Page 9 of From That Moment

The bitch queen. The ice queen. The one that everybody thought probably went down on her knees to get where she was in her job. All the things they whispered about me and had for so many years. It all slid over my skin, and I became the Paris that others sneered at. The one they didn’t look down on because they didn’t do anything but fear and admire her.

“Prior,” I said, my voice smooth and silky.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” I said, embarrassment still acute. I knew he had to have seen it. I was good at hiding most things, but it was getting harder and harder to hide it all today.

“Do I need to go after him and hurt him?” he asked, his voice low.

We were standing at the edge of the tables near the wall, so people were now turned away, focusing on their dinners. Thank God.

“No, he’s not worth it. I’ll make sure that Myra knows that, too.”

He looked over my head, frowning. He’d cut his beard a bit and had smoothed back his hair since I saw him that morning. I couldn’t help but wonder why. He had always been handsome, but now he looked even more so.

I was losing my mind.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be. Another blind date to put in the trash. I should go, though.”

“I was heading to the bar for a drink. Join me?”

I shook my head. “I should call an Uber, and I’ve already had one drink.”

“Don’t let him win,” Prior said, his voice low.

I let out a sigh and took Prior’s elbow as we walked towards the bar.

“Hopefully, I left enough money for the waitress,” I whispered, looking over to where they were cleaning up the empty table. They hadn’t even brought our food.

Prior gestured towards the bartender as we took our seats and then helped me onto the bar stool.

“You didn’t see it, but that man—I’m not going to call him your date—the asshole put down a few more twenties. The waitress will be covered. And I’m pretty sure they didn’t even start on your food yet since this place takes like three hours to do anything,” he whispered under his breath, and I held back a laugh.

“So, what are we having?” the bartender asked as he put two cocktail napkins in front of us.

“A vodka gimlet? Gray Goose?”

“You’ve got it,” he said, looking at Prior.

“Make that two,” he said, and then the bartender was off, working on our order.

“You like gimlets?”

“I like Gray Goose. And whatever makes it easy for the bartender, I’m up for it. You okay getting home on your own?” he asked, studying my face.

I hated that he was so kind to me. That he had witnessed any of what had just happened.

“I’m fine, like always. Annoyed that I let him get under my skin, but whatever.”

“What did he do?”

“I don’t want to get into it, but let’s just say he knew Hazel’s ex.”

Prior’s gaze darkened, and his jaw tightened. Considering that his brothers had been shot because of that man, I didn’t blame Prior for the anger.

“You should have let me punch him.”