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“Oh,” she squeaks. “There you are. I was coming to check on you.”

Ariel blushes in my arms. “Sorry, Bethanne, we were talking.”

Bethanne presses her lips together. “Mhmm.” She holds out a black bag. Ariel takes it from her. “I brought your purse. I’ll let you get back totalking.”

I chuckle at their exchange. Suddenly, Houston appears behind Bethanne in the doorway. He takes in our close proximity and my hand placement. His lip curls.

I step back from Ariel and adjust the cuffs of my jacket.

“Did you have something to say?” I ask him with a hard glare.

“I was just thinking that it’s the kind of behavior I expect from Ariel. Very classy.” He smirks.

“Coming from the epitome of etiquette himself.” I take a step toward him. “Why don’t we head outside? We can discuss howclassyit was of you to harass my girlfriend at work.”

He uses Bethanne to block me, going so far as to move her by her shoulders. I didn’t think her eyes could get any wider, but they do.

I’m about to suggest for Bethanne to move when Houston gets yanked back by the collar of his too-tight shirt. He makes a strangled choking sound as he stumbles. A man who looks like he could be one of the football linemen I represent stares down at Houston with murder in his eyes.

“Did I see you touch my wife?” he growls.

Ariel steps beside me to watch the show. I wrap a protective arm around her. Meanwhile, Bethanne is propping open the door by swooning into it.

“I–she–he–” Houston stutters out. His face is red as the wine being poured nearby.

The eyes of the entire ballroom are on the two of them. Even the servers have paused, plates of chocolate cake suspended in the air, as they stare.

“Will he get arrested if he punches him?” Ariel murmurs next to me.

“Maybe. Houston would probably be too scared to press charges though.”

“I don’t know about that. He has so much audacity he’d hire a lawyer and try to accuse everyone present of being accomplices.”

I chuckle under my breath. “You might be right. I know some good lawyers if the guy needs one.”

“Did you, or did you not, lay your hands on my wife?” the large man growls.

“I did,” Houston whimpers. Bethanne’s husband raises his fist. “I’m sorry, please, don’t hit me!”

“Dominic, wait,” Bethanne calls out in a breathless tone. Her husband freezes. “He didn’t hurt me. He’s not worth the trouble.”

Dominic lowers his fist. “Are you sure, princess? He looks like he could use a black eye or two.”

Houston trembles.

Bethanne walks to Dominic. I catch the door to keep it from falling shut. She places a dainty hand on his arm. “I’m sure. Let’s just go.”

Dominic grunts and throws Houston to the ground so hard he slides a few feet away. Bethanne snuggles into Dominic’s side, and they walk toward an exit on the opposite side of the room. She gives us a little wave on her way out, which Ariel returns.

“I was really hoping he was going to punch him,” Ariel says, sounding disappointed.

“I can make it happen,” I offer.

She sighs. “No, Bethanne is right. He’s not worth it. I mean, look at him.” She gestures to Houston, who’s now curled in the fetal position on the floor.

The occupants of the ballroom awkwardly turn back to their tables. No one goes to check on him. He must be as well-liked by everyone else as he is by Ariel.

“I have a feeling he’s not going to be bothering anyone anymore,” Ariel says, then looks up at me. “Now that he’s taken care of, do you want to get out of here?”