ChapterEight
Oliver
I shouldn’t have come. Piper is talking to a man at the bar, their heads bent toward each other. The possessiveness that bursts through me is alarming.
More of these inconvenient feelings. Irritated, I turn around to leave. I’ll call Arnold back, have him wait outside Mindy’s apartment to make sure they get home safe. Then I’ll call Piper tomorrow about the studio space. No. I’ll have someone else call her. I’ll have an assistant of an assistant write her a note and send it via carrier pigeon.
I’ve truly gone mad.
The crowd parts and I nearly run into Mindy Fox, who is stalking in my direction. Our eyes meet. She’s clearly agitated, her color high, her jaw hard, fists clenched at her sides.
We crossed swords the last time we spoke, in Whitby at Easter. Piper wanted to leave the small town, so I had invited her to the city. I would have given her one of the staff apartments in my building, but Mindy offered her spare room, shooting me suspicious looks that would have cut glass. Once Piper left the conversation, Mindy proceeded to tell me in graphic terms just how much she would hurt me if I did anything to cause Piper any kind of emotional distress. Her actual words were, “If you upset her, I will shove my foot so far up your ass you will choke on my toes.”
I glance around for an alternate escape route. No time.
She stops right in my path, her hands on her hips. “Oliver. I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you again.”
“Am I that scary to you? How flattering.”
“I aim to please.” Her eyes are sparking with fire.
I stay silent. She’s like a powder keg ready to explode. We are surrounded by temperamental artists, and I suppose working with them would drive anyone into a rage, but this is her job. You’d think she’d be used to it.
“What are you doing here, Oliver?”
“Enjoying the party.” I lift a hand at the general revelry.
Her brows lift. “Are you here because of Piper?”
I tilt my head. “What if I am?”
“I don’t trust you.”
“That’s because you have a modicum of intelligence.” I keep my voice dry.
“I see the way you watch her. She’s not something for you to play with. Piper is good down to her very soul. She’s also trusting and innocent, despite going through hell, and somehow still doesn’t recognize a snake when she sees one.”
I stare at her, impassive. I’m sure she’s right, but she doesn’t know that I would carve out my own heart before I hurt Piper. Intentionally, anyway. Unintentional damage is another story.
She stares back at me, unwavering. “I know how men like you operate.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
She opens her mouth to retort but cuts off when something over my shoulder catches her attention, her gaze narrowing. “Ben.” The name escapes her like a hiss.
I whip around, already on the move, scanning the crowd in search of Ben’s slimy face. Mindy follows me. I stop at the edge of the dance floor. “I don’t see him. Are you sure it was him?”
She’s eyeing the people around us, going up on her toes to try to see over heads. “It was just a flash, but the features… it looked almost exactly like him. The hair was a little darker, but I would recognize those beady little eyes anywhere. I would cheerfully murder him.”
I open my mouth to say, “Get in line,” but before I can speak, Piper appears next to me, her face ashen.
“I saw Ben.”
Mindy grabs her arm. “Me too. Did you see where he went?”
Piper nods, the movement robotic. “Out a side door. I didn’t follow.” She’s shivering even though it’s sweltering with all the bodies packed in here.
My fingers itch to take her in my arms and soothe her, and I clench my hands into fists. These thoughts are not helpful or normal. Not for me. They tug at the restraints I’ve built around my emotions. I don’t have any weaknesses. I don’t allow it.