"Matthew Finch!" Rhonda finally came out of the office to stand in the dining room and stare at him. "What do you mean, coming in to my restaurant and causing trouble like this?"
Matt jerked his head toward Grey. "We're not the ones causing trouble. This guy—"
"Looks to me like this guy was sitting there drinking a cup of coffee and minding his own business, and you came in and started hassling him." Rhonda put her hands on her hips and glared. "So this guy can stay if he wants, but you and your friend need to get out of my place until you can come back with a civil tongue in your head."
"Rhonda, we're just—" Paul started in a conciliating tone.
"You're just nothing." Rhonda was brooking no argument. "You both get out now or I call the police on you. I don't think you want them after you again, Matthew."
Matt glared at her, then transferred the glare to Grey. "You coming?"
Grey shook his head. "You're the one who wants to fight, not me." He glanced over at Ali, and she could hear him thinking, or her as clear as if he'd said it out loud.
"Matt, come on," Paul said. "We can find him later. We know where he is now."
Matt's face twisted in an unpleasant smile. "That's right. We'll be waiting for you, asshole." He led the way out of the restaurant.
When they were gone, Ali let out a breath in relief. She turned away from Grey, and found herself face to face with Rhonda.
"What on earth was that all about?" Rhonda asked her.
Ali shook her head. "Just Paul wanting to start some trouble. I didn't tell him to do anything, he was just using me as an excuse."
Rhonda frowned. "Hmm. Well, you make sure he doesn't use you as an excuse inside these walls again. I don't want my waitresses attracting trouble."
Ali nodded tiredly. "Yes, ma'am."
She was so sick of things being inexplicably her fault. How could she have controlled Paul? There was no way she could've stopped this, unless she'd had the foresight to pretend everything was okay to Molly when she’d gotten home earlier.
But she couldn't have. Nothing was okay.
She looked involuntarily back at Grey. He was still standing by his booth, watching her. When their eyes met, he took a few steps toward her and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause trouble at your job. I'll see myself out." He took out his wallet and laid a twenty on the table— way more than his endless cup of coffee was worth.
"Did you mean that?" Ali heard herself say, and then cursed herself for not staying quiet.
His attention was immediately on her again. "Mean which?"
“All of it.” She bit her lip. “About being a lady, and Paul doing what I didn’t want.” She was getting it all jumbled, but the core of it seemed to stand out to her like it was lit up with a fiery brightness.
“About respect, you mean.” Grey’s eyes were steady on hers.
That was it. “Yes.”
“I meant it.” Grey glanced at the door. “Those guys don’t respect you.”
Ali let out a sharp laugh. “That’s for sure.” She looked away. “No one in this town respects me.”
“Why not?” When she looked back, he was still looking at her, those silver-grey eyes seeming to go right through her. “You’re smart and caring and not afraid to speak your mind. Why wouldn’t anyone respect you?”
She didn’t want to talk about it.
He took one step closer. She was suddenly aware of his body: his broad shoulders and big hands, his narrow hips and powerful thighs. All wrapped up in jeans and a T-shirt now, but she knew what he looked like out of his clothes.
“Alethia, who told you that you were his mate and lied about it?”
She snapped back to attention. His voice was soft, but his eyes were sharp.
“It’s not real,” she whispered.