“To Uncle Barry then,” I said, holding up my drink, and knocked it back in several big gulps.
Stuart’s smile never left his face. “Looks like you haven’t changed at all, Ash,” he said. “So tell me, did you parents have the talk with you?”
I grimaced slightly. I hadn’t seen or spoken to him since my parents informed me of our future nuptials, and I really, really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. I still hadn’t processed everything.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, frowning at him.
“Ah, come on,” he said, his grin growing across his glue-colored skin as he came closer. “I know your parents told you about us getting married. I said to my father that would be suitable for me, you know, since you’ve got such a fantastic body. But seriously, Ash, we’ll have to work on that shitty attitude.”
He loomed over me, leering big, inches away. I clenched my jaw and tilted my chin up toward him. “If you don’t take a step back, I’ll show you my shitty attitude all over your fucking balls,” I said.
He laughed and shook his head. “Come now, Ash. We’re going to get married. There’ll be plenty of time to play with my balls after the wedding. Besides, I’m not interested in tasting you before then. I don’t want you spoiled.”
“You asshole,” I said, and pressed my free hand against his chest, but he snatched it, grabbing my wrist hard. His face never changed, that smile still plastered over his ugly, swollen red lips. He gripped hard, and I gasped in surprise and pain.
“I see your father hasn’t made you understand yet,” Stuart said, coming closer to hide the way he dug his fingers into my wrist bone. I looked around wildly, but the groups of old rich men and women weren’t paying much attention, and even if they did, nobody would come and help. Stuart’s family was too important, and everyone must’ve known that we were to be married soon. In this world, that meant I was more or less his property.
“Let me go,” I said through clenched teeth.
“You will accept our marriage,” Stuart said. “Your father’s hedge fund and my family’s connections can do some marvelous things. But first, you will accept it.”
“Let me go, you pompous piece of rat shit.”
He leaned in, as if to kiss me. “Come now, Ash. We can have some fun together.”
I felt another figure loom up next to us. “Can I help you two?” It was a man’s voice, deep and resonant.
Stuart released his grip, but didn’t move away. I hid my hurt wrist under my other arm and looked over—
And felt my breath catch.
He was tall, bigger than Stuart. His suit wasn’t quite so expensive, but it fit him perfectly. His hair was jet black and pushed stylishly back, though still messy, like he couldn’t be bothered to make it just right. His eyes were a deep brown, and dark stubble covered his jaw and cheeks, accentuating his sensual lips. His eyebrows were knit down in anger, and he stared at Stuart like he wanted to break Stuart’s kneecaps.
“We’re having a conversation,” Stuart said, glancing at the stranger. “And you’re not a part of it. So, if you please—”
“I’ll walk away,” the stranger said, “if she wants me to.” Then he looked at me, and I felt my breath catch.
There was a long pause. The stranger stared, and Stuart didn’t move. It was like the world hung in the balance, like I held the ocean up on my shoulders. The stranger’s eyes were like heaven, or maybe like hell, but either way I wanted to get closer to them. He was so different from the men I was used to, so different from baby-faced Stuart. This man had an edge to him that sent a thrill through my chest.
“You can stay,” I said, and my voice sounded small.
Stuart let out a disgusted noise and stepped away. “I’ll have you know that you’re interrupting something important here,” Stuart said, glaring at the man. “Do you know who I am?”
“No,” he said. “And I don’t much care. Why don’t you go get us all a drink?”
Stuart gaped and I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh. The stranger took my empty wine glass and waved it at Stuart. “Go on, kid,” he said. “The lady’s dry. Help her out.”
Stuart’s eyes blazed with rage and for one moment, I thought he might step up to this guy and make a scene. But of course he was too polite and well-mannered for that. A well-bred boy like Stuart didn’t fight or fuss in public. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away.
The man watched him go, then turned to me. “You okay?” he asked. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I thought you looked like he was hurting you.”