Page 7 of Something Tattered
Listening, I wanted to scream. We didn'thavea snack machine. And if they started tucking quarters into the guy's pants, a chair to the shin would be the least of their problems.
The stranger gave me a perplexed look. "A stripper?"
"Yeah," Derek called back. "The kind who shakes his thing and dances for money."
Thunderstruck, I didn't know what to say. But I did know one thing. If the floor opened up right now and swallowed me whole, I'd consider it a huge favor.
But unfortunately, the estate's foundation was one of the few things thatwasn'tfalling apart.
Stupidly, I tried to explain. "No, I didn't. Well, I mean, I did. But that's only because of my aunt, and she's not here." I shoved a hand through my hair. "Anyway, I'm so sorry. I feelreallyawful, so…"
"So," Derek called over me, "if you wanna make some extra cash, go ahead. We'll make it worth your while."
It was then that the stranger made his move – but not toward me, toward Derek.
In the blink of an eye, the guy was halfway around the table. Derek jumped to his feet, sending his own chair flying backward. By the time it slammed into the back wall, the stranger and Derek were standing chest-to-chest – and Derek hadn't even moved.
I felt myself swallow. The stranger was fast. Scary fast.
His muscles were bulging, and his fists were tight. He looked like he wanted to mangle something – Derek, in particular.
I couldn't exactly blame him. I wanted to mangle Derek, too.
Desperate to smooth things over, I leaned around Derek and told the guy, "He was only joking." My voice hardened. "Andhe'ssorry, too." I gave Derek a not-so-friendly tap to the shoulder. "Right?"
I couldn't see Derek's face, but I could see his posture just fine. He was anything but contrite. Sure enough, no apology came.
Well, that was helpful.
Around us, the room had fallen utterly silent. I glanced around. No one made a move – not to intervene, not to break the tension, not even to call for help.
As for the two interns, they were eying the stranger like he was the sexiest morsel they'd ever seen. The nearest one licked her lips and leaned forward, as if wanting a closer look.
Oh, for God's sake.
I spoke up. "Alrighty then." I forced a smile. "Let's just reschedule, okay? We'll give it another shot."
From the corner of my eye, I caught one of the interns pulling out her cell phone. She held it out, as if preparing to take a picture – of the guy, apparently.
I tried not to notice. "And next time," I continued, "we'll make sure it's a smaller group."
With no drooling interns. And definitely no Derek.
Again, I looked to the stranger. When our gazes met, I sucked in a quiet breath.
Wow.If I wasn't careful, those eyes – dark and intense beyond description – would be my undoing. In spite of everything else, I felt my lips part and my knees go weak.
Cripes.If I didn't get a grip, I'd be mopping up my own drool, too.
Hoping not to show it, I said, "So anyway, thanks for coming. But for now, I think you'd better go."
"Yeah," Derek said. "You heard her. Grab your shit, and get out."
What the hell?I wanted to scream in frustration.So much for a friendly resolution.
The guy gave Derek a long cold look. "Didn't you hear?" the stranger said. "I didn't bring any 'shit.'"
Something about that look made Derek take a small step backward. His voice rose. "Isaidthis meeting's over."
