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With that, she turns on her heel and struts out of the room. I can’t help smirking, proud as hell of my girl. I rise from the table. ‘Gents, it was a pleasure.’
Then I go find Becky. She’s in the reception area, trembling, when I get to her. I fold her straight into my arms.
‘You were so fucking amazing. Confident. Hot.’
I feel her shudder against me, and when I pull back to look at her, I realize she’s laughing. ‘I was a little dramatic.’
‘Spend enough time with us Yanks and it’ll happen.’ I wink at her and press my mouth to hers. She kisses me back deeply, as if she’s letting go of everything she has held inside for so long. As if she’s telling me she’ll be mine. I try to tell her in that kiss, she won’t ever fight alone again.
In the distance, I see Mike head into the toilets. Perhaps there’s just one thing left to do.
‘I’m going to use the bathroom,’ I say. ‘Then let’s get out of here.’
Becky lets go of my hand and I follow Mike into the restroom.
He watches me in the mirror above the urinal as he zips himself back into his jeans.
‘You motherfucker,’ he snarls, his lips trembling with hatred.
He turns quickly and throws a swinging hook at me, but I duck and he misses.
I lunge at him, ramming my forearm into his neck and pinning him to the tiled wall. Then I drive my fist into his gut so hard, he retches.
‘You want to pick a fight, champ, pick it with me.’
I pull my fist back and drive it so hard into his jaw his head rocks back against the tiles. His eyes roll. I rear my arm again and enjoy the crunch when my knuckles connect with his nose. Blood starts pouring from his face. When I release him, he falls to the floor.
I leave him there, holding his stomach and spluttering blood. I look back once and feel no regret, not even an ounce. Just wonderment, that any man would dare to touch a woman like Becky. Never again, for so long as I live.
‘All set?’ I ask Becky, slipping my hand into hers, trying not to wince when she interlaces her fingers with mine.
‘I’m ready to go home.’
I stroke her hair behind her ear. ‘How would you like to meet my brother for lunch, then spend the night running up a tab courtesy of Edmond? Then we’ll fly home tomorrow.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
25
BECKY
I stand in front of the dress bag that’s hanging on my wardrobe door, my hair curled and loosely pinned up, my makeup complete. My nerves have stayed at bay so far, but now I’ve gotten to the point of actually putting on the dress, it seems more real. I’m going to be by Drew’s side as his firm celebrates his accession to named partner.
I can honestly say, an evening like this – black tie, champagne – will be the fanciest event I’ve ever attended. I only hope I don’t say anything out of place, and that I look like someone he can be proud to have on his arm.
Since the day I met him, I’ve wanted to blow him away, the way he does me. Sure, he’s gorgeous. His body is, well, incredible. But it’s more than that. He has a goodness in him. In his blue eyes. I see it when he looks at his family, when he laughs with his friends, and when he looks at me.
He wants to take care of me, but not like Mike. He wants me to be whoever I want to be. He doesn’t want to trap me or control me.
I’ve never met a man quite like Drew Harrington.
For all his success, for all the cut-throat attitude I’m sure he displays at work, he still has the most tender of touches. The way he looks me in the eye and strokes my face, the way he never wants me to look down; he makes me feel extraordinary. I want to be strong for me, and for him.
I had nine months in New York before I met him. In that time, I started to find myself. I became more than someone’s daughter to be ordered around and put down. I realized I could be free of a husband’s hold and try things, go places, for myself.
I was afraid to lose the strength I’d found. But being with Drew, I don’t lose anything. I gain everything. And I still have my independence. It’s something so precious to me now, I’ll never give it up. The best part is, he doesn’t want me to. And he wants to keep his too.
I unzip the dress bag and lift out the gray silk gown, letting the train fall to the floor. We bickered over the dress, in the way we do, a kind of playful way where we always know which one of us will win – and that changes each time. Yesterday, we bickered because I wanted to buy my own dress for the dinner tonight. Drew said he was the reason we were going and he should pay.
