Her dark eyes are pools of hurt and confusion as she looks back at me and whispers, "Hi." I feel like a f**king jackass, even though I haven’t done anything wrong. She doesn’t know that. I need to grab her and pull her off somewhere so that I can explain this. Fuck, she’s working. I don’t want to jeopardize her job. I would never do that to her. Her job is very, very important to her. I know that.
I feel my jaw clenching as I answer Gwen, "Yes, I do know her. This is Evie Cruise." The love of my life. Evie glances over at Gwen questioningly and so I say, "This is Gwen Parker," gesturing my head toward Gwen’s general area.
Evie nods toward her saying, "Hi," very quietly.
"I don't need an introduction, Jakey, I was just surprised that you know her," she says like the bitch she is, and then she hooks herself back onto my arm and grips more tightly when I attempt to move away.
The blood starts pounding through my brain and I feel my jaw ticking against my will.
Evie’s eyes move to Gwen’s arms gripping me and she says very quietly, her brow furrowing, "Right. Well, have a nice evening." And as she’s turning away, I have to physically restrain myself from reaching out and grabbing her and hauling her off to my car. I can see that her hands are shaking and as she turns, her tray tips forward and I hear a loud, wet plop as a cracker full of caviar falls directly on the top of Gwen’s foot. Bulls Eye! Score! I very, very barely contain the laugh that threatens, but that’s quickly squelched as Gwen screeches, "Oh my God! Do you know how much these shoes cost? No, of course you don't! These are fourteen hundred dollar shoes!" And, Christ, that shit is funny too and I almost laugh again until I register the look on Evie’s face. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes wide and she’s humiliated. Fuck! My instincts roar through me and everything in me is screaming, protect! For so many, many years, that was my job, and I took it very seriously. Evie doesn’t even have any idea how many times I got my ass kicked over her, or kicked someone’s ass. I always preferred to do the ass kicking, but the outcome was somewhat irrelevant to me as long as the douchebag who insulted her, whether to her face or behind her back, learned why that was not acceptable. Mean kids always hone in on the weakest of their species, and who is weaker than a foster kid with low self-esteem and worn-ass clothes? Shit, we were like giant targets walking through school. That wasn’t going to happen to Evie though, not if I had anything to say about it.
Before I can even react, the blond guy who brought the tray of drinks around earlier rushes up to Evie, whispers something close to her face and takes her tray, shooting me a death glare. Ouch. And who the f**k is he? I glare back at him, my jaw clenching even harder. FUCK!
Evie bends down to meet Gwen who is swiping at her foot and muttering to herself about minimum wage workers, and says, "I'm so sorry. Please, let me help you clean it off. If you'll come with me to the ladies room, I can use a cleaning cloth on it. I bet it will come right off."
"Fine!" Gwen hisses and I think it’s probably good that Evie is leading her away from me because telling Gwen to go f**k herself would feel so damn good right now, and I honestly don’t know if I could have helped myself.
The blond guy approaches me again, holding out a tray of champagne and I take two, downing them both, one after the other. I stare back at him expressionless as he shoots me one last, disgusted glare. Someone else who has Evie’s back. Not surprising.
I stand staring in the direction of the bathroom, waiting for them to emerge, needing a glimpse of Evie to make sure she’s okay.
Christine, who must have watched that whole exchange go down comes up and gently touches my arm. "You okay?" she asks gently.
"No, not so much."
She gives me a concerned look. "I’ll make sure Gwen’s occupied if you want to go talk to that girl."
I sigh, running my hand down my face. "I can’t, Christine. She’s working. I’d only make it worse."
She purses her lips and heaves a big sigh. "Okay." She pauses and then, "What’s her name?"
I glance at her quickly. "Evie."
"Does Evie know you love her?"
I’m quiet for several moments. "She did once. But no, not now."
Christine is quiet too, probably wondering what that means. "Well, then, you find a way to remind her."
I look at her fully now. "I’m trying."
I see Evie emerge from the bathroom first, a wounded look on her face as she scurries out the door of the banquet room. Fuck! Gwen is such a bitch! I hear Christine say warningly, "Jake–" but I don’t listen. I storm off, and slam into the women’s bathroom which I should have done ten minutes ago. What was I thinking leaving Evie alone with a calculating witch like Gwen?
She’s standing at the bathroom mirror, primping, a look of satisfaction on her face. "Well, hello," she says, turning, and leaning up against the sink.
"What’d you say to her?" I demand, adrenaline racing through my body.
She scoffs and turns back to the mirror. "Who cares? She’s some little serving girl, Jake. Seriously?"
I stare at her incredulously for several beats.
"That’s it, Gwen. I’m done making nice with you out of sheer guilt. You’re a spoiled, thoughtless bitch and so f**king boring, I can barely keep myself awake when you’re talking. Christ, you should bottle your personality and sell it as a sleep aid."