Noah grabbed one of the cloth napkins from the table, wiping up the mess and refusing to look at Alistair.
Now that the heat was fading, Noah didn’t know how to feel except awkward.
Ugh. And embarrassed.
He started to sit down, but Alistair clicked his tongue.
“You’re not done yet.” Alistair refilled Noah’s glass and took it for himself.
“Huh?”
“The glass you broke.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
Rage bubbled up inside of him, but Noah kept his mouth shut until he was certain no curse words would fly out. “Where am I supposed to get a broom?”
“Perhaps the kitchen.” Alistair sipped his wine with a smug little smirk.
“You want me to go in there?”
After that guy saw what you were doing to me…
“Yes. And you can let Jamie know we’re ready for dinner. Provided you can clean up in an orderly amount of time.” Alistair waved his hand. “Go on now.”
Noah all but stomped his feet, disgusted that he was being asked to sweep the floor of all fucking things, but he still went to the kitchen with Junior and Crybaby behind him.
He didn’t even look at them, and he wanted to punch Junior for laughing at him. They didn’t say anything at least, and Noah was happy to pretend they weren’t even there.
The kitchen was bustling with a short woman, Frida, cooking away across the stove and counters, and Jamie was doing his best to assist her.
He was surprised to see Noah and his entourage. “Oh! Can we help you, sir?”
“I need a broom,” Noah mumbled.
“What’s that?”
“I need a broom!” Noah nearly shouted.
“Oh, all right.” Jamie headed over to a closet, securing a broom and bringing it back to him.
“We’re ready for dinner now.” Noah snatched the broom from him and turned to leave, but he paused. “There’s probably no chance in hell you’d help me out of here since you were totally fine with him bending me over a table?”
“No, sir.” Jamie smiled.
“Right.”
“Nice try,” Crybaby said with a grin.
Noah grumbled the whole way back to the dining room, and he again refused to look at Alistair. He swept aggressively, trying to get all the broken pieces of glass together as quickly as he could.
“Slowly,” Alistair warned. “You’ll make a mess of the glass if you don’t.”
Noah tightened his grip on the broom handle, but he slowed down, making an orderly little pile.
“Why didn’t you wear anything red? Was it to spite me?”
