Disruption (7 page)

Guess he’d heard quite a bit.

I shrugged. It wasn’t as if he would have preferred me to give Travis the real explanation. I gestured a hand towards him. ‘Did you just pull the drunk act so you could cop a feel in there?’

Quentin seemed surprised, even pleased, by my observation. He stood taller, letting go of any pretence that he wasn’t in control of his actions. Oh, he’d had a drink or two, but nowhere near the amount his behaviour had indicated inside Burn.

‘Just keeping up appearances.’

I assumed he meant for his brothers, given that he was supposed to be out with them. But just in case he’d had any ulterior motive, I moved into his space. This time it was him who arched back.

‘Did you think you could get me to pander to your every need? That the gorgeous Quentin Mercer was so irresistible? You forget, I know the truth,’ I said, leaving the ‘neg’ word hanging heavily between us. ‘Trust me, you don’t want to play with me, Mercer. I play dirty.’ Oddly, I hoped he was paying attention.

His head tilted carefully, his eyes locked on mine, and I accepted his reluctant nod.

‘Who are you?’ This question came in a low voice coated in vulnerability and uncertainty. I couldn’t help but feel a spark of protectiveness towards him. Which only pissed me off.

‘Right now? I’m the difference between you having a future or not. Go home and forget about tonight because tomorrow we have work to do.’

For all my bravado, he seemed to see something different in my eyes. I watched as the corner of his mouth lifted slightly and felt how, for some crazy reason, my own lips did the same. I quickly turned my back to him and started down the alley.

‘So you think I’m gorgeous, huh?’ he called out after me, mischief in his voice.

I kept walking. I wasn’t about to defend my slip-up. Or the traitorous smile I wasn’t quite able to wipe from my face.

I
made my way through classes the next day, feeling the weight of eyes following me. A target had been painted on my back since my apparent rating with Mercer, the rest of the students unsure what it might mean. I tried to ignore the stares, but it was cumbersome to have to deal with the increased male attention.

Sitting down in my English Studies class, I noticed a group of guys passing around a bottle of pills. I also noticed that Quentin – sitting in his usual seat in the back – waved them off when offered.

Celery and zinc are forms of androsterone, making them a ‘natural’ aid to increasing perceived attraction. Result: guys threw back zinc supplements like tic-tacs and girls drank celery juice like water.

Half of them didn’t even have active Phera-tech yet. I shook my head and doodled in my notebook as I waited for class to begin. Mr Ferris was always late.

When Phera-tech started, labs went crazy, flooding the market with perfumes and sprays they claimed enhanced pheromone output, which would help people attract better partners. Most were rip-offs and the ones that did work attracted
everyone
, sending out a wide signal that responded in the same way to all recipients. The fakes were easy to spot and quickly outlawed. Following that, the tech was updated to ensure a more accurate pheromone reading.

However, even if someone used the external pheromones and doused themselves in enhancing perfumes, nothing could override a neg rating.

Dad had been interested in the way Phera-tech worked too, but his tests had been different.

His attention had been on altering the way one person
released
a pheromone signature. He had been doing similar things in his work, making pesticides for crop farms. Dad had developed a range of pesticides that ‘re-educated’ attraction between insects. In the end, his fascination had cost him his freedom, our family, and maybe his life.

My father had been trying to make a difference. And he’d been making headway too. But he’d also had one failed experiment. One that had changed not the way a signal was
released
, but how it was received.

It was the remains of that experiment that I’d poured into Quentin’s inhaler.

‘You’re Maggie, right?’ Ryan Merit said as he took his seat beside me.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. ‘You’ve been sitting next to me in this class all year, and
now
you want to know my name?’

He smiled sheepishly and I could tell he intended it to be charming. Ryan was ‘that’ guy. Correction, if Quentin wasn’t already ‘that’ guy at school, it would’ve been Ryan. He was tall, dark and handsome, in that captain-of-the-rowing-team kind of way. But he didn’t have the edge to him that Quentin had and, well, he wasn’t a Mercer, so he simply didn’t carry the same social cred. But still, he was an over achiever and the kind of guy you wouldn’t be surprised to hear had set up office in the White House one day. Oval shaped.

‘I’ve always known your name,’ he said. ‘I just thought maybe it was time we got to know one another a bit … better.’ When I didn’t respond, he cleared his throat. ‘Coffee?’

Suddenly it felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped to freezing. I noticed the nervous flicker of Ryan’s eyes as he looked beyond me. The combination of small gasps and wide eyes from the students sitting around me confirmed where the chill was coming from.

I took a deep breath before shaking my head and looking down at my notes. ‘Not interested,’ I said.

I glanced up in time to see Ryan’s eyes flicker behind me again, right before he glanced at my M-Band. ‘Maybe you should give the tech some more time. You might be pleasantly surprised.’

Oh, wow. I was about to tell him where to go when the screech of a chair behind us stopped me. Ryan bit his lip, as if contemplating his next move. When he glanced back at me, his sheepish smile had returned. ‘Or not,’ he said, turning his attention to the front of the class.

There was no need to turn around. Unlike Ryan, I knew everyone’s name and where they sat. Especially Quentin Mercer.

He was playing his part. I knew that. Still, it was an impressive display of possessiveness. Quentin had just made a clear statement that I knew would travel the school halls in record time.

But had he needed to be so full on? Hadn’t he wanted to avoid attention? Or was his reaction something different?

I shut my eyes tight, forcing myself not to look over my shoulder and into his eyes. I needed to
stop
thinking about him. An image of Dad flashed into my mind and I held onto it.

When I opened my eyes, it was with a fresh resolve. Tonight, I’d put Quentin to the test.

‘Where are we going?’ Quentin asked. He’d been waiting for me by my locker after the last class. I was almost surprised he’d turned up; he hadn’t appeared in the two afternoon classes we shared. In fact, I hadn’t seen him since English Studies.

His arms were crossed and his forehead creased. It was distracting. His buzz-short hair and olive skin lent itself well to the furrowed, solemn look. Too well.

‘What’s up with you?’ I asked, trying to ignore his glare while I put my books away.

He waited until I was finished. ‘You need to stop flirting.’

I did not see that one coming.

‘I didn’t think I was. It was you who was getting handsy last night from memory,’ I snapped.

His nostrils flared. ‘Not with
me
. With every other guy in the school!’

‘Didn’t peg you for the jealous type. But, again, I hadn’t realised I was.’ Despite having to reject a few more invitations for study dates or after-school coffees, and one offer of a lift home, which to be honest, under normal circumstances I probably would’ve taken just because I hated the bus, I hadn’t flirted at all. ‘What’s your problem anyway?’

He lowered his voice. ‘Everyone is going to try to move in on you now that we’re a thing.’

My eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling. ‘A
thing
?’

‘We rated high. And as far as everyone is aware, we
both
then chose to turn off our Phera-tech. So how did you think they were all going to interpret that?’

He was right. The only acceptable reason for turning off Phera-tech was if you’d met someone you were going to be monogamous with. It was the obvious conclusion that people would draw, even if it had only happened a few days ago. I always knew I’d have to deal with this particular side effect of my scheme.

‘What are you suggesting?’ I said, letting him think this had all been his idea.

‘That until we find a way for me to turn on my Phera-tech, you need to act as if you are mine.’

I coughed loudly. It was that, or burst into laughter.

‘It’s for your own protection. Do you have any idea what some people would do to take what’s
maybe
mine from right under my nose?’

Actually I did. I’d done it myself when I’d taken his freedom.

‘It never worried you with Ivy,’ I argued. He’d seemed unfazed by all the attention she received.

‘That’s because Ivy was never a real match,’ he said, dismissing her in a beat.

‘Nor are we,’ I threw back.

He shook his head. ‘You know what I mean!’ He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. ‘Do you have any idea what it means, to be with a Mercer?’

I nodded. It meant potentially being part of the most powerful and wealthy family in the world. I had known this when I made my choice to set Quentin up, realising it would force us together in a way I needed, in a way that would give me access to M-Corp, but even so … My mouth had suddenly gone very dry. It was possible I hadn’t thought through this aspect as much as I should have.

‘Stop talking to other guys,’ he ordered. But when I looked up at him, I could’ve sworn there was something other than a warning there. Involuntarily, my stomach flipped.

‘We need to make plans for tonight. My shift starts in an hour. Can you come to my work?’

He nodded stiffly. ‘My car’s out front.’

‘Is that such a great idea?’ I questioned, unsure if I should be moving around town in a Mercer vehicle.

‘In future we can be more discreet. But today, having everyone watch as I take you to my car?’ He smirked, leaning back into the wall. ‘It’s the best idea I’ve had all week.’

I couldn’t help but wonder what Quentin was thinking. Sometimes he seemed so confident, then at other times, when he thought no one was watching, the façade would slip and there was sorrow there. The type that hit my chest and made it ache.

I wondered what worried him the most. If it was that he might not be the hotshot he once thought he’d be, then too bad. But I was beginning to think it was something else, something that had a lot more to do with happiness and even … love. But that didn’t make sense. He was a Mercer, and all that family cared about was money and power.

Fisting my hands so that my nails bit into my palms, I fixed my attention on the window. No more delving.

It wasn’t surprising when Quentin instructed his driver to take him to the Clarendon M-Store. I was sure if he hadn’t previously known where I worked, he would’ve done his homework on me by now. Did he find it suspicious or ironic? Had he even given it a thought?

When we pulled up, I turned my attention to him. ‘There’s someone I want to introduce you to inside.’

Quentin’s wariness was obvious. But this was going to be a test for both of us. One – given the events of last night – I now felt was necessary.

If I’d learned anything over the past two years, it was to fix a problem before it fixed you. And I couldn’t be sure that Quentin hadn’t seen Gus in the alley the night before. Just because he hadn’t come out and said anything … He was a smart guy. It would be foolish to underestimate him.

Eventually Quentin nodded and directed his attention to his driver. ‘William, wait for me on the next corner.’

William didn’t ask for how long. He was probably paid not to ask questions. He simply came out to open the door for us. The one I’d already opened and jumped out of. My bad.

Avoiding the store’s front, I headed straight for the alley entrance. The last thing we needed was to broadcast our every move. Quentin followed.

When I opened the door to Gus’s office, it was almost worth the apprehension just to see the look on Gus’s face when he saw who I’d brought with me.

Credit where credit is due though, Gus recovered with stellar speed, turning a hateful expression on me. ‘As if you haven’t already caused me enough grief, now you have to bring in a ticking time bomb.’ He gestured to Quentin.

I watched carefully, noting the surprise in Quentin’s expression. He was either very good, or he really hadn’t recognised Gus in the alley last night. Oh well, it was better to be safe than sorry. If he had seen Gus and I hadn’t come clean, he never would’ve trusted me the way I needed him to.

Quentin cleared his throat. ‘Mr Reynolds.’ He put his hand out to shake, all gentlemanly, but his eyes were focused on the ugly bruise that had flowered high on Gus’s left cheek.

Gus responded with a short snort. ‘Maggie, you’ve gone too far this time. I helped you out last week, but that was where this should’ve ended. Don’t drag me into your shit.’

Gus really should’ve been an actor, or an underwear designer. He covered his ass like no one.

I smiled sweetly and turned to Quentin. ‘He loves me, really. Quentin, this is Gus.’

‘What’s going on?’ Quentin asked, trying to put the pieces together.

‘Yes, Maggie,’ Gus deadpanned. ‘What is going on?’

I dropped my backpack and pulled out a chair for Quentin and then one for myself. Quentin didn’t sit.

‘Gus works for me, in a sense.’ I flashed a brief smile.

‘You don’t actually think I didn’t cotton on to what went on in the testing room the other day, did you?’ Gus said, now playing his part perfectly.

‘You
knew
?’ Quentin said, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. It was a good thing to ruffle his feathers a bit, take back control of the situation. I’d realised the night before that if Quentin discovered on his own that Gus worked with me, it would only encourage suspicion. This way, I knew the surprise would catch him off guard. And it had. I could already see his focus was centred solely on whether he’d been outed as a neg.

‘Apart from the fact you looked like you were going to pass out the moment you turned on your Phera-tech, I actually know Maggie and her charming personality. Not to mention her total disregard for health and highly questionable dietary choices. Frankly, I’m not sure it is possible for her to rate that high with
anyone
.’

I shrugged, comfortable with Gus’s assessment of me, as I pulled out a family-sized bag of marshmallows and started popping a few.

‘I don’t get it. Why did you help then?’ Quentin asked.

Damn it. I actually felt sorry for the guy. You could tell the pheromone rating had really screwed with him. For a guy used to always being in charge and getting what he wanted, he was now so uncertain. And while I felt low about it, there was another side of me, the one driving my actions, that found myself feeling satisfied that this uncertainty was making him play right into my hands.

‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ I butted in. ‘Gus owes me. Big time. And I’m the kinda girl who collects.’

‘With interest,’ Gus mumbled.

Quentin gestured to Gus’s black eye. He’d taken a couple of good hits last night. Apparently I’d only arrived in time to see the finale.

‘You were at Burn last night.’

Statement. But I could tell he was now only working it out.

‘Yes. Getting the shit kicked out of me because you decided to show up and get in the way. Next time, do us all a favour and don’t go near Maggie unless she sends you a written invitation.’

‘Angsty much?’ I said, holding back the smile.

Gus tilted his head. ‘Apologies, mistress-of-all-that-is-bitch, were you expecting me to thank him for the beating he caused me last night? Hell, Maggie, I told you it was your thing if you wanted to help a Mercer. I covered for you in the test, but you could’ve done the decent thing and left me out of it.’ Oh man, he was good. Sly bastard.