Re: Press Table
The press liked to paint Thomas a certain way, and he'd be lying if he said the money wasn't a big draw, but most of the time the playboy thing sprung up without Thomas doing a damn thing. Roger was getting to Thomas with a skill that would have been admirable if it was more pointed. Thomas didn't move as Roger went around him, and he didn't immediately reply to Max since his eyes were on the other man. One arm shot out as Roger headed toward the table, and two seconds slower it would have been a blow that caught him in the bicep, but as it was, it barred his way from proceeding.
"The invitation was for Max, actually." He turned his chin toward her. "I am trying," he said slowly, "to make a statement." About her, clearly, from the way he looked at her. Thomas bent his arm at the elbow slowly until his hand was between them at chest level, open, as if to shake his hand.
"I'm sorry, I know it's awkward for you, Darman. But we can talk about it later." First he addressed him by name, and then he leaned slightly in and lowered his voice. More significantly for the two of them, however, he put his voice into a different range entirely, and it became a very familiar voice indeed.