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“No thanks.” I stood. This had been a mistake. A giant one.
“Where you going? You haven’t even touched your drink.”
“Somewhere there’s better company.” I turned away, but stopped and looked back. “You know what? You should learn to have more respect for women. A man your age should be keeping an eye on a lady sitting at the bar by herself, not eyeing who he can take advantage of.”
Alex’s face twisted. “You’re all the same. Pretty girls who expect free drinks for nothing in return. That’s not the way the world works, babe.”
My eyes widened. There was so much anger and disappointment inside me. So I expressed it the only way I could at the moment. I picked up the piña colada I hadn’t touched and tossed the contents of the glass in his face. “Nice to meet you, Alex Stewart.”
Before he could wipe the frosty drink from his eyes, Beck was up and over the bar with my father’s shirt in his grip.
Oh shit.
He looked like he was about to kill.
“Beck, no!”
Anger seeped from his pores. “What the fuck did this guy do to you?”
I waved my hands. “He didn’t do anything. Let’s just go.”
When Beck didn’t loosen his grip on Alex, I leaned across the bar and touched his shoulder.
“Beck, please. It’s fine. I just want to get out of here.”
He let go, lifting his chin to my unsuspecting father. “You’re fucking lucky, buddy.”
My father just stood there, wiping the drink from his face, as Beck hopped back over the bar.
“You sure you’re alright?” Beck asked.
I shook my head. “I just want to get out of here.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist and navigated us back through the hotel. Neither of us said a word as we walked up the stairs, into the lobby, and waited for the valet to bring Beck’s rental car. The silence continued as we got in, and Beck drove white-knuckled down the road. We’d gone about a mile when he pulled into the parking lot of a boarded-up laundromat.
He slammed the gear shifter into park and turned to face me. His jaw was hard and rigid. “What happened? Are you sure you’re okay?”
I’d managed to stuff down the emotions of the last hour. But now they all rushed to the surface at once. My mouth trembled as I spoke. “He…hit on me.”
Beck’s face was positively murderous. He mumbled a string of curses under his breath.
I fought the burn of tears. “I said my name—he didn’t even recognize it. How does a person not recognize the name of their child? Even if he’d only heard it once in his life. My name is Eleanor. It’s not like it’s Katelyn or Ashley.” Tears welled in my eyes. “How many Eleanors do you know?”
Beck didn’t say a word. His eyes followed a tear as it streaked down my face. Then he abruptly got out of the car and walked around to my side. He opened the passenger door and held out a hand for me. Once I was standing, he wrapped me in his arms. It shocked the shit out of me, but it was also exactly what I needed. The independent part of me wanted to wiggle out, tell him I was fine and it wasn’t a big deal. But the part of me that few had ever seen needed this so much.
Every hurt I’d felt over the last eleven years about a father who didn’t want me bubbled to the surface. And I cried. And cried. Ugly, snot-leaking, breath-catching cries. Beck held me so tightly, there was a good chance I’d be bruised tomorrow. But I didn’t care. When the sobs finally subsided, he pulled back to look at me.
“Did you get it out?”
I laughed through the last of my emotions. “I did. And it’s all over your shirt.”
Beck smiled. “It’s okay. I have another one.”
He loosened his hold, but didn’t let go until my breathing returned to normal.
“You want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “Not really. There’s not much more than I told you.”
