Page 54 of Finally, His

She recognized one, a tall, lanky guy she’d labeled Sneerface. He never talked much. But rather scoffed his way through most conversations. Another guy she didn’t recognize stood next to him. Sneerface leaned down and whispered something to him. The man’s eyes sliced her way, and he nodded once.

Shit. Were they planning to snatch her already?

Where was Richard? She had to find him. Once she was off the runway, she turned back behind the garment racks, kicked off her shoes, and slipped on her flats. Screw taking off the dress, though she itched to rip it off.

She didn’t belong in a wedding dress, let alone one of Laurent’s creations.

When she’d been wearing it, showing it off, she’d felt new—like clean spring rain. Seeing Wayne, his disgusted face—yes, it was pure disgust coloring his eyes—she’d curdled inside. The look was familiar. It had its usual effect. Shame tried to creep into every pore.

The stiff blue silk rustled as she scooted down the hall. The Arts and Industries building was big but not impossibly large. She had to find him—and prayed he wasn’t with Wayne.

If they were together … Well, Wayne, certainly, would have nothing good to say about her. Because if she knew one thing about him, he’d ruin whatever good he saw happening around Charlotte.

Richard’s low rumble echoed in the East Hall. The rich tone drew her forward like a siren’s call.

She rounded the corner. Wayne was pressed against the wall. Familiar men stood around Richard, who was mere inches from him.

Sneerface strode up behind her, went around her as if she were nothing more than an obstacle to ignore, and marched up behind Richard.

Marcos’ hand flew out and landed on the guy’s chest. “Step back, buddy. Not your scene.”

Marcos had gotten her away from Wayne—once he’d learned what had happened between them. But maybe Sneerface and Marcos had never met? Her memory around that time was spotty.

Sneerface earned his name as he leered back at Marcos.Stupid man.The guy was playing with fire and didn’t even realize it.

She’d been so fixated on finding Richard that it was only then she realized that the other men with Marcos were Carson, Derek, andAlexander.

Whatever was going down was serious.

She didn’t know what courage she found, but she ran up to them. “Stop,” she called.

Richard’s eyes turned to her, blazing with fury. “Get back to Sarah.”

“No.” She lifted her chin and brazened a look at Wayne. He’d aged. Lines marred his forehead, but basically, he was the same shyster. Slicked back hair. Expensive suit that he made look cheap. Why did she not see the poser he was back then?

The fire lit anew in Richard’s eyes. “Now, Charlotte.”

Alexander touched her elbow but said nothing.

Wayne let out a puff of air from his nostrils, screwed his lips together, and shook his head slowly. “Really, Charlotte? A wedding dress. At least you knew better than to wear white.”

When she’d been walking down the catwalk, the dress had begun to feel good, like maybe she and it belonged together. It was something pretty, frail but strong, something she’d begun to feel. It was ridiculous, really. She was only one of those things.Weak. Easily taken in. Then used up beyond recognition. Damaged goods didn’t get pretty packages like lace and silk and …

“Alexander, please.” Richard’s voice ran through her like sandpaper. The fury in his eyes did more damage to her soul. She’d never be clean again because the message was clear. “Get her out of here,” he said.

Alexander urged her back. “I’ll escort you, Charlotte.”

Sneerface, for the first time since she’d known him, actually spoke. “An escort for an escort. That’s appropriate.”

Richard’s gaze snapped to him. “You don’t say a word to her or risk losing your tongue.”

Wayne looked past him and chuckled. “Oh? Didn’t know that about our little redhead here? As I told you, she was no more than a prostitute when I found her.” Triumph filled his eyes.

Richard’s head snapped to the side, his eyes slicing over his shoulder toward her but not fully meeting her gaze. His head cocked as if he didn’t understand. Then his shoulders dropped as if Wayne’s words made sense.Escort. Whore. Hooker.Wayne had filled him in—or his version of things, anyway.

Wayne did what he’d set out to do. He’d ruined her—again.

Alexander’s hold on her elbow tightened, and as if she were trash, he took her out of the hall and steered her back to the South Hall.

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