Page 48 of Obsessed Mr. O’Brian

He hands her over without hesitation and leans down to murmur in my ear.

“I’ll take you to the quiet room as soon as I can extricate myself from this mess.”

I shake my head.

“I know where it is. We’ll have better luck avoiding a meltdown if I slip away,” I respond.

In front of everyone, he bends down and kisses Lola on the head. I smile and start to step back, but he grabs my hips and steals a peck to my cheek before murmuring in my ear, “Be safe, my angel.”

“Of course, Mr. O’Brian,” I tease as I pull away.

He lets me go with a hungry glance at my lips. I turn and fit Lola more comfortably on my hip and find the clearest route to the nearest wall. If I were more coordinated or less sore, I’d sway my hips for him, but Lola doesn’t deserve a case of seasickness on top of the current chaos, so I walk with my normal gait and make it to the side of the room without much difficulty.

Lola wiggles. I ask her if she wants to walk, and when she nods, I remind her to hold my hand before setting her down. With a thumb in her mouth and her other hand in mine, she trails along beside me.

As we turn into the side hall, the intercom buzzes with an announcement. Lola screams and launches herself against the back of my leg. My knee gives out, and my weight tilts backward, but I pinwheel and throw myself forward so I don’t land on her.

I knock into a woman wearing a bright red dress and more makeup than I’ve ever worn in my entire life. She screams and pitches backward. With Lola still wrapped around my leg and the ground rushing up to me, I brace for impact.

The woman’s partner catches us both. I right myself as fast as possible, thank him for stopping my fall, and apologize to the lady.

Unease curdles my stomach as the man refuses to lift his eyes from my chest. I glance down and place a hand over my sternum, but with the body tape and plunging neckline, there isn’t much I can do about the exposed flesh. At least nothing shifted and I haven’t flashed the entire venue.

The woman shrieks and jabs my shoulder with a claw-tipped finger.

“You did that on purpose. You’re trying to steal my man,” she snarls.

Queasiness grips me, and if it weren’t for Lola’s body trembling against my leg, I would run for the nearest door.

“Ma’am, I tripped. It was an accident. I—”

“You snuck in here through the back door, didn’t you? Look at what you’re wearing. You’re a whore, aren’t you?”

At the woman’s angry voice, Lola whimpers and squeezes my thigh so hard my toes pulse from lack of circulation.

“Whose child did you rope into joining this little pity act? Oh wait, she’s probably yours, right?” She pushes my shoulder. “She’s a slut’s dirty little—”

My instincts—and everything I’ve learned from the self-defense class I joined eight years ago—kick in. I grab her fingers, jerk them backward, and keep pushing until my elbow fully extends. She screams, twists, and sobs as I hold her at arms’ length by her middle and ring fingers.

An eerie calm settles over me. No one will hurt Lola.

“I dare you to finish that sentence,” I say.

The man steps forward. I shift my attention to him.

Whatever he sees in my eyes makes him shuffle backward.

“You owe my daughter an apology.”

Clear. Concise. Comprehensive.

I almost don’t recognize my own voice. It belongs to the woman I saw in the dressing room mirror, not the meek nanny I’ve embodied for most of my adult life. I’ve never taken this tone with anyone in my life… and I’ve never been more me before.

The woman sputters. I tilt my wrist. She shrieks and screams for someone, anyone, to help her.

I keep my gaze trained on her ugly, desperate face and wait for her to realize there is no escape from me because it doesn’t matter who joins in; no one will besmirch Lola O’Brian in front of me. I don’t give a shit what she says about me, but the girl clinging to my leg is pure, innocent, and perfect.

The man grabs her shoulder.