Page 6 of Draco's Defiance
“Damn it.” She whispered the words under her breath, conscious of the way her breathing had sped up at the perceived threat. “I don’t know what to do. He’s going to come in here and then what?”
Should she order a coffee and hope he gave up and went away, or should she turn back and give him a piece of her mind? Which sounded like the best outcome? She couldn’t afford to offend the son of one of Jeffries most affluent clients, but maybe the time had come to throw in the towel and work elsewhere, regardless? Sure, money would be tight for a while, but it had to be better than living like this; taking all of the crap jobs that Jeffries male associates refused to do, being objectified while at work, and then feeling unsafe on the street.
Resentment flared in her chest. How dare Monroe do this! He had no right to trail her and make her feel this way. She was at her wit’s end with men like him who thought they could just—
“Fancy meeting you here.” Monroe’s smooth voice cut through her internal monologue, making her jump as she turned to see him waiting in the line behind her. “I didn’t know you came here for lunch.”
“I don’t usually.” Concentrating on calming her galloping heart, Moira glanced his way while still wrestling with her options. Could she put Monroe in his place without doing so much damage to her professional reputation that Jeffries would probably refuse to grant her the reference she deserved?
“What a coincidence.” The bastard smiled as he loomed over her.
“Isn’t it?” She couldn’t resist her disbelieving tone.
“Seems like we’re destined to have that lunch, after all?” Monroe’s smug reply invited an equally cutting one, but before she could respond, the person standing in line in front of her turned and butted in to the conversation.
“’Fraid not, Oliver.”
Both she and Monroe turned to acknowledge the newcomer, Moira’s brow furrowing as he went on.
“She’s meeting me.”
“What?” Monroe snapped. “Do I know you?”
Funny. She pulled in a breath as she examined the stranger’s face. I was just thinking the same thing myself.
Taking in his high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, and mop of blond hair, she knew she didn’t know him and though his intervention was unexpected, she’d never been more thankful. Whoever he was, he might just have either saved her from lunch with the awful Monroe, or from throwing her career aspirations down the toilet.
“Sure, you do.” The stranger grinned, revealing a row of near-perfect teeth as his gaze shifted quickly from Oliver to her, and then back again. “You definitely know my brothers. Balthazar and Sebastian always speak highly of you.”
“Vaughn.” Monroe growled the accusation, the resonance of his tone ballooning the anxiety already whipping around her body. “You’re another bloody Vaughn!”
She’d never heard a noise as primal and terrifying as that before, the sound suggesting that all of her gut reactions to Monroe had been spot on. He was not the kind of person she wanted to spend any time with.
“There you go.” The stranger smiled with triumph. “I told you that you knew me.”
“You’re seriously telling me that Moira’s here to meet you?” Monroe scoffed, his gaze narrowing as he glanced between them.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” The unknown blond feigned offense, but she noticed as his gaze darkened. “But if you like, we can take this outside and clarify our beliefs.”
He hadn’t said so, but she had the distinct impression that the stranger was inferring violence to make his point.
“Really?” Monroe ignored him, his demanding stare landing squarely on Moira. “You expect me to believe this?”
“You can believe what you like, Mr. Monroe.” The relief washing over her mingled with her resurfacing irritation. Monroe had no right to put her in this position. No job—not even a brilliant one—was worth all of this hassle. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m meeting Mr. Vaughn on my lunch break.”
She turned physically toward the blond guy, blocking out Monroe’s no doubt horrified expression.
“Can I get you a coffee?” The corners of the stranger’s lips curled as he signaled toward the menu. “You can grab us a table.”
“Thanks, but I’m actually really hungry.” Playing along with his feigned interest, she quickly scanned the menu. “I’d love a sandwich, as well.”
“Okay.” Her unknown hero sounded amused at the request but didn’t refute her suggestion. “Let me know what you’d like, and I’ll get right on it.”
“Fuck this!” Banging his fist down upon the counter, Monroe scowled as he pointed his finger in Moira’s direction. “You’re fooling no one with this charade, and he can’t protect you forever.” Monroe signaled at the stranger.
“Is that a threat?” Buoyed by the sudden feeling of safety, Moira took a step toward him. “Because I don’t like your tone, Monroe.”
“Is that right?” His brow rose at her response. Evidently, he hadn’t seen her resistance coming.