Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Holy shit.
“Sammy Baker, you’re a bitch! A home-wrecker!” the woman continues shouting at the top of her lungs, turning all of her attention to Sammy once again. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re a mother of two boys… What kind of example are you giving them by screwing around with someone else’s husband?”
“Hold on.” I step forward to stop this woman from pushing her anger onto the wrong person. “Leave her out of this.”
“Leave her out of this? She’s the one who is fucking my husband!”
“Um, no,” Sammy refutes steadily. “I am not having, and have not had, sex with your husband. We went out to dinner a few times, but I had no idea he was married.”
Sammy’s glare at Gavin could set the world on fire if it hit something flammable. As it is, it permanently sends a dozen nails into Gavin’s coffin.
“Carrie, I think we need to go outside and talk,” Gavin says, changing tactics, but his wife is too far gone.
“Are you kidding me, Gavin? Go outside? If we go outside, I’m stabbing you right on the sidewalk!”
At this point, there is no doubt in my mind that every person inside La Croisette can hear this conversation, and that suspicion is confirmed when Mo appears mere seconds later.
Gavin’s wife, though…well, she is too far gone with anger to do anything but keep yelling at the slimy prick she married.
“You asshole! You’re not even telling these women the truth? You’re just acting like you don’t have a wife and three daughters at home? You are such a piece of shit!”
“Uh…” Mo looks around the office with big eyes. “What am I missing? Is there a Jerry Springer episode being filmed back here?”
Instantly, Sammy moves from me to her boss, apology in her every feature. “Oh my God, Mo. I’m so sorry.”
Carrie slides up the sleeves of her sweater. “I’m going to kick your ass, you dickhead! Someone get their phone out and film this. Because I sure as shit want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.”
Mo’s eyes stretch wide, and at the sight of it, I know we’re long past letting this go on. I step up to order, “You two need to take this outside.”
“Yeah,” Mo agrees. “Either take this outside, or I’m calling the cops to remove you from my restaurant.” She looks at the angry woman, dropping her voice in a half whisper. “Though, if you want, I can try to get one of my staff to film your fight outside. I mean, I’m still going to have to call the cops, but yeah, that’s the best I can do.”
“Mo!” Sammy exclaims.
“What?” Mo just shrugs. “I mean, if I were in her shoes, I’d probably want some video footage of me kicking my husband’s ass too.”
Completely overwhelmed, Sammy scrubs a hand down her face, and I try my best to silently reassure her with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder while Carrie shoves Gavin out of the office and toward the exit doors of La Croisette.
When I came here to see Sammy tonight, I sure as hell didn’t expect to walk into this.
But I’m glad I did.
Because as of today, I finally know for a fact that Gavin Evans is not a fucking problem.
Night has filled the sky, and La Croissette is completely empty of patrons.
The lights are mostly off in the restaurant, and only the glow of one near the kitchen indicates that anyone is even inside.
After all the drama, Sammy went back to work, and I ran home to change out of my scrubs and into a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt.
She said she was fine, and I believed her. But nothing in this world could have stopped me from coming back here, to this bench out front, to wait for her to get off work so I could make sure of it myself.
The glass door swings open, Sammy’s sweet face downturned to the keys in her hand as she steps through it, and I climb to my feet.
She looks tired, and her hair is a little messy from a long shift, but damn, she still looks beautiful.
“Hey,” I greet softly, doing my best not to startle her. Her gaze nevertheless whips to mine.
“Noah?” she questions, her steps faltering a little. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting on you.”
“What? For how long?”
“Doesn’t matter.” I can’t stop myself from pulling her straight into my arms. “I had to see you again after what went on tonight.”
“But Noah, I said I was fi—”
“I know you were fine.” I smile. “But personally, I was a little shaken up.”
Her body shakes with a small giggle, and I hug her tighter.
“Are you okay?” I whisper into her hair.
“Yeah. I’m okay.” She pulls away a little, and my body misses her instantly. “But I am sorry, Noah.”