Page 30 of Built to Last
“It’s new,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“Ah, I see.” He smiles smugly and I notice Angelica frowning as she looks between the two of us. “Did you know Rose fancies herself an artist?”
“She is an artist,” Phillip states blankly.
“Oh, come on Rose, tell the man the truth. You can’t start a relationship based on lies,” he tells me with a condescending smile that makes me want to throat-punch him. Discreetly, I practice making a fist under the table, trying to remember if your thumb is supposed to go on the inside of the fist or outside when you hit someone. Ah, outside it is. Not that I’ll actually do it, but imagining taking a swing at Malcolmismaking me feel better. He turns to Phillip, gleefully informing him, “It’s been months since Rose here has sold a painting. She’s hardly fit to call herself an artist.”
“That’s enough,” Phillip snaps.
“See, Rose, the truth always comes out eventually.”
“No. That’s enough out ofyou,” Phillip growls, glaring at Malcolm. “Rose is an incredibly talented artist who happens to be taking a break right now so she can work on a project to help out a friend.”
Malcolm snorts. “Not that silly little princess thing? Really, Rose?” he asks, sounding more like a disappointed parent than an ex-boyfriend.
“Just stop,” I command, voice firm but low enough not to cause a scene. “My life is no longer your business. You stopped being entitled to any say in it the moment I broke up with you. I only wish it hadn’t taken me so long. And it’s not a ‘silly little princess thing’. Aria runs her own business, which is more than I can say for you.” I look him up and down disdainfully. “It’s time for you to leave. Phillip and I were having a lovely evening and I won’t let you spoil any more of it.”
Adrenaline courses through my veins, making me feel giddy. I’ve never stood up to Malcolm like this before. Not even when I ended things. His face is flushed bright red and he huffs out an indignant breath before grabbing Angelica by the arm and tugging her forward.
“Come on, we’re leaving.” But Angelica doesn’t move. Instead, the petite woman digs in her heels and tilts her chin up at him stubbornly.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous.” He tugs at her arm again and she yanks it free. There are a few eyes on our group now which only riles Malcolm up even further. “I’m not going to stay here and let her talk to me that way.”
Angelica raises an incredulous brow. “From what I’ve seen, you deserved that and more. We’re done, Malcolm. You should go, I’ll have the restaurant call me a taxi.”
“You can’t be serious?” he splutters. “You’re breaking up with me because of her? She’s trying to wind me up and cause problems on purpose because she’s jealous that we’re happy.” He sneers in my direction and I fight the urge to shrink back at the malice in his eyes. I’m done hiding from men like him. Never again. “Don’t let her ruin this.”
“No,” Angelica begins calmly. “I’m ending things because tonight you’ve shown me who you really are, and I want nothing to do with it. Go home Malcolm and don’t call me.”
“You little bitch, you think you’re better than me now, is that it?” He takes a menacing step forward, but before he’s able to unleash any more of his vitriol the host steps between the pair.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he states firmly. Malcolm’s head whips around and he flushes an even deeper shade of crimson when he notices most of the diners are now watching the spectacle he’s making of himself.
“Fine. But don’t think I’ll ever come back here.” With that he storms out.
“I should hope not,” the host mutters under his breath before turning to look at Angelica with kind eyes. “Would you like me to call a car for you, Miss?”
“That would be great.”
“Please follow me to the bar and I’ll get that taken care of.”
She sighs in relief then turns towards me. “I’m sorry about?—”
“You don’t need to apologise for that dickhead’s behaviour.” I wave her off and she stands a little taller.
“You’re right.” She nods once. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” I watch as she follows the host over to the bar, glad it looks like she’ll be OK.
“Well, that was an eventful start to the night,” Phillip jokes, chasing away the last of the unpleasantness. “Are you alright?”
“I feel pretty good actually,” I reply, surprise colouring my tone. “In a way, I think I needed that—to know I can stand up for myself when it matters.”
“You were brilliant.” He smiles and I’m unable to hold back my answering grin.
“Thank you.”
“Have you always been close with your brother?” I ask, toying with the stem of my wineglass. Discounting the earlier drama, it’s been a relaxed evening full of wonderful food and conversation. We each had a starter of figs and goats’ cheese and I chose the aubergine parmigiana for my main.
