Trouble

He has the nerve to walk right up to our table with a busty brunette on his arm. “Well, hello, Sly. Funny seeing you here.”

My girl sits up straight at once, flashing a bold grin. “How’s it going, Elliot? Nadine?”

The woman on his arm wrinkles her nose when she tries to smile. “Joselyn.”

I do a quick take from her to Joselyn to the guy, and I quickly read the situation. He’s being an ass, Joselyn is cringing, and this Nadine chick is threatened.

“Sorry,” I stand, extending a hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Spencer Carrollton.”

The idiot looks down at my hand like I’ve offered him a dead fish. “So you’re the new guy.” It’s not a question. “You should know she makes a habit of moving in with a new rich guy after only a few weeks.”

My extended hand turns into a fist, which I quickly lower to my side. “You’re Elliot, is it? I’ve heard you make a habit of banging your secretaries and being an all-around douchebag.”

Nadine’s jaw drops, but the idiot has the balls to get offended.

“People don’t talk to me that way.”

“Is that so?” I look down on this little man. “From what I understand, no one should talk to you, but if they do, they should only use small words.”

Joselyn’s fingers fan over her full lips to hide her smile, and the bimbo jerks the idiot’s arm.

“You’re not going to let him talk to you that way?” She does a little sniff, and Elliot’s face turns pink.

“You take that back!” He sounds like a child on the playground.

I might feel sorry for him if he hadn’t insulted my girl. “You preyed on Joselyn, convinced her you cared about her, and then cheated on her. If anyone deserves an apology, it’s her.”

“I’ll never—” I quickly step forward, catching him by the front of his shirt.

“You’ve got two seconds to apologize or you’ll wish you had.” My voice is low, but the threat is real. I’d like nothing better than to throw him on the ground and put my foot on his neck.

“How dare you!” He sputters, the red growing hotter in his face. “I’ll have you know my father—”

“One second.” My jaw is clenched, and I’m actually growing excited. “Three, two…”

“I’m sorry!” He yells, far louder than I expected.

It’s very satisfying.

“To whom are you apologizing and why?” It’s more of an order than a question, and I steer him around so he’s facing my date.

“Joselyn!” He’s still shouting, and our fellow patrons stop eating.

Two of the waiters rush out then stop when they see what’s happening.

I give him a sharp jerk. “Continue.”

“I’m sorry, Joselyn, for saying bad things about you.” He’s breathing fast like the sniveling loser he is.

“Will you ever do it again?”

“I’ll never do it again.”

Leaning forward, I look down into his face. “Good. Now get out and never come here again. This is our restaurant, and I don’t want you spoiling our dinner.”

I let him go with a shove, and he bounces off an empty table behind him before staggering to the exit. Looking around, I straighten my jacket, meeting a mixture of curiosity and approval.

“I apologize for the disruption. Just removing some old trash.”