Page 35 of My Real Love Affair

My blood started to simmer.

“She probably thinks dating a Bancroft will fix her reputation.”

“Desperate if you ask me,” another said.

“Austin,” Melody said quietly, her hand reaching across the table to touch mine. “Don’t.”

“They’re talking about you.”

“I know. Just ignore them.”

“Like hell.” I started to stand, but her grip on my hand tightened.

“Please.” Her eyes were pleading. “If you make a scene, it’ll just make everything worse. They’ll post about it. Say I’m difficult. That I can’t handle criticism. There will be rumors I had my rich boyfriend throw them out of a restaurant. It’s part of the package deal when you put yourself on the internet. It’s not always going to be sunshine and roses.”

Every muscle in my body wanted to march over there and tell those women exactly what I thought of them. But Melody was right. Anything I did would just make this worse for her. I knew what it was like to be the one people talked about.

So I did something else instead. I caught our waiter’s attention and gestured him over.

“See that table? The four women?” I pulled out my wallet and handed him my black card. “Whatever they order tonight is on me. Dinner, drinks, dessert. Everything. Don’t tell them until they ask for the check.”

The waiter’s eyes widened. “Sir, are you sure?”

“Positive.” I smiled but it wasn’t pleasant. “And bring them a bottle of your best champagne. Tell them it’s compliments of Austin Bancroft.”

“Right away, sir.”

Melody stared at me. “What are you doing?”

“Killing them with kindness. They want to talk shit about you? Fine. But they can do it while drinking champagne I paid for. Takes away some of the satisfaction, doesn’t it?”

“Austin—”

“Plus, when they inevitably post about this—because trust me, they will—the narrative becomes Austin Bancroft is such a gentleman, instead of talking shit about you.”

I watched the realization dawn on her face. Watched her see the chess move for what it was.

“That’s actually brilliant,” she said.

“I have my moments.” I squeezed her hand, which I realized I was still holding. “No one gets to make you feel like shit on my watch. Especially not when you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You barely know me. Why do you care so much?”

Because watching someone hurt you makes me want to burn the world down.Because in less than twenty-four hours you’ve gotten under my skin in a way I can’t explain.

But I couldn’t say that. That wasn’t part of the plan.

“Because you deserve better than this. And because I’m about to ask you for a favor, and I need you to know I’m serious about helping you.”

She pulled her hand back slowly. “What kind of favor?”

The waiter delivered the champagne to the women’s table with a flourish. I watched their confused faces turn to shock as he explained where it came from.

One of them looked over at our table. I raised my wine glass in a small salute.

They didn’t know how to react. Perfect.

“Austin,” Melody prompted. “What favor?”