Page 30 of Secrets in Love
Tears began to well as Christian tore his hand away and continued to scold me. But he was right—not about checking guys out, but about listening.
The sweet boy’s words reminded me of another…
I know you can look after yourself. You can do anything you want once you set your mind to it.
When I call or message you and ask about my number-one girl, as much as I adore her, I’m not asking about Iris. I’m asking about you.
The scantily clad bodies, drinking and drugging, flaunting their wealth and prestige on Christian’s Instagram flashed before my eyes. Sure, he may have had the wealth, but this guy had about as much class as my little finger.
Fuck this.
“Christian, are you always so condescending toward women, or is it just me?”
“I beg your pardon?” He scoffed, almost choking on his hoity-toity twenty-dollar water when I threw my napkin on the table and stood.
“Evie, please sit down. This isn’t the local McDonald’s. You can’t just act like a child.”
I stepped to Not-HotBoss’s side, leaned down, and breathily whispered, “Then stop treating me like one.” Without warning, Christian aggressively pushed out from the table, grabbed my wrist, and squeezed—hard. The clang of his chair crashing to the floor caused dropping jaws and drew every set of eyes in the building. “Do you know how lucky you are to be here with me? Can you wrap your feeble mind around how many other little dancing wannabes I could have chosen?”
His grip tightened and sparked further fight in me. If he expected me to cower, he’d picked the wrong girl. “You are hurting me, Christian. Let go,” I growled through gritted teeth.
“No. You will not leave me here like a fool. You will sit down and behave. If you do, and you’re lucky, I might forgive you, then take you home and show you just how lucky you are.” He squeezed harder again, pulled my lips onto his, and began to push me into my chair as he kissed me. God, he tasted awful, bitter, and sweaty.
Vomit rose in my throat. Tears stung my eyes, but there was no way in hell I would let him see them.
No way in hell!
I struggled, eking just enough space to stomp on his foot and pull my body from his grasp. “Let go of me, you asshole, or I will scream this fucking place down in five seconds flat.”
Before I could do that, our cute and giggly waitress was joined by a big guy in a chef’s jacket. “Excuse me, Mr. Alarie, but is there a problem here?”
Christian flushed red, whisked a twenty from his pocket and tried to shove it in chef-guy’s hand. “No, no, not at all. My date is just a little intimidated by her surroundings. It’s a little bit out of her class, you see.”
“Oh, you’re mistaken, Mr. Alarie. I believe you are the problem. Some of the other guests and staff are offended by your manner. We don’t condone physical intimidation on our premises, and I would ask, if you don’t mind, that you please leave.”
“Me? You’re kicking me out? What about Bindi Irwin over here? She’s the fish out of water.”
Chef guy closed in, towering over Christian and looking down on him like the bug he was. “That’s quite enough, sir. I have asked politely. Now, please leave before I call the police.”
“Fine. This place is a shithole anyway.” Turning to me, he scowled and shook his head. “I’m done slumming it for the night. You can find your own way home. And don’t bother coming back to the studio. You and that klutz niece of yours aren’t welcome.”
Adrenaline coursed through me. I was torn between running and hiding or chasing him down and kicking his ass. But before I could do either, two strong hands landed on my shoulders. “We’ve got you, ma’am. Come with us.” It was only then that I realized I was crouching on the floor. The waitress, Pria, took my trembling hand and kindly ushered me out of the whisper-filled main dining space, through the bustling, steam-filled kitchen, and into a staff rest area. For twenty minutes, I sat in silence, regrouping, hiding. Alternating between shame and pride, smelling cumin, star anise, and cloves. Pria kept me dosed up with affection and unlimited desserts, and when I had my fill of almond kulfi, I called Jocelyn. Thankfully, as soon as she heard my voice, she sent a town car with little to no questioning.
Carrying a month’s worth of takeout, I was again escorted from the building, bundled into a black Escalade, and whisked away.
I may have been surrounded by bumper-to-bumper traffic in the most densely populated borough of New York City, but I’d never felt more alone. Or stupid. Naive too. The long-held insecurities that plagued and held me back surged. Was Christian right? Had I ruined my chance?
Unable to hold it in a second longer, the tears I’d stubbornly denied burst free. And as always, just when I needed him the most, Nate’s name flashed onto the screen of my phone.
“Nate. He grabbed my arm, and forced a kiss, and pushed me, and…and…I am such an idiot.”
“What the fuck, Evie! Slow down. Are you safe? Where are you?”
I did not slow down.
“I’m okay. I was in Soho. Jocie sent a car, and I’m on the way home. I can’t believe I let this happen. When he first asked me out, he was so sweet, charming, kind, and dorky. Oh, and he bought me Tim Tams too. But as soon as we went for coffee the first time, it was clear that he was a snob. But he is so great with the kids and so handsome and sophisticated…I just couldn’t see it. God, I’m so dumb and naive and desperate that I ignored all the warning signs and was completely swayed by a man that bought me chocolate, and now I’ve lost the first job I’ve had in years.”
“Jesus, Gidge. Stop right there. You are not an idiot, dumb, blind, or stupid. He is a prick. He is at fault here, not you. As for the job, who wants to work for that asshole anyway.”
