Page 403 of Summer Heat
a wan smile. “So I guess I won’t get to have my Pretty Woman shopping moment with you.”
His hand closed tighter around hers. “I’ll stay home if you want.”
She shook her head vigorously. “No, don’t do that. You should go have a good time.” Wanting desperately to get some air, she stood up abruptly and looked around for a restroom.
He caught her by the elbow. “Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to say. I just can’t go. But I really, truly want you to have fun. Charities are important.” She patted his arm reassuringly. “And despite her kissing you and offering you a member massage in front of me, Victoria does seem kind of nice.”
“You’re not upset?”
“No,” she replied with complete honesty. “Just uncomfortable. Give me a few minutes to collect myself and I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll give you five.” He gazed at her worriedly. “If you’re not back by then, I’m coming after you and we’ll leave. We can go to that little Chinese restaurant you love so much.” A genuine smile lit his face then.
Alright, now she was upset. But not at him. At his world. At his father. At everything that kept Connor tethered to the toxic things that were poisoning his life.
She rushed off to the restroom, knowing Connor would make good on his offer to whisk her out of there if she showed him even a hint of the anger she was feeling. But she didn’t want to give his father the satisfaction. Even now, from where he sat across the room, Marcus Sullivan was visibly laughing at her discomfort in the most mocking, condescending way possible.
How a man like that managed to father two of the best men she’d ever known was a complete paradox.
Pulling open the ornate door to what was the most extravagant restroom she’d ever seen, Abby flipped on the water at the marble sink and stuck her wrists under the cold stream. Slowly, eventually, she felt some of her tension wash down the drain. She could do this. She wasn’t going to let Marcus win. She was going to go out there with her head high and have a great night.
And if she accidentally keyed his car enroute to her own, oh well.
She smiled wryly at her reflection, knowing she’d never in a million years ever do anything like that.
“You’re way too nice,” she accused her reflection.
Before her reflection had a chance to reply, the sound of small commotion outside had her scrambling to the door. Had her five minutes lapsed already?
“HEY!” she yelled, when she opened the door and saw that the racket out in the hall had nothing to do Connor at all, but rather, a very large man shoving around a very small woman.
The second she saw the man start to rear back his arm, Abby set off on a dead sprint.
“Leave her alone!” She rammed herself right into the man’s side, effectively budging him about two inches. He was a big man.
“What the hell?” The man swayed on his feet and glared at Abby. “Who the hell are you?”
She ignored him but kept one eye trained his way as she checked on the woman—good lord, she was tiny. The man could’ve snapped her like a twig. “Are you okay?”
The woman spewed out a long hysterical sentence.
In a foreign language.
Okay, that helped Abby not at all.
Sausage like fingers clamped onto her arm. “Hey, nosy bitch.” He spun her around like a top and Abby went flying against the wall. “Mind your own f—”
The loud crack of a fist connecting with his face stopped that f-bomb from landing.
Connor.
The man went down. But Connor wasn’t done. He laid in two more punches before Abby realized he was planning on beating the man to a pulp.
“Connor! Stop!”
He didn’t. And then all hell broke loose.
