Page 8 of Counterfeit Connection

“You’re starting to sound like my father.”

“Bugger off. You’re on this trip to sort his demands. How long do you think the list will be if you screw this deal up?”

“That old fucker is being an ass to her and she’s taking it.”

“Mate, she took shit from you too. Like a champ, I may add. I know she’s completely your type, but in case you can’t tell, she’s not impressed with you.”

“I’ve barely spoken to her. You can’t possibly know that yet.”

“Griff, if there is one thing I know, almost better than anything else, it’s women, and that woman is not impressed at all.”

I glance back over to the table with that old asshole. Just as Kaitlyn places a drink in front of him, he takes a drink then instantly pulls a disgusted face, as if she presented him with dirty dishwater in a glass.

For the first time, he raises his voice loud enough for myself and the entire dining room to hear. “Do you need to have your ears cleaned, lady?” he says, pointing a finger at her. “I clearly said I didn’t want…”

I don’t even hear what his complaint is because I’m on my feet the instant he shoves that pudgy finger into her face. I catch the eyes of the owner as I brush past him to offer my assistance. Gently, I surprise Kaitlyn at her side by taking her wrist with my fingers. The scent of her perfume and hair washes over me, momentarily pausing my mission from taking this man out in public.

“Not only do you owe theladyan apology, but the entire dining room. I suggest you find your words carefully and quickly.”

“Who are you? The polite police? This girl couldn’t even get the vintage right.”

My proper manners disintegrate into a growl kept only for a bar fight. “So, I suppose you think speaking to her in any manner other than civil society would demand, will gain you anything? The ladydeservesan apology. Iwon’task again.”

Kaitlyn gasps and rips her wrist out of my grasp. “Are you insane?” she whispers with wide eyes. “I don’t need you to waltz over here and defend me like I’m some helpless maiden.” She leans around me, grabbing the man’s drink from the table but doesn’t say a single word to him before she tries to walk away from the table. I follow close behind.

“He deserved to have his attitude corrected,” I whisper back, as she whirls around to face me.

“Just because you obviously have money and a fancy suit doesn’t mean you get to walk in here, be just as rude as him to me, then try to step up as some kind of knight in shining armor. I’m a big girl. I don’t need help.”

“What? No, I wasn’t—”

She holds her hands up, effectively silencing me. “Stop.” She turns back around, walking quickly around the corner into the employees only area. I stop short because following her in would only make me seem a bit more insane than I already look.

I wait for a moment, then glance over my shoulder and see Tobias back at our table looking incredibly confused, so I make my way back over and sink down into my chair.

“What the hell was that?” Tobias asks.

“He was being an arsehole to her. I couldn’t just sit here and let it happen.”

He shakes his head and laughs, lifting his glass for another drink. “Always trying to be a hero.”

A few moments later, our tablemates return and a brand-new server comes to bring us the bill. I pull out my black card, handing it over to her without saying anything.

I don’t see Kaitlyn again until we’re gathering our belongings to leave. She bolts out of the back area and through the front doors. She meets my eyes for a split second before she accidentally shoulder checks the paparazzi, waiting for me to leave, and slips into the back of a yellow taxicab.

Chapter 4

Kaitlyn

By the time I step through the door of my apartment, I feel somehow a bit more angered by what happened, but also embarrassed by my reaction.

I’m upset the situation even made it that far, but I didn’t have to snap at him the way I did. However, by the same token, he shouldn’t have tried to step in like some accent-having, suit-wearing superhero trying to save a damsel in distress.

I wasn’t in distress and I’m not a damsel.

The shower is good for so many things. It can be a place to cry it out if you need to without anyone noticing. It can be a place to sing Linkin Park at the top of your lungs thinking you're Chester. It can be a place to soothe away the day. Or, it can be all of the above. Today was an all of the above moment.

With my towel wrapped tightly across my chest, I begin brushing my wet hair with the music still blaring in the bathroom, that is until my speaker tells me I have an incoming phone call. I grip the edges of my vanity before looking over to see who it is. I’m in such a mood, I’ll likely only answer for a select few. When I see my sister’s face shining brightly, I know this is a call I’m going to answer, but absolutely deflect off anything having to do with me.

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