Thankfully, unlike Cameron, he had restraint.
Cameron was gone before I could process what had happened, practically running for the door.
I stood slowly, my hands trembling with fury. "How dare you."
"Ivy. Really?" He arched a brow at me, knowing exactly what I'd been here for, and it infuriated me. Or did he think I was here for the free meal? Bastard.
My palm connected with his cheek, and the slap echoed through the restaurant.
Eric's head barely moved. He took it, his jaw tightening, but he didn't react beyond that.
"How dare you," I repeated, my voice shaking. "Insinuate that I'm—that I would?—"
"That wasn't what I meant."
"Then what the fuck did you mean, Eric?" I grabbed my purse, vaguely aware that other diners were staring.
Was he correct? Yes. But fuck him anyway.
"I wanted a meal. Some fun. I can pay my own damn way. I don't need you or anyone else telling me what I can and can't do."
"I know." He reached for my arm but stopped himself. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong. Can we please just talk?"
"No."
I pushed past him, heading for the exit. My eyes burned, and I refused to let him see me cry.
"Ma'am, ma'am!"
I whirled on the waiter, who flinched, looking like they feared being struck.
"The bill," they mumbled, and I huffed. Of course Cameron bailed on the bill. Perfect.
"I've got it." Eric was quick to pull out a few hundred-dollar bills. "Keep the change, for the commotion."
Right. The commotion he caused.
I rolled my eyes and continued storming out, Eric right on my heels.
"Ivy."
"Fuck off, Eric. Leave my life, you're good at that!" I snapped over my shoulder as I stalked to my car, refusing to glance back at him.
"Ivy, please, let's just talk."
"Shove it up your arse, mate!" I shot back in my best British accent. It was enough to make him falter.
Was I being erratic and childish. Yes. But I was done with him and his stupid accent, stupidly perfect face, stupid gentleman behavior.
He needed to get bent.
I unlocked my car and climbed in, starting the engine and ignoring Eric outside. I reversed and pulled out, unwilling to even look at him as I got out on the road.
Why was he getting involved? Why was he here? Why was this hurting me so much?
I stopped at a set of lights and fumbled for my phone, my fingers clumsy as I pulled up Elena's number.
She answered on the second ring over the Bluetooth. "Hey, how was?—"
