Page 81 of The Billionaire Boss and the Barista

“Well.” Emma wanted to fall through the floor, but she touched him on the arm. “I think he got it all up.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

EMMA

Disasters were different when they happened to rich people. For the normal unwashed masses getting puked on at a wedding usually meant a very smelly and stomach-churning ride home.

But for people like Garrett, it meant getting escorted to a nearby suite while the concierge ran out to his place to pick up one of his other suits and a pair of shoes.

As for the hallway carpet, the hotel’s cleaning crew took care of the mess with a speed that must have set some kind of record. Another member of the wedding party volunteered to hose Kyle down, providing him with a pair of sweats and a T-shirt branded with the hotel’s name.

By the time they got into the limousine, both men were squeaky clean.

Garrett didn’t say a word the entire ride to Kyle’s mother’s house. It would have been a painful, awkward silence were it not for the fact that Kyle was still drunk. He sang several off-key and garbled renditions of Taylor Swift songs the entire way.

When they got to the house, Garrett told her to stay put while he escorted Kyle up the walk of the modest one-story home.

They were almost there when Kyle grabbed Garrett’s shoulders andappeared to be speaking very earnestly.

That didn’t last long.

Kyle bent over and threw up again, making enough of a racket to rouse his mother.

Emma sank deeper into the upholstery when a middle-aged woman appeared at the threshold. She began to shout at Garrett, gesturing at her inebriated son, raging visibly.

“Oh nooo!” Emma squeaked, covering her face.

But she peeked out from between her fingers, unable to stop watching the train wreck in progress.

At least Garrett wasn’t losing his temper in return. She wouldn’t blame him at this point. But he kept his cool despite being harangued by a woman wearing adult onesie pajamas.

Kyle staggered up the steps to interrupt his mother’s tirade. Whatever he said calmed his mother down. Garrett said a few words that seemed to mollify her further. Then they went inside.

“I’m sorry,” she burst out when he climbed into the car.

His face could have been carved from stone. “For what?” he asked in a silky voice.

Emma bit her lip. “She shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. It was my fault. She should be mad at me. You both should. I’m the one who let Kyle get drunk.”

“You think I’m upset because you let Kyle drink?” he asked, face still infuriatingly impassive. “Well, I’m not. You weren’t the one behind the bar serving Kyle booze all night so let’s forget it.”

“I can’t.”

Garrett getting yelled at for something that wasn’t his fault may have been the worst thing that happened tonight. “I should have gotten out of the car and explained the situation to Kyle’s mom. She already hates me anyway.”

This got his attention. Garrett turned away from the window. “Why? What’s her problem with you?”

“I’m not sure.” Emma had never been able to explain it. “She picks Kyle up sometimes and…”

“She took an instantdislike to you?”

Emma didn’t pout but it was pretty damn close. “Yeah. I’m not sure why.”

Because Bethany had been there too, being her extra-charming self. Yet it had been Emma Mrs. Channing had given the side-eye to.

“It’s not your fault,” Garrett assured her. “You’re…”

She waited but he didn’t seem inclined to continue. “I’m what?”

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