Better Than Chance(12)

His gaze seemed a bit more pointed when he looked at me. My flush of embarrassment in my inebriated state made me feel very sure at that moment that I was being judged. Embarrassment turned quickly to anger. How dare he? He had no fucking right to make any assumptions about me or decide he didn’t like me without knowing shit about me. I couldn’t trust myself not to say anything I’d regret. I peeled off a few bills to tip the bartender before I made my excuses and left Mel with our dickhead of a boss.

I headed toward the restroom. I needed to slow down my alcohol consumption and have something to eat. The evening was far from over. Unfortunately. I stood at the sink rinsing soap off my hands when I noticed a familiar form in the mirror. Justin?

“Hey there. What are you doing here?” I know my greeting was warmer than I would have aimed for if I hadn’t had a couple of drinks, but I couldn’t help it. He was kind of cute.

Justin’s face registered total surprise when he recognized me. His sweet, youthful face broke into a wide grin.

“Hi. I didn’t expect to see you here. How’ve you been?” He shoved his hands in his front pockets. Must be a nervous habit of his, I mused.

“Good. Well… what are you doin’ here? You here for business or pleasure?” Note to self, I thought… stop drinking. I was in high-flirt mode and seemingly powerless to stop myself. I didn’t want anything more with Justin. Not another night of hot sweaty…. I shook my head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs.

“I’m not sure actually.” He shrugged his shoulders in a boyish manner, still wearing that silly grin. “I’m supposed to meet someone, but….”

I smiled at his reflection in the mirror, reading him clearly.

“I’m at a work function. Sorry, hon. Have fun, though.” I turned to face him and gave him a platonic kiss on the cheek before I opened the door of the men’s room. Justin followed me out.

“Wait!”

I turned back and felt my equilibrium shift. I needed to sit. And eat. I held up a hand intending to say one more good-bye to Justin when I spotted Peter Morgan heading toward us. I was stuck. I remember thinking I should give a quick nod to each man and move back to the party, but that wasn’t what I did. Instead, I made eye contact with Peter before stepping back toward Justin, pulling him into my arms. He made a small surprised sound but didn’t push me away. I rewarded him with a light kiss on his lips.

Peter stopped short, and I realized later that probably had more to do with the fact we were blocking the path to the restroom rather than that he wanted to watch me grope another man. He cleared his throat and offered what might pass as a pleasant smile.

“Reynolds.” He nodded and then looked over at Justin, giving him a somewhat pointed look, as though he were saying something with his eyes. In my condition and because I was sure everything Morgan did was out of spite, I jumped to a negative conclusion and reacted in kind.

“Mr. Morgan.” I tucked Justin close to me hoping his face had lost that shocked look he wore when I kissed him. “I want you to meet my boyfriend, Justin. Honey, this is my boss, Mr. Peter Morgan.”

For a brief moment, Peter’s face was a picture of surprise before he caught himself and schooled his features to a barely interested glance. He held a hand out to Justin in greeting and again, I could have sworn something passed between them. Unreasonably, it made me angry all over again. I hated this man. I don’t know why I assumed the look they shared was meaningful, but my muddled brain was sure it also passed judgment, and that I wouldn’t stand for. I squeezed Justin and released my hold, taking his hand in mine for a moment.

“Honey, go on without me. Okay?”

“Um… sure.” Justin was a terrible actor, I decided. But thankfully he took the hint and shoved his hands back in his pockets, giving both Morgan and me a strange parting look.

I heard a small chuckle and looked up to see Peter Morgan’s eyes alight with laughter. At me? Fuck him! I could almost hear myself growl I was so pissed.

“Do not judge me! You don’t know me at all. I’m gay. Who I sleep with and how I spend my time in my private life is of no concern whatsoever to you! So spare me the disgusted, fucked-up, judgmental bullshit. I’m over it and frankly Mr. Morgan… I’m over you.”

I turned on my heels, wishing I was wearing something amazing, like a long billowing great coat and cool boots instead of a monkey suit. Moreover, I wished I could have had a few minutes to prepare a speech plainly stating my distaste for him. While I made my way out toward the valet, I reran my words in my head and decided I sounded like a paranoid idiot. That made me angry all over again. I hated that asshole!