The simmering rage returned, tightening all the muscles in my body.I stalked toward the wet bar at the edge of the room and reloaded my tray of flutes.With a deep breath, I began circulating the room again.
"Excuse me, darling."
I turned toward the voice, my practiced smile already in place, and found myself face-to-face with a man whose gut strained his expensive shirt.His eyes lingered on my chest longer than appropriate, making my skin crawl.
"Mr.Sampson," I read from his name tag."Champagne?"
"Don't mind if I do."He took a glass but didn't step back, instead moving closer."Wow.Look at you.”
I blinked.
“You know, you're far too pretty to be serving drinks.What's your name, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart.I wanted to dump the entire tray over his balding head.
"Clara," I managed, taking a step back."Please excuse me, I need to—"
"Clara."He rolled my name around his mouth like he was tasting it."Pretty name for a pretty girl.Tell me, Clara, what are you doing after this little party?"
"Working," I said firmly, trying to edge away.But he followed, his hand reaching out to brush my arm.
"Come now, don't be shy.A girl like you, working a job like this...hey, you know what I love about girls like you?More to hold onto.”His smile turned predatory.“I bet you could use some extra income.I've got a proposition for you."
My stomach turned."I'm not interested."
"You haven't even heard what I'm offering."His grip tightened around my arm like a vice."I have a penthouse not far from here.Very private.Very comfortable.And I can be very generous to girls who know how to...appreciate that comfort."
The champagne tray wobbled in my hands as panic shot through me.This wasn't the first time a man had made me this kind of offer, but usually I could deflect and move away.Sampson's grip was too tight, his smile too predatory.
"Let me go," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.I jerked my arm away from him, which caused one of the flutes to tip to the floor.The glass shattered and everything inside me stiffened.
"Don't be difficult, sweetheart.We both know what this is about."His voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned closer."I saw you checking your phone.Money troubles?I can solve those for you.One night, and you won't have to worry about—"
"She said let her go."
A deep voice cut through Sampson's proposition like a blade.Gritty, authoritative, familiar enough to make every nerve in my body light up like a live wire.
Nash Nightingale stepped into view, his ice-blue gaze locked on Sampson's hand wrapped around my arm.Even in my peripheral vision, I could see the dangerous stillness in his posture, the way his jaw had gone tight with barely controlled anger.
"Nash, come on."Sampson finally released my arm."I was just—"
"Harassing my staff during my company's new headquarters reception."The steadiness in Nash’s voice was controlled.Lethal, almost.Goosebumps erupted on my forearms and I couldn’t look away from his commanding presence."Which makes you both a guest in my building and a liability to my event."
I stood frozen between them, the champagne tray trembling in my hands as Nash's gaze flicked to me for just a moment.Recognition flashed in his eyes—subtle but unmistakable.
He remembered me.
"There's been a misunderstanding," Sampson tried again.
"No misunderstanding."Nash stepped closer, and even I could feel the intimidation radiating from his presence."Security will escort you out.Right now."
Sampson's face flushed red, but he wasn't stupid enough to argue with Nash Nightingale in his own building.He stormed away toward the elevators.
I finally released the breath I'd been holding, gripping the tray even tighter.
"Thank you," I whispered, not quite meeting Nash's eyes.
"Are you all right?"
