Both are lawyers at the same firm. Both claim they’re single. Both seem very impressed with themselves.
Guy loses interest in me pretty quickly when he spots a pair of blondes by the bar and turns his attention elsewhere.
Price stays.Unfortunately.
He talks at me for the next ten minutes about criminal law, court cases, and some high-profile client he apparently can’t name but very much wants me to know exists. I try to listen. I really do. But the Champagne is making everything in my head feel a little floaty, and his voice has started to blur into meaningless noise.
Then he smiles at me like he thinks he’s charming. “You’re so beautiful,” he drawls.
I give him an awkward smile back. It’s not that I’m against dating. Maybe I should date. Maybe I should actually stop hiding away and try to meet people.
But not this one. Definitely not this one.
Before I can gently steer the conversation elsewhere, he leans in. I lean back but he keeps coming. I lean back farther still, trying to avoid making a scene, but he follows, one hand braced on the back of the booth. Suddenly, he’s far too close, his body half over mine.
Then, just as his mouth is about to land on mine, his weight vanishes.
I blink in confusion.
Price is yanked backwards so fast it takes my fuzzy brain a second to catch up.
Dale has him by the collar, dragging him away from the booth like a misbehaving dog.
I sit upright, dazed, my heart pounding, and I look up . . .
Straight into Ray’s face.
Oh fuck.
His expression is like stone. Hard. Cold.Furious.
“It’s not that kind of establishment,” he says through gritted teeth, “where you can fuck in the booths.”
For a second, I can’t even breathe. Heat floods my face so fast I think I might actually burst into flames.
“I—” My voice catches. “I wasn’t . . . I mean, he . . .”
I look helplessly at Holly, but she’s staring back wide-eyed, just as stunned as I am.
The two men she’d been talking to slide out of the booth slowly, trying not to be noticed. Ray doesn’t even look at them.
“When you return to work,” he says, each word clipped and sharp, “you’ll come and see me so we can go over appropriate staff conduct.”
Then he turns and walks away. Just like that.
I stare after him, humiliated.
“What the fuck just happened?” Holly whispers.
“I don’t know,” I mutter, pressing a hand to my stomach. “But I feel really sick.”
And I do. Mortifyingly, horribly sick. The room tilts. The Champagne churns. I shove out of the booth and stumble away, one hand clamped over my mouth. I head past the bar. Past Ray.
Someone says my name, but I can’t stop.
I spin in panic, desperate to find the bathroom, and Joel points frantically towards a sign at the far end of the room. The toilets are too far away. I know it before I even try. Still, I make a run for it, and I nearly reach them.
And then my heel catches.