Long-story-short, I was not particularly gifted gamer.

I had, in the end, been defeated with an embarrassing score of twelve to five. At first I thought I would never hear the end of it, but to my slight surprise, no one really cared. I got a few “nice try”s, but nothing more or less. It was actually kind of nice, to be honest. With other groups and other assignments, there was always some sort of blatant show of superiority in which I got verbal recognition every time I didn't succeed at something. Half the time it was video games while other times it was sports or physical games. Either way, it was like a condition of playing that everyone ridicule the “loser”.

Apparently in this particular group, game nights like these were a very common thing. That, and quiet days where everyone could just relax and be together over a good meal. I had dealt with athletes before, but never in my career had I a group that got together just for the sake of each others company even if food was involved. Everybody's different, I suppose.

The sun had long been under the horizon, moon hanging high in the gray city sky. The TV radiated scenes from random shows while Blake and Avery indecisively changed channels. My eyes settled on the two of them from my seat in the lazy-boy, taking in all that I could about the two from spurts of glances. She's a smart girl, a bit shady, but means well. I can see where his simplicity and generally happy demeanor would make them click. Especially considering he's quite the double-sided man. There has to be reasons for his behavior. Obviously she's good in bed or else he wouldn't keep coming back, but that's just it. How can he get so intimate with her and not develop emotional attachments? It's not normal for any human to go at it with another for even a month and still not feel a thing. Unle-

“You know you are in my spot, right?”

Flailing my arms, I fell straight out of the chair. Patrice grinned, shaking his head. A set of arms found my waist, pulling me off the ground like some kind of pet. The feeling of his fingers on my skin inhibited my movements. I could do absolutely nothing until I was upright on my feet, seconds later. “Uh... Thanks. Sort of.”

“No, thank you, that was the best laugh I've had all day.”

I shot him a sneering mock-laugh and grumbled. “I'm going to grab a drink.” And with that, I stalked out of the room and straight for the kitchen. Staring out the window, I watched a plane hum smoothly through the air. He likes it on top, that's for sure. Wow, that came out wrong. Then again... I wouldn't put that passed him, actually. That Bergeron kid is frustrating as hell. I haven't felt that deer-in-headlights for years. Obviously he's a step ahead of the others, I just... For the first time, I can't place how. I got the goosebumps just thinking about it.

“You know, you're really bad at taking a joke.”

My brow narrowed at the sight of the brunette, eyes dark and amused in an almost sadistic manner. However his straight mouth contradicted the enticing joy I found in his cold eyes. There were so many details about this man that contradicted each other. I bet that I could sit there and stare at him for a whole day and still not get anywhere.

Still, I returned his expression all in the same. “And you're bad at delivering them. You didn't crack a joke, you scared me. There's a difference.”

“I'm just surprised you didn't flip out when I helped you up.”

At this, my ears perked. “Yeah, well, you were just helping me. There was no reason to.” My stomach turned. I craned my neck slowly away from him and back to the sky. Was I shamelessly trying to hide my blushing? Yes, yes I was. He was going to go straight for the jugular. But why would he do so? He had no reason to want to take me on unless he saw me as a challenge. He obviously had the lion complex. He sees a target, he's going to go for it regardless of size or reason.

And that sent a worried shock up and down my spine that for years I thought I was immune to.

“Don't start thinking I'm going to attack you just yet.”

My eyes widened.

“I'm smart about what I say and when, remember?”