“Right away, boss.” He disappears into the back.
Eric isnothere. So now it’s me, barely-an-adult-Charlie, and our audience of thirty-plus diners against a single blitzed idiot.
Without a bartender to harass, the belligerent man zeroes in on me. Ignoring the rest of his surroundings, he beelines straight for me and sticks his finger in my face.
“You.” He stumbles over nothing, smacking into his bar stool. “Get me a drink.”
Part of me wants to back away. I’m not small, but I’m also not as tall as this man, or nearly as strong. And I can’t depend on Charlie, that’s for damn sure.
But I hold my ground. I’m entirely too familiar with men who like to intimidate people weaker than them, and that type loves provoking a response. I’d rather knock myself out than show this guy the slightest hint of submission or fear.
He’s not the first belligerent man I’ve dealt with, and he won’t be the last.
I keep my eyes on the drunk while talking out of the side of my mouth. “Charlie, find Eric and call for backup.” I don’t know where the hell Eric’s gone—he should’ve already kicked this idiot out already—but he can get his ass here now.
As soon as Charlie’s left, I square my shoulders in the face of my newest problem.
I will handle this.
My head spins a little from the wine, but I do my best to imitate my father’s sternest expression. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”
“I don’t think so.” He glares at me. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I’m the manager of this hotel, and you’re disturbing our other guests?—”
“You’re nothing but a dumb little bitch!” His voice bounds through the restaurant as he grabs a glass from the bar and hurls it at my feet.
The silence that follows the outburst is broken only by the soft instrumental jazz playing through the speakers above the bar.
One drunken insult can’t hurt my feelings. But in front of all these people? In front of Kellin? Even from across the restaurant, I’m sure he heard that shout.
I glance away from the drunk for the first time and spot Kellin rounding the tables.
Icy picks of frustration dig into my chest.
No. He can’t see this.
What if Kellin doesn’t want to invest in a manager who’s incapable of dealing with a little problem? Doesn’t want to invest in a hotel that attracts assholes?
That attracts men—like my father and his goons—who disturb the peace I’ve worked so carefully to cultivate?
My hands clench at my sides, sharp nails driving into my palms. The wine in my stomach roils, making me nauseous.
I’m so close to achieving everything I want, but my escape from my father’s world dangles just out of reach, on a string held by the man currently watching my utter failure to contain an issue.
The plastered asshole is entirely ignorant of my turmoil. He’s still waving that stupid finger. The handful of people who were at the bar have abandoned their seats in favor of huddling together near the host stand as Phoebe attempts to calm them.
The drunk staggers toward me again. For someone so unsteady on his feet, he can, surprisingly, still walk in a straight line. “And I don’t care?—”
I invade his personal space, closing the remaining distance between us. “Enough. One more word out of you, and you’re leaving here in handcuffs. Is that what you want?”
His gaze drifts from my face and wanders over my shoulder. Before I can pivot to see what he’s looking at, he lunges.
With more speed than I’d expect from someone so wasted, he grabs me with his meaty hand. I try to free myself, wincing when his fingers lock around my arm with bruising force. The combination of shock and pain startles a whimper from me.
The next instant, the man releases me with a yelp, his nails scraping my skin as he’s hauled backward.
Finally. Security sure took their sweet time, but at least they?—
