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He’s leaning close, practically in my face. He snaps his fingers just inches from my nose. “Hello? Earth to Layla.” He laughs. “Is there anyone in there?”
A heartbeat later, a furious Jason is looming over Reese, his expression dark and tight. “Get out,” he says through gritted teeth, his voice nearly a growl. “Either you get the fuck out of this restaurant right now, or I will throw you out.”
Reese looks taken aback as he glances first at Jason, then at me. “What the hell?”
Jason grabs hold of the back of Reese’s shirt collar and tugs, nearly toppling his chair. “Right now. Out. I won’t tell you again.”
“Fine!” His face beet red, Reese shoots to his feet, causing his chair to scrape back loudly. He points at me. “What the hell is your problem?” And then he redirects his finger toward Jason and scowls. “And you? You’re just the fucking hired help. Go find someone else to piss on.” And then he stalks out of the restaurant without a backward glance.
I lift my gaze to look at Jason, who’s staring at the door Reese just walked through. He’s wound tight, his jaw clenched hard, his nostrils flaring, and for a minute I’m afraid he’s going to go after Reese. He even takes a couple of steps toward the door.
“Jason?”
He freezes in his tracks, then turns back to me. Instantly, his expression softens as he looks me over. “Are you okay?”
As I look toward the exit, I nod. I’m half-afraid Reese will change his mind and come back.
Our server arrives then and sets our plates on the table. “Can I get you anything else?” he asks me. He avoids looking at Reese’s vacant seat and the angry male standing behind it.
“No, thank you,” I murmur.
As the server walks away, Jason looks at me, then at Reese’s plate, which holds a twenty-ounce steak and a huge baked potato, and then my plate. He meets my gaze and grins. “These meals are too good to let go to waste.” He grips the back of Reese’s chair. “May I join you for dinner?”
The suffocating weight of a horrible evening evaporates. “Please do.”
Jason sits and flags down our server to ask for a bottle of sparkling water. When it arrives, he pops off the top and lifts his bottle. “How about a new toast? To a delicious meal and good company.”
For the first time all evening, I have a real reason to smile. “The very best.”
Chapter 30
Jason Miller
I wanted to strangle Reese the moment he snapped his fingers in Layla’s face.No onesnaps their fingers at Layla—she’s not a fucking dog. I was seething as I stormed over to their table, and it took everything I had in me to refrain from body slamming him to the floor and beating him senseless. The gall of that presumptuous, entitled prick! How dare he treat her like that?
But we got the last laugh. After Reese runs off with his tail tucked between his legs, I take his vacated seat, and Layla and I proceed to eat a fantastic meal together.
“I’m sorry, Layla.” I reach across the table for her hand and hold it in mine. “I never should have encouraged you to go out with him. This is on me.”
“It’s not your fault.” She laughs shakily. “At least now I can say I’ve been out on a date.”
“A shitty one. You deserve so much better. You deserve someone who treats you like a queen.”
Blushing, she takes a bite of her salmon.
“How is it?” I point to her meal.
“It’s wonderful. How’s your steak?”
“Perfect. Medium rare, just how I like it. I have to admit, the blond hulk has good taste in food. Too bad he’s a fucking moron.”
She laughs.
The color has returned to her cheeks, and she looks happy and relaxed. I’m kicking myself for ever suggesting that she go out with Reese. I understand why Ruth thought it might be a good idea, and that I should encourage her to say yes, but the outcome just wasn’t worth it.
Layla can’t go out with just any random schmuck who asks her. She needs someone who knows her well, really understands her, and accepts her. She needs someone to love her unconditionally, because she’s perfect just the way she is. Reese clearly isn’t that person. I don’t know if there’s anyone good enough for her.
“Remind me to thank Reese,” I say as I polish off the last bite of my steak.
