Page 74 of Cross My Heart
“Because their champagne is like a hundred pounds a bottle,” I point out.
“So?” Jia challenges me.
I take a deep breath. “So, we’ve already drunk plenty tonight. How about we just head home, stop at Ahmed’s for some of those chili-cheese-chips you love?”
“Are you saying I’m drunk?” Jia’s voice rises.
“No,” I try to calm her, but she gestures wildly.
“I can handle myself, you know. Maybe I’m not walking around with a stick up my arse, like the rest of your new friends, but that doesn’t mean—”
CRASH.
Jia's elbow catches some cocktails on the bar, sending them careening to the ground with a smash.
Head turn.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” I apologize to the guys who were standing right there. “She didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t apologize for me,” Jia snorts. She slides down from the barstool, unsteady on her feet. “And especially not tothem. Assholes,” she adds.
They scowl. “What did you just say?” one of them demands.
I look to Kris for help, and thankfully, he takes Jia’s arm. “Let’s go get some air,” he says, smoothly steering her to the door. “And ice cream.”
They disappear, leaving me alone with the scowling guys. They look like they want to start something—
Until Max Lancaster materializes at my side. “Everything alright?” he asks them cheerfully. “Let me take care of that. Kevin!” he gestures the bartender over. “Another round for these fine gentlemen. And a couple of glasses of your finest scotch, too. You have to try it. There’s no trouble here, is there?” he adds, giving the men a measured look.
They back off. “No trouble, cheers mate.”
“Anytime!”
I exhale in relief. “Thank you,” I mutter, when the guys move away with their fresh drinks. “My friend got kind of messy, then took off.”
“Leaving you to clean up the mess?” Max says, raising his eyebrows. “Some friend.”
I don’t reply. Max is dressed impeccably in fine wool pants and a button-down shirt, an expensive watch gleaming on his wrist, and his blonde hair perfectly tousled. He looks every inch the handsome playboy, and I can’t help wondering if Wren fell for his obvious charms.
He gestures for the bartender again. “I’ll take a glass of that scotch myself, now,” he says. “And a passionfruit martini.”
“Thanks, but I shouldn’t stay,” I say reluctantly. I’d love to subtly quiz Max some more about Wren, but exhaustion is hitting hard, and I know I need to stay sharp around him. “I need to be getting home.”
“It’s not for you,” Max replies, smiling. “Although, you’re welcome to join us…”
His gaze moves past me, and I follow it to a curvy brunette at a corner table. She’s poured into a figure-hugging dress, with sultry eye makeup.
She’s gorgeous—and definitelynothis fiancée, Annabelle.
“Oh,” I blurt, before I can stop myself. “OK.”
Max turns back to me. “Can I get you a cab?” he asks smoothly, showing absolutely no shame about being out on the town with some other woman.
“I’m good, thank you. And thanks again for stepping in there,” I add. “I really appreciate it.”
“Anything for a friend,” he says, stressing the word, just a little. “Discretion is the better part of valor, after all,” he adds with a wink, before taking his drinks to rejoin the brunette woman.
Maybe they’re just friends, I wonder, heading for the doors. Then I see Max slide in to join her, his hand resting on her hip, leaning in to whisper in her ear in a not-so-platonic way.