“Ex-wife,” Andrew corrected, clenching his fists together. The thought of pummeling that cocky bastard had settled in his gut. After all, he wasn’t her agent anymore. He might be able to get away with one uppercut—maybe two.
“You can have her,” Julius taunted. “She’s a fuckin’ bitch anyway. How does it feel to have my sloppy seconds?”
Before he knew it, Andrew had Julius’s neck in his hand and his head pressed against the table. The shot glasses he’d lined up perfectly were now shattered on the floor and water was dripping over the edge of the table. For good measure, he lifted Julius’s head and slammed it against the table again.
“Don’t think I won’t fuck you up in front of this entire bar,” Andrew growled. “If I ever hear you disrespect her again, I will come for you. Do yourself a favor. Get the hell out of here and stay away from her.” Without another word, he shoved the director toward the door. Hard.
And just like Andrew expected . . . That sorry bastard hightailed it out of the bar without looking back, and so did the man who was with him. After a moment, he grabbed several napkins off an adjacent table and started cleaning up.
Glancing at X, he said, “Don’t say one word.”
Xavier raised a questioning brow. “Is this what we’re doing now? Losing our temper in public?”
“I know you’re not talking. Weren’t you the one that threw Ethan Porter into a buffet table?”
X waved him off. “Yeah, I know. Another drink?”
Andrew laughed. “Sounds good to me.”
Xavier waved the waitress over. “By the way, it was a dessert table.”
“Same thing,” Andrew muttered.
“Not really, but whatever.”
The waitress came over and took their drink order. For the first time since he’d been fired, he felt better. Because he had hope that this wasn’t the end for them, that this would be just another storm they’d weather—together.
* * *
Paige awoke with a start, her heart pounding and her head hurting. Glancing around the room, she screamed when she spotted a figure in the doorway, watching her intently.
“Mom?” Paige took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm her nerves. “Oh my God, you scared me.” She fell back on her pillow.
“You need to be scared,” Tina retorted.
Paige’s eyes popped open. “What?” Her gaze followed her mother’s movement around the bedroom, watching as she inspected perfume bottles, read the back of a book, and even picked up her bra and tossed it in her hamper.
Turning to face her, her mother narrowed her eyes. “You heard me.”
Rolling over, Paige said, “Mom, I’m sleepy. Can we talk later?”
“Do you always sleep in full clothes?”
Paige groaned. “Yes.”No. But the alcohol she’d consumed last night had made it impossible to do anything but fall across the bed.No more dark liquor.
After Skye had left, Paige had poured out her wine and pulled out the bourbon. She wasn’t really a hard liquor person, but it started to taste good—after the second glass.Or was it the third?
“Get up, babe?” Tina yanked the thin sheet from her and gasped. “Oh Lord. Look at that hair. Just went to bed without a bonnet or a scarf. Good luck with those tangles.”
“Mom!” Paige shouted into the pillow. “You’re making my head hurt. I love you, but I need to sleep.”
“You can sleep when you fix your mess.”
Sighing, Paige sat up. “Who told you I made a mess?” She pushed her hair off her face. “Jax?”
After Andrew had left yesterday—before Paige had wilted under the pressure of the day and the ramifications of her hasty actions—she had sent a terse email to Pure Talent indicating that she’d fired Andrew.
“Jax did contact me, yes,” Tina admitted.
