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She doesn’t like this guy. Her smile is pleasant and fake, and her eyes are guarded. I might not know everything about Gabby, but I’ve seen her relaxed and happy. This isn’t it.
He bends down to kiss her on her cheeks, holding her just a little too close for a little too long. He’s definitely drunk—his eyes are bleary, and his breath reeks of booze. She stiffens and disentangles herself from his octopus-like grip. I straighten my shoulders and tighten my grip on the wine glass, fighting to keep my cool. Tempted as I am to punch the guy in the face, I doubt that Gabriella would appreciate the very public scene. It doesn’t seem her style.
Who’s this guy? He sounds British. Is this someone Gabby used to know in London? An ex, maybe?
Carter’s expression ices over. He leans back in his chair and puts his hand over Gabriella’s.
It’s a claiming gesture, one Leo does not miss. “Who are your friends?” He leers down her top, his eyes glued to the swell of her breasts. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
It’s all I can do not to punch him in his face. I grit my teeth. “My name is Dominic Crawford. And you are?”
“Leo Norris.” He says it as if I’m supposed to recognize him. My expression stays blank, and his face sours. “I play soccer.”
Ah. Gabby’s firm represents a lot of sports figures. Leo Norris must be a client.
Norris is far too drunk to register that we don’t want him around. Either that, or he’s enjoying his view of Gabby’s cleavage too much. I swear to God, if this disgusting pervert doesn’t stop looking down her top, my patience is going to snap.
“I didn’t see you at the office the last time I was in,” Norris continues, addressing Gabby. He grins conspiratorially at the two of us. “Gabriella has the best ass and tits in that place.”
My control snaps. I half-rise out of my chair, but before I can do more than that, my best friend has already intervened. His hand comes up to Norris’ shoulder. The next moment, Norris is on his butt on the floor, blinking up at us.
Nicely done, Carter. Remind me to learn that move.
Norris’ face darkens with a mixture of anger and confusion. “Oh dear,” Carter says smoothly, offering his hand to him. “You must have lost your footing. The floors here can get so slippery.”
“Marble, you know.” I shake my head sadly. “Looks good, but not really practical.” I raise my hand to attract Jamal’s attention, and he’s at our table in an instant. “Jamal, could you help Mr. Norris to his table?”
Jamal, who has witnessed the entire incident, bites back his grin and nods. “Of course, Mr. Crawford. This way, sir.”
Norris looks dazed but doesn’t protest. Too drunk still. His alcohol-fogged, pea-sized brain is trying to make sense of this situation. With any luck, if he even remembers this incident tomorrow, he’ll believe the suggestion Carter’s planted in his mind—that he slipped on a slick floor and fell to the ground.
“Enjoy your meal,” I say dismissively. Jamal leads the man away, and I turn back to Gabby.
She bites her lower lip. “Sorry about that.”
“Why are you apologizing?” I ask with a frown. “You’re not the dickhead. Does that guy talk to you like that at work? Why is he still a client?”
She laughs disbelievingly. “Why is he still a client? Because he’s a big deal and I’m not. Come on, Dominic. You’re not stupid. You know how the world works. At least with me, he’s kept the harassment verbal. He groped Anna.” She looks disgusted. “He can’t take no for an answer.”
“And they haven’t dropped him?”
She rolls her eyes. “Drop him? This is Karpis we’re talking about. Sexual harassment or not, the client is always right.”
She is trying to brush off the incident, but she looks shaken. “Why do you work there?” Carter asks bluntly.
“What else am I supposed to do?” She lifts her chin. “I fucked up. I had money saved to branch off on my own, and I lost it all in one stupid night of poker. I made my bed.”
I give Gabby a disbelieving look. “You made a mistake. How long are you going to punish yourself?” I love her. I hate the thought of Gabby being forced to work with guys like Leo Norris. Guys who think that their fame is a license to harass women. Guys who don’t hear the word ‘No.’
Her gaze drops to her empty plate. “I borrowed money from my parents,” she replies. “Right now, the most important thing isn’t starting my own company. It’s paying them back.”
“Let me help.” The strain of not punching Norris vibrates through me, and my voice comes out urgent. “Please. Quit your job. You need seed money to start your own company? Take it from me; I have more than enough. You shouldn’t be forced to work with guys like that, Gabby. You shouldn’t have to work for a company that turns a blind eye to sexual harassment. Let me help.”
“No,” she says flatly. She looks up. “Dominic, it’s a nice offer. It really is.” Her dark eyes swim with emotion. “And you’re a sweetheart for making it. But I have to do this on my own.”
