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Coming to this restaurant tonight with no one escorting us is an example of dumb shit I do.
Scarlett inhales deeply, and I can feel her gaze on me, heavy and questioning. I finally dare to glance over at her, prepared to see the hatred in her eyes, all over her face, but all I notice is...
Gratitude.
“Thank you for getting me out of there,” she says, her voice soft.
“I’m the reason all of that just happened to you, so it’s the least I could do.” I want to touch her. Cup her face and ask if she needs anything—if she needsme—but she’ll most likely tell me no.
So I keep my hands to myself.
“I appreciate it.” Her smile is small, her eyes watery, and I swear if she starts crying, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Tears freak me out. A pretty woman’s tears especially.
“Scarlett.” I give in to my urges and touch her face, skimming my fingers across her cheek. Her eyelids flutter, and a single tear drops from the corner of her right eye, slowly making its way down her face. I catch it with my thumb. “You’re crying.”
“I know. I’m sorry. She was awful.” Her voice is a hoarse whisper. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“Damn it.” I pull her into my arms, grateful she didn’t put her seat belt on yet as I cradle her close to me. She rests her cheek on my shoulder, a soft sigh escaping her, and I settle my hand on her hair. Tangle my fingers in the soft strands as I slowly begin to stroke. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I glance down at her to see her eyes are closed, another tear sliding down her cheek. I catch that one too. “I’m okay.”
“We won’t let that happen again. Security is going with us everywhere from now on,” I say firmly, working my jaw.
I’ve never been tempted to hit a woman before in my life, but that bitch tonight... What she did was completely un-fucking-called for.
My phone rings, and I check the screen to see that it’s Roger. I answer immediately, not in the mood to deal with him, yet knowing I can’t ignore him either. “What?”
“I just spoke to Leonard. He said that there was some trouble at the restaurant?” At least he has the decency to sound appalled.
“Who’s Leonard?”
“The restaurant manager. What happened? He didn’t give me much detail. Just said you two ran into some trouble.”
“And what, he called you to let you know?” That’s some weird shit.
“He’s an old friend. Wanted to reach out and let me know before I heard it somewhere else.”
“So you already know what happened. That a woman attacked Scarlett in the bathroom,” I tell him, my voice flat.
“Attacked? As in physically assaulted her?” Roger is practically screaming.
The panicked look on Scarlett’s face makes me feel bad for phrasing it that way. “It wasn’t that bad,” she whispers.
“More like the woman interrogated her and cornered her in the restroom,” I explain.
Roger mutters a few choice curse words under his breath. “What sort of operation is Leonard managing over there? He mentioned there was a little run-in, but he glossed over all the fine details. Please tell Scarlett I’m sorry. I thought it would be good exposure to get you kids out on the town and showing yourselves off at the hottest restaurant in Santa Monica, but that backfired.”
“We probably should’ve gone to the other restaurant in Beverly Hills,” I tell him, though, shit, it’s probably bad over there too.
“When I put this together, I didn’t imagine something like this could happen. Again, please apologize to Scarlett for me.” Roger at least sounds contrite.
“I’ll let her know.” I glance over at Scarlett to find her still watching me.
“How’s she handling it?”
“She’s good. She’s strong.” I smile at Scarlett, who returns a small smile in my direction.
