Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
The day that keeps on giving.
I stand up from the table, resting a hand on Walt’s arm as I brace myself for the incoming tsunami known as Sylvester Strickler.
“I can handle him.” My voice doesn’t sound very convincing.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m not leaving you to deal with a man that looks like he’s going to go apeshit.”
I whisper, “He’s mostly show. And really, I’m fine. I’ll deal with him and then we can get back to planning for your visit.”
Unfortunately, Sylvester continues to steam toward us until he’s right on top of us. This makes Walt’s expression turn dark.
Dare I say, murderous?
In one smooth move, Walt pushes me behind him.
The move is so surprising, I’m a little thrown off by it.
As I imagined, Sylvester’s boiling mad and mostly drunk.
He demands, “What are you doing talking to him?”
Instinct makes me want to bare my teeth, but Walt’s back would be the only thing that sees me. I lean to the left, so I can see around Walt’s shoulder. “ He has a name. Sylvester, this is Walt. Walt, this is Sylvester.”
I leave off the dozen nicknames I have for Sylvester, none of which are flattering. Although it would be pretty funny to see how Walt would handle my remarks.
Would he laugh?
Something tells me, yes. He’s got a mischievousness about him that’s almost irresistible.
When the staring match continues between the two men, I slide around Walt’s elbow and take up a spot next to him, appreciating his imposing presence. “Do you need something, Sylvester?”
Two beady brown eyes the color of muddy water snap in my direction as if he just remembered I’m standing here.
“Why would I be yelling your name if I didn’t need something?”
Eye-roll-warning alarms blare in my head.
Walt chooses now to come to my rescue…yet again. “Mighty forward of you to ask about a private conversation between me and my friend.”
“Friend!” Sylvester’s face darkens to a weird purple shade. “I thought the mayor said she just met you at the bank?”
“I make friends fast,” Walt says, never taking his hardened gaze off Sylvester’s face. “And I like to keep them nice and safe.”
A large vein pulses in Sylvester’s neck. He bites out, “Get lost. I need to have a word alone with you, Marianna.”
The nerve of this guy. My answer is succinct. “You’re drunk, Sylvester, and I’m not talking to you tonight.”
Preferably not ever. But I’ve got to figure that part out.
As expected, this goes over like someone stealing your last bit of chocolate cake.
Sylvester’s already thin lips flatten out. It’s an unattractive look. Walt on the other hand looks even better like this. All hot alpha. There’s never been two men more opposite than these guys.
Walt is big, razor-edged and strong. He wears a suit damned well even though he’s got a street fighter’s energy.
His expression has gone from murderous to dangerously calm now. Unreadable, bordering on relaxed. Like the king of the jungle is getting ready to strike.
Sylvester, on the other hand, looks like he might explode. There’s also the fact he looks like someone just finished primping him for a photoshoot.
I never cared for the man before, but after seeing him stacked against the handsome stranger, he’s ridiculously sad.
Control slipping, Sylvester resorts to snarling. “I said, now .”
“Careful, now,” Walt warns, voice low and very controlled.
“I’m not available. We’re in the middle of an important conversation.” I move closer to my protector’s side. “You can’t just barge over here and interrupt like you’re the king of the world.”
Sylvester glares at me, then focuses on Walt again, his anger churning. “So, I bet flyboy here is trying to woo you with the story of his heroics at the bank.”
My foot twitches with the urge to nail his shin with the pointy toe of my shoe. “Don’t be rude, Sylvester. And I was at the bank, so there’s no story to it. He was heroic.”
Without looking at me, he says, “Nothing about what I said was rude.”
I’m so over this conversation and even more over dealing with Sylvester period. I narrow my eyes and shake my head. “Calling a stranger flyboy is rude.”
Walt makes a displeased sound. “It’s especially rude when I’m a sailor.”
“Go wash your boat.”
Childish.
I feel it the instant Walt’s control snaps. Body tightening, tone going even more alpha, he says, “You’re out of line and I’m not talking about anything you say to me, because I couldn’t give a fuck, but you treat her bad and you’re going to have to deal with me, and it won’t be pleasant.”
This makes Sylvester seething mad. “Why don’t you head over to the bar. Put your next drink on my tab.”
“It’s an open bar. But no thanks. I’m all good.”
Point for Walt for an epic comeback.
An electric silence vibrates around the three of us, drowning the salsa music coming from the other side of the veranda.
Walt shifts his weight between his shoes, he smooths his lapels and unbuttons his coat. Venomous words follow. “Guess I need to help you understand what ‘not tonight’ means.”
Uh oh.
I hope his suit has enough stretch in it or he’ll be ripping the shoulder seams when he pounds Sylvester into tomorrow.
I let myself have a little fantasy. What a glorious vision. Not the suit ripping, although that could be very sexy. But watching Sylvester run with his tail tucked would make my year.
Only, I sadly know the man is like a boil that you try to pop but never goes away.
I put my hand on Walt’s arm. As much as I hate to stop his epic show of him being much more man than Sylvester, I need to try to keep the peace for several reasons. “Walt, why don’t I give him ONE minute. Then I’m yours for the rest of the night.”
Sylvester gapes.
I get the full weight of my handsome protector’s gaze. Oof.
As Walt’s lips curl in a cocky grin, I realize I’ve probably said exactly the wrong thing.
Right thing? Wrong thing?
God. I’m so confused about how the man makes me feel.
“I’ll be right there.” Walt tips his chin toward our table. “If you need me just speak up.”
I try to smile, but my insides are twisted up in a knot. This is a terrible idea.
Sylverster’s slugging his drink down when I turn to him and say, “Your one minute timer is ticking.”
“You really want to fuck that piece of shit, Marianna?”
I’m not sure if my face is suddenly so hot from anger or embarrassment. “Keep your voice down, Sylvester.”
“When are you going to admit defeat?”
I nearly snap my teeth off. “Never. I will never give you or my father the satisfaction.”
He laughs darkly, his eyes going over my head toward Walt, who is waiting just a few paces away. “He makes a good guard dog, Marianna. I doubt he’s good for much more than that. Doesn’t seem to have a lot in the brains department. You’ll find out soon enough what it’s like to be with a real man.”
After squelching the vomit that he makes rise in my throat, I shake my head. “You’re so petty.”
Who knew one minute could go so wrong. I should have known that Sylvester would be a total asshole.
“I’m not above doing anything to get what I want and if you’re going to choose this path—the one where you fuck him—your precious business is going to become the focus of a very troubling news story.”
I lock my lips together to keep from inhaling swiftly. This man’s darkness knows no bounds and makes my anger reach a new ferocity.
My eyes have to be glowing red. “You really are despicable.”
He smirks. “You’re such a hotheaded little brat. I can’t wait to show you your place?—”
I hiss at him. “I’m done with this conversation.”
He leans in, his hot, alcohol tainted breath washing over me. “I’m warning you, Marianna. Don’t push your luck with me. You will be attending the heiresses’ garden party with me this Sunday. And before long you’ll be doing everything I say, so you should just go ahead and resign yourself to it. Although I have to admit, I get hard thinking about taming you.”
It takes every ounce of my control not to snap on him, to slap his face, kick him in the balls and dump a flower arrangement on his head.
The only thing that stops me is that I know he’s dead WRONG.
This gives me immense satisfaction.
“I’m working on Sunday. I have a farm to run.” I straighten my shoulders and look him dead in the eye. “Not all of us spend our time lounging by the pool having cocktails and getting spray on tans.”
He stiffens, a dangerous light glowing in his brown eyes. “You’re going to pay.”
“Your minute is up.”
“I have a mind to drag your ass out of here and teach you how to respect a man.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“You’re mine, Marianna, and you’re going to learn to obey.”
I am so damned tempted to signal Walt, but I don’t. I draw a breath as a wave of queasiness rolls through me.
“Screw you.” I turn and stride away. I’m so angry and upset, I can’t even look in Walt’s direction. I take off for the exit to the veranda instead.
I need to get my balance before my head explodes.