Shit, I should not have called Hank. I need to hang up the phone before I make matters worse. This is PR Crisis Mismanagement 101.
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.” I disconnect and consider slamming my phone against the table. Repeatedly.
Marley’s face is twisted. “What now?”
Fire is in my veins. “You got a cigarette?”
“You’re not supposed to smoke here.”
“I don’t give a damn.”
He fishes in his pocket, and I fire it up. I’m going to hell anyway. Slamming back the fourth whiskey, I’m on my feet, grinding my jaw. Nashville Notes is a shitty little gossip rag that every business leader in this town reads. Hell, anyone doing business in Nashville reads it.
“Fuck…” I growl louder.
“Stop pacing.” Marley’s voice is low. “The waitress is coming. We’d better go.”
He’s on his feet, putting an arm across my chest.
“Sir, you have to take that outside.”
“We are outside.” I’ve had too much whiskey.
“I mean off the premises. Please don’t make me call security.” Her smile is flinty, like I’m not the first belligerent smoker she’s encountered.
“Come on, Patton. Let’s go, man.” Marley’s pulling on my shoulder, and my eyes flare.
The waitress’s expression turns to fear, and she takes a step back, doing a little wave toward the bar.
“Colleen, is it?” I read her nametag. “Some little worm is trying to fuck with me.”
“Hey, we’re just going. No worries.” Marley smiles and then steps to me. “Don’t make things worse. Let’s. Go.”
A big guy is headed in our direction, and my first thought is I can take him. My second thought is my fucking dad.
Clenching my fist, I take one last drag then drop the cigarette in my drink. “ Sorry, Colleen. We’re leaving.”
She puts her hand on the bouncer’s arm, and says something quietly. I’m behind Marley heading to the door. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes as we descend, trying to stop my fury. Trying to think this through.
“They’re eight hours ahead of us in Dubai… Abu Dhabi… I need to call David.”
“Our lawyer?” Marley’s lost in his own thoughts. “Did Renée tell you I assaulted her?”
“No.” His words fan the anger in my chest. “Don’t even address that.”
A tone sounds, and the silver doors open.
Everything shifts.
Right in front of us is Jerry with his stupid head thrown back in a laugh. On his arm is a blonde, and I see he’s with Chip Braden. The two see me at the same time, and while Chip looks smug, Jerry’s face goes white.
My fist clenches, and it’s too late for clear thinking. Lunging forward, I catch Jerry by the collar as he tries to run.
“Patton!” His voice breaks on a scream as I punch him in the face.
Damn, that felt good is quickly followed by screaming pain. I might have broken my hand.
I don’t give a shit. I’m pulling back to hit him again, harder, when Marley has me around the bicep, pulling me back.