Page 31 of Ice Cold Hearts

Liza’s mouth drops open. “I didn’t know.”

“Exactly,” I say gently, even though I’m seconds away from shaking her. “You assumed and might have cost me a vital contact. If she hasn’t left yet, I’m going to try and salvage things. Expect a receipt for dry cleaning or a new dress on your desk on Monday.”

She nods owlishly and lets me go, completely forgetting that she usually arranges those things for me and would have known about it. I feel a little guilty at taking advantage of her drunken state, but not guilty enough to stick around.

Getting rid of Liza so quickly is a good omen. Tonight is definitely turning around. The closer I get to the door, the more I’m convinced that as soon as I get outside, I’ll see Emily being comforted by Alexei and Ian. Then I’d swoop in and save the day with the promise of a brand-new dress. Or better yet, they’d all already be in the car waiting to laugh things off after another round of drinks. I was so sure of it that I bound out the front of the club with a smile on my face.

The grin drops from my face as I walk into a red-faced Emily tearing my teammates a new one.

Why did I think that one lucky break was a divine omen of positivity? Too many drinks is why. The other shoe always drops. Always.

I should have known I’d be walking into a catastrophe.

“Unreasonable?” she seethes. “You kept me from getting in the cab, and he threatened the cabbie to make him leave, and I’m being unreasonable? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Emily, talk to me, not him. Let me handle it,” Alexei demands.

“There’s nothing you can do to save him, so don’t even try,” she snarls then whirls back on Ian, “Please explain to me exactly how my being angry at someone who is basically holding me hostage is unreasonable. Go ahead. I fucking dare you.”

“Will you calm down and listen to me?” Ian snaps.

Alexei and I both cringe.

I can practically feel the rage rolling off her right now.

As usual, it’s up to me to fix it. I glance up the street and see the limo rounding the corner. Perfect timing, but how on earth am I going to get her to come with us now?

The idea hits me so fast I get whiplash. This is either going to fix everything or she’s never going to talk to any of us again.

Things can’t possibly get worse, so I might as well go for it.

“Ian, that’s no way to treat an angry woman. You know full well you have to recalibrate them when they’re angry,” I tease.

I turn toward Emily, meeting her scowl with my trademark lopsided grin. “And you, ma’am, promised us an entire date night. It’s barely eleven, and I refuse to allow any woman to leave a date more miserable than she started it. So, you are coming with me to the car and we’ll see if we can’t fix that attitude of yours?”

She puffs up like an angry cat and starts in on me. “Of all the misogynistic, sexist men in the world, you are by far–”

I don’t let her finish. Instead, I scoop her up, throw her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and start running for the car.

I’m relieved when the obscenities streaming from her mouth turn into laughter.

Just to be sure, I turn my head and ask, “You alright? Feeling better?”

“Absolutely not,” she declares.

I can hear the smile in her voice even if I can’t see it. I loosen my grip on her, not enough that she’s in danger of falling but enough to make her bounce against my shoulder more. We’re about fifty feet from the limo with Alexei and Ian hot on our heels, so I pick up the pace.

“What was that?” I ask. “I couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes,” she squeals. “I’m feeling better. Are you happy?”

I set her down gently next to the limo door and open it for her.

“I’d be happier if you said I’m the king of fixing bad dates and that you can’t wait to jump in my bed and thank me.” I grin.

“You are insufferable,” she says, halfheartedly swatting at me.

“That’s not a no,” I say, sliding into the car next to her.

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