One more second in his presence, and I will follow through on promise number two. Bruised knuckles and blood.
I hear Sabrina’s heels tapping and the rustle of her dress behind me.
“Mr. Heron? Wait up! Hey. Hey, Mag?” she tries, her voice laced with fear, confusion, and so much uncertainty.
I hate it, but she can’t follow me out of this room. Not now.
If she does, rumors will be lethal. They’ll already be bad enough coming from anyone who saw me get up in Willis’ face.
Stopping, I throw up my hand, spin around, then grind out, “Stay. Don’t follow me.”
She looks horrified.
I can tell from the way the clicking ceases that I’ve stopped her in her tracks.
Maybe I should have let her, though.
She already didn’t want to be here, and after this shit, neither do I.
I’ll find my own ride back to the hotel the way I prefer.
Alone.11Omens, Omens Everywhere (Sabrina)Heron’s tone was a knife to the heart.
He left me all alone. Dizzy. At a party I don’t even want to attend.
I get it. He’s obviously upset, but I just wanted to make sure he was okay.
I’m still trying to figure out what just happened.
Yes, the old guy’s words sting. Not only do I know I don’t belong in this room for certain, but I’m aware everyone else views me as a prop. His little accessory.
And Mag’s overreaction only drew attention to it. Awesome. Thanks a lot, boss.
That said, I can’t forget the pep talk in the hall, the way he touched my face. What even?
He’s never been...gentle before.
Until tonight, I didn’t even think gentle and Magnus Heron shared the same universe. I totally didn’t think he’d wind up defending me from a pig oinking far worse things than he’s ever said.
It’s so crazy, so unexpected, it’s hard to breathe.
I scan the room, shaking my head.
Everyone’s still watching me, leaning in, whispering under their breath. A couple of women across the room point, thinking I don’t see them.
I want to die.
The HeronComm entourage looks frozen. Angie’s face is blank, and Hugo’s eyes are full moons behind his glasses. But neither of them make an effort to come talk to me.
I thought we were friends? Guess I can’t blame them for processing, though.
That’s all I’m going to be doing for the next month.
Finally, I spot Ruby tucked in a corner across the room, a martini in her hand, immune to the drama talk rippling around us. She stares at me, her face unreadable, assessing.
Ugh. What now?
I draw in a breath and cross the room.
“Wh—what was that all about? Any idea?” I ask.
“You tell me, Brina. What did Jake Willis say to kick things off?” Ruby asks.
“You know him?”
She rolls her eyes. “Every woman in this industry knows Jake. We’re never in a room alone with him.”
I glance back to the bar.
“Is he dangerous?” I ask quietly.
He looks like a grandpa, but he talks like an open sewer.
She sips her champagne. “He’s fairly harmless. For now. But he’s disgustingly handsy. He’s more reserved when other people are around. A lot of men his age like to get loud and stupid and grabby at the more casual events, especially when the liquor flows like water.” She pushes her hand away as if she can sweep the thought aside just as easy. “What did he say to you?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t say anything to me. He told Heron he brought the right accessories and that I was a ‘nice young piece.’” I make finger quotes around those last three words, my tongue flicking out in disgust.
Ruby glares at the bar.
“Jackass,” she mumbles, then she looks at me, taking a thoughtful sip off her drink. “Let me give you some sage advice. Magnus doesn’t tolerate rumors about his dating life. You’d be wise to keep a buffer because people come to these events to talk.”
“Talk?” I bite my lip. “To talk about people? Like gossip mills?”
Ruby shrugs. “Gossip gets more interesting with every zero tacked on to your net worth, and a lot of the people here come with many Zs.”
Rich people. Go figure.
“What rumors, though? And what behavior? Magnus didn’t do anything wrong.”
Her lips form a tight smile. “I can’t say much, but...there was an internal scandal years ago. It had nothing to do with Magnus. It happened while his father was CEO. Mag just cleaned up the mess.”
“Then why would he take the blame?” I ask.
Ruby surveys the room.
I follow her gaze, and I’m looking directly at the rest of the nervous HeronComm group gathered around the bar before she speaks again.
“We don’t talk about this—”
Her words remind me of Armstrong’s that first morning on the job, and Hugo and Angie’s reactions to a bad joke a little while later.
“This scandal actually involved our former CEO, Baxter Heron,” Ruby says. “What started as a family matter for the Herons soon involved the entire company.”