Chapter 8 Aurora #2
I take a deep breath. Rip it off, that’s what Dove said. And Charlie’s giving me the perfect opportunity.
‘George Thorne is my father.’
Charlie laughs. ‘Rory, come on, that’s not funny.’
‘You’re right, it’s not. It’s not funny that he’s been locked up for something he didn’t do.’
Charlie gapes at me.
‘I actually wanted to talk to you about something too,’ I say, seizing my opportunity. ‘You and me . . . I don’t think this is work—’
‘You’re joking, right?’ Charlie leans across the table, glaring at me.
‘No, I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking it for some time and—’
‘I meant your father!’ he snaps, causing me to recoil at the venom in his voice.
‘Why would I joke about that?’
‘You mean to tell me I’ve been dating the daughter of a goddamn crook? Do you have any idea what that could do to my professional reputation if people found out?’
I frown. ‘You’re an imports manager. You don’t work in finance. I doubt anyone would care if—’
‘Stuck-up bitch!’ he scoffs, throwing his seat back and standing so fast the bottle of wine on our table topples over and falls on to the floor, glugging out its contents.
‘I’m stuck up?’ I gasp. ‘You’re the one telling me you wouldn’t date someone because of who their family is. Even if what people say about them is complete and utter bullshit.’
‘I can’t believe this.’ He pushes his hands back through his hair, dragging in deep breaths before his eyes narrow and he leans over the table towards me, pointing a finger into my face. ‘You’re a lying—’
‘That’s enough,’ a deep voice thunders.
Charlie screws his face up in pain as he’s hauled backwards. He fights to turn so he can get a look at who’s got him dangling like a worm on a hook.
‘That’s no way to talk to a lady.’
His face reddens as Rafael drops him like a sack of shit and he falls into the table, setting the cutlery and plates clanging.
‘I suggest you apologise and then get the hell out of here. She was about to dump your arse, anyway.’
‘What?’ Charlie gapes at Rafael, who’s calmly adjusting his shirt cuffs and smoothing them down.
‘She’s clearly too good for you. Even an idiot can see that.’
Rafael’s blistering gaze roams over me, and my mouth goes dry as his attention lowers briefly to my rock-hard nipples, then back to my face.
‘I bet you don’t even know what to do with her.’ He smirks. ‘Tell me, Beauty . . .’ He tips his head towards Charlie, his gaze fixed on me. ‘He ever made you come without you having to fake it?’
‘Um . . .’ I falter.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ Charlie rages.
‘A man who never has to wonder,’ he replies with ease. ‘Now, apologise.’
Charlie’s eyes slide to mine as the server approaches and places the bill down hesitantly, before retreating. Even he knows we aren’t staying for dessert.
Charlie picks the black folder up, and I can’t help it, my shoulders soften in relief. Then he tosses it on to my plate, splashing my dress with the remainder of my lobster.
‘I’m sorry I ever fell for your lies. Have a nice life, Rory.’
I spin in my seat and watch him storm out.
That went . . . Holy shit, that went terribly. I wanted things to end, but this isn’t quite what I had in mind.
I turn back to grab a napkin, but Rafael’s already holding one out to me.
‘Send me the dry-cleaning bill.’
‘Excuse me?’
His eyes drop to my dress as I wipe at it in vain. It’s no use; the cream in the sauce has left ugly oily patches on it that might not come out.
‘I said, I’ll pay for the dress.’
‘It’s fine,’ I mutter, abandoning my clean-up efforts and opening up the bill instead.
The numbers burn into my eyes and my palms prick with sweat. I don’t have enough to cover it. I’m going to have to offer to wait tables, or clean up in the kitchen, or—
‘How much?’ Rafael asks.
‘I—’
‘How much, Aurora?’ He sighs, sounding bored.
I force a swallow. ‘Two hundred and forty.’
‘Hm.’ He grunts at the figure like it amuses him somehow. ‘I’ll take care of it.’
‘No, I—’
‘Wait here. I’ll let Seraphina know I’m giving you a lift home.’
I snap my eyes back to his table. His date is sitting there patiently.
She gives me a sympathetic look. I dart my eyes to the other tables.
People avert their gazes politely, but I see it in all of their faces: pity, and morbid curiosity.
The same looks were on everyone’s faces in the courtroom when my father’s verdict was delivered.
My throat grows tight. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Aurora—’
‘I said, I’m fine. I don’t need you pretending to be nice to me because I’m Dove’s friend, okay? We both know what you really think of me and my father, so cut the crap,’ I hiss, my cheeks burning with humiliation.
Rafael’s brows lower, and if anything he looks impressed at my bitten reply, rather than offended.
‘Okay,’ he says slowly. ‘I’ll cut the crap. You’ll let me pay for dinner, and your dress. And if you don’t want me to drive you home myself, then you’ll also take this for a cab.’
He pulls a diamond-encrusted money clip from his pocket and I almost snort at the pretentiousness of it.
He holds out two fifties to me and I wait for him to snatch them back like Tanya did, in a pathetic display of twisted control.
When I don’t move to take them, he takes my hand in his and presses them into my palm, leaning down until his lips brush my ear.
‘Now close your fingers.’
I do as he says, curling them around the crisp paper until I have a firm grip.
‘Good girl,’ he rasps.
A shiver runs up my spine and I glare at him as he moves back so he knows I still hate him.
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve kept my date waiting long enough.’
I flick my eyes to the woman, who’s watching Rafael with lustful eyes that convey every dirty plan she has for him at the end of their meal. Nausea swirls in my gut, threatening to resurface my dinner.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper, despising myself for saying those words to a man I hate.
I don’t look at him again. I can’t.
I take his money, and I get out of there as fast as I can.