Page 60 of Cocky Choices: Zoe Cocker

Mr. Astor dials 911.

They answer instantly.

This is not one of those times you want them to.

The huge event space is empty, except for us, so we can all hear the dispatcher’s voice clearly as she says, “911. What’s your emergency?”

“This is Caleb Astor II! My son has just been assaulted! I need the police to the Four Seasons immediately.”

Caleb rubs his face. “Father. That’s not necessary.”

I step closer, feeling the urge to grab my future father-in-law’s phone and smash it with my foot. “Tom was just defending me, Mr. Astor!”

This makes Caleb glare at me. “Defending you? From what? My kiss?”

The words pour out before I can stop them. “From you!”

Reality is overwhelming.

I’m standing between two worlds.

I can feel it.

“He felt you were hurting me.”

Caleb asks, “What do you mean by that?” brows twisted in confusion.

But I can’t answer him.

I’m not sure how to explain it.

Mr. Astor’s phone disappears in his pocket. “They’re on their way.”

“Good,” Tom mutters. “I don’t regret it. I’d do it again.” Heat enflames my cheeks, a flush of embarrassment mixed with something else. Something thrilling. Tom’s stance is wide and defiant, anger etched into his features, a sharp contrast to the gentleness I usually see in him. “Zoe deserves better than an over-entitled snob like you, Caleb!”

Every word is a dagger aimed at my…fiancé.

I gulp, not knowing what to say.

“Better? You think you’rebetterthan me?” Caleb scoffs, voice dripping with disdain as he dusts off his form-fitting suit. “You’re just a delivery boy, Tom. You think you can play hero? You’re nothing.”

My heart sinks. Caleb’s words cut deeper than I want to admit, because I was raised to see wealth simply as a means of freedomso you can help others,not so you can talk down to them.

Tom growls, “Maybe I’m nothing?—”

I cry out, “—You’re not nothing!”

Tom’s glance flickers to me, then locks onto Caleb, “Maybe I don’t have the money you have but I would never talk down to Zoe.”

“I wasn’t talking down to her.”

I repeat, this time in a whisper, “You’re not nothing, Tom.”

Mr. Astor bellows, raising the tension, “I demand to know what is going on! Who are you?”

“I’m Zoe Cocker.”

He looks me up and down. “This is your fiancé. I would’ve thought a Cocker would be dressed more…”

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