Page 9 of Rush
“Margaret!”
They burst into fits of giggles, and it was all I could do not to go back out there and flip the table over. Imagining the impossible stains Margaret’s white Dior would suffer, I smirked to myself.
“I only work half as much as she does, and I’m twice as successful,” Margaret went on. “I don’t know what she’s doing, but it’s not her fiancé.Oh, sorry. Ex-fiancé.”
She knew, and she didn’t say anything.The bitch. It hurt, but I wasn’t surprised in the least. That was what was so disappointing about it. I was the one who’d been wronged, but it seemed I was copping all the punishment.
I knew I should’ve marched back to the table and told them to stick their two-faced friendship up their asses, but I didn’t.
All I did was walk toward them, smile weakly, and pick up my handbag. I just couldn’t deal with the nuclear fallout if I dared to dissent because that was what would happen. I’d sat across from Margaret at enough of these brunches and listened to her vitriol to know I would be next on the hit list the moment I called her out.
Best to bow out gracefully while I still had control of myself.
“Are you leaving us already?” Margaret asked, her voice sickly sweet.
“I have to get back to work,” I replied, fishing around the chaos inside my bag, looking for my phone. I didn’t really need it, but anything not to look her in the eye.
“Oh, that’s a shame!” she exclaimed. “On a Saturday?”
“International client,” I muttered. “I’ll see you all later.” Flashing a fake smile, I turned and strode across the restaurant, well aware the vultures were staring after me.
Outside, I glanced through the window and watched Belinda and Heather laugh at something Margaret had said. Focusing on my reflection, I smoothed my fingers through my curls and sighed.
I didn’t think it was possible to feel like this. So broken and alone. They were the picture of perfection with their designer clothes, flawless makeup, and two-hundred-dollar haircuts. But the longer I stared, the more I wondered if all of that was just a shell and underneath… I didn’t want to know what was under there. Probably the Bog of Eternal Stench from my favorite childhood movie,Labyrinth.
Turning, I wandered down the footpath, making a beeline for the nearest department store. It looked like I would need a lot more concealer before things got any better.
And chocolate. Maybe I should get some of that, too.
4
Ryan
“Oof.”
Cole’s fist smacked into the side of my head, and I stumbled.
“Watch what you’re doing,” Ash said sharply from the sidelines. “Don’t let him break through your defenses.”
Raising my fists, I bounced on my heels, keeping my body light and ready to strike.
Watching Cole’s shaved head, I attempted to decipher his tells. If I could anticipate where and when he was going to hit, then I would have a better chance at avoiding his strike and not have to waste energy blocking. Know thy enemy and all that.
If I’d known Hunter Ballinger was a cheating asshole back then, I would’ve been able to anticipate Jade’s future heartache and do something about it. I would’ve fought instead of walking away. Which was exactly what I’d done yesterday at the hotel.
Cole rammed his shoulder into my stomach and heaved. Before I knew what was happening, I was flat on my back, staring up at his ugly face.
“Bam!” he exclaimed, fist pumping the air. “Take down!”
Dazed, I groaned and rubbed my guts. Cole offered me his hand, I grasped his forearm, and he hauled me to my feet, slapping me on the back for good measure.
“Harper the untouchable flipped by Cole the usurper,” he said, talking about himself in the third person.
“Watch yourself, Alphonso,” I retorted.
“What did I tell you about using my first name?” Cole grumbled.
“Only in an emergency.”
