"Okay...I think that's the best you can expect given the circumstances," said the white shirted man behind Lou.
"Now, turn around and leave," he finished as he released his hold upon the man's neck.
Lou sagged slightly and Sara thought he might faint where he stood. Instead, he took a ragged breath and staggered toward the exit as the crowd parted before him, all eyes turned to the spectacle. His companion quickly followed suit as he hurried after the large man disappearing through the door.
Amber eyes held her own in an intense gaze, then the man that now stood before her said, "You surprised me." His tone was quizzical, as if he had not expected to be surprised, as if other people rarely surprised him.
"I'm sorry," Sara replied, her own voice shaking.
"Don't be," he answered, then took her arm and said, "Come on."
Almost stumbling to keep up with his brisk gait, Sara felt a thrill flutter through her. The object of every lunch hour's thoughts was trying to help her.
He nodded to the barman as they went and said, "Send my affairs upstairs."
Without waiting for a reply, or even a second glance behind him at all the paperwork he had strewn across the booth's tabletop, Sara's rescuer led her down a corridor. She recognized it as the one leading to the restaurant's men's and ladies' rooms and her heart sank just a little.
Suddenly she was sure he only wanted to show her the way to the bathroom while he went somewhere more quiet to finish whatever it was he worked on each midday.
Except that they marched right past the bathroom doors to the corridor's end where a single door was marked plainly, No Admittance--Staff Only.
Without missing a beat, the man in white opened the door and gestured that Sara should step within. The doorway gave onto a stairwell leading upward and, together, they went up to the next floor where a second door stood closed, this one marked Manager's Office.
Again, the man did not hesitate as he opened the door and waited for Sara to step inside.
A corpulent man was seated at a desk, his own paperwork before him, and he jumped with surprise that made his jowls wiggle as Sara came to a standstill, unsure what to do after having barged into his office without even knocking first.
"Yes?" he said, then looking past her, just as quickly followed by, "Oh!"
Sara's rescuer walked past her, his stride as confident as ever and said, "Out. Now."
The manager jumped to his feet and said, "Oh yes...of course, sir."
Sara noticed that where before his cheeks merely wiggled, now they positively quivered as he hastily went out the door through which they had just come.
Her jaw dropped down as the white shirted man walked past her and began tugging open cabinet doors, apparently looking for something, and appearing as if he owned the place.
Then it hit her.
"Are you the owner?" she asked.
He stopped what he was doing, then straightened, turning to her.
"Hmmm...that depends on how you look at it," he replied.
Sara hesitated, then said, "I mean, it's not that I'm not grateful. I am. I just can't help wondering who can do that. I mean, just tell people what to do and they do it, no questions."
Amber eyes turned to regard her. In them she thought she saw hints of orange, or maybe very light green. It was hard to say, except that the color was far lighter than brown eyes had any right to be. It was unearthly.
"Does it matter?" he asked, frowning.
His frame was massive. Sara had always been able to make out that he was a muscular, very fit man. But, as she had always seen him seated with his back turned to her, she had not been able to appreciate to what point his chest was broad with a carry to his heavy shoulders that looked worthy of wearing a knight's cloak. No, a king's cloak.
What kind of crazy thinking is this? she asked herself.
"No," she said, "It doesn't matter. I appreciate what you did back there and what you're doing now. I was about to die from embarrassment in front of all those people."
He came closer to her, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, relaxed. But, she was sure she could see living fire smoldering in his gaze as he looked at her.
"Embarrassed or not, that didn't stop you from slapping him," he said, coming even closer to her.
Sara tried looking away, searching for something else to focus on, something less dangerous, but his eyes held her like lodestones. He was close enough that she could see his lashes, so very long and thick framing those exquisitely beautiful eyes.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," she stammered under his unwavering scrutiny.
"Don't be sorry," he said as his body neared to the point where Sara could feel the heat of him.
It's like standing next to a bonfire, she thought, her senses tightening like clock springs in his proximity. Crazily, all she could think of was that given the chance, she would gladly throw herself onto the blaze.