Page 15 of Tempt Our Fate
It isn’t.
He just called Pippa stupid in multiple different ways, and he thinks everything is cool? Absolutely pathetic.
“Camden, it’s fine,” Pippa insists from my side. “I can go.”
I don’t even give an answer. There’s no way in hell she’s going anywhere when she’s done nothing wrong.
“Jason, don’t make any more of a scene than you already have. You can leave, or I can make you leave, which would make me very, very upset because I don’t like drama or theatrics.”
“You’re going to defend a server over me? I’ve been friends with your father since before you were born.”
I hate the feeling of all eyes on us. I’ve never been one who enjoys attention. It reminds me of when I was a child and my parents would parade me around to all of their friends—some of whom are in the room right now—and then discard me the moment the doors were shut. It made me hate the attention because I caught on at a young age that I was being used. I don’t like being used.
“It’s a great thing I don’t give a shit about that.” My jaw tenses. This conversation is already far longer than it was supposed to be. Tonight was supposed to be about the art, about bringing luxury art somewhere new. Jason’s narcissism and egotistical personality fucked that up.
“But I’m not the one who—”
“Go,” I interrupt, my voice booming because my patience is wearing thin.
He and I stare at one another. It’s like he’s trying to figure out if I’m being serious or not. It’s a stupid mistake of his. He’s been around all thirty-six years of my life. He should know by now that I mean what I say.
It’s comical now that the men surrounding Jason all pretend they don’t know him now. He looks to them for help, but they say nothing. They’re all cowards. The only person here brave enough to speak for themselves is the woman trying to pull out of my grip.
“This is a mistake,” Jason rants.
I click my tongue, cocking my head as I stare him down. “No, the mistake was inviting you.”
He finally gains enough common sense to leave. But not without stomping his way out, acting far too childish for a man who has grandchildren.
The moment he’s gone, I look at the guests around us. I fake a smile, even though my body hums with rage.
“Now that that’s handled, let’s get back to the reason you’re here. The pieces are flying off the walls, so if you see something you’re interested in, make sure to find an employee to help you purchase it.”
The group of people milling around us begins to chatter, but I don’t listen to them at all. I’m already busy pulling Pippa through the group of people until we’re safely out of sight in my back office. The door slams behind me, shaking the walls of the old building.
The door is barely shut before I’m pushing Pippa against it, my eyes roaming over her body. “Did he hurt you?”
She shoves against my chest. “What? Get away from me, asshole.”
My vision begins to clear as I regain a sense of reality and no longer see red. “Did he hurt you?” I repeat, backing away from her until I bump against my desk. I undo the button of my jacket, placing my hands safely in my pockets as I wait for her to answer.
“No, of course not. He was just being a demeaning prick.”
“He’s an asshole.”
She laughs. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“What happened?” I was busy selling one of Margo’s—Beck’s wife—pieces for the highest price one of her pieces has ever sold for when I heard the commotion from across the room.
Maybe costing me the sale, I left Jared Stingmore and his wife immediately to go see what was happening. I’d gotten close enough to hear Jason call Pippa a stupid bitch when I started to see red. When he called her worthless, I was moments away from grabbing onto his collar and dragging him out by his neck to prove who the worthless human in the scenario was.
Pippa glares at me as I stare at her right back. Her chest heaves with angry breaths. Mine does, too. The problem is she looks at me likeI’mthe one who’s done something wrong.
“I didn’t need your help. I had it handled,” she snaps, completely ignoring my question.
I chuckle under my breath because while she was handling it, he wouldn’t have left until I told him to. And even when I did, he argued. “Sure you did, shortcake.”
A loud, aggravated noise comes from her throat. It’s something between a growl and a shriek. “Stop calling me that!”