Marrying Mr. Wrong (Dirty Martini Running Club #3) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,78
looked down at my hands.
Great, I got hit in the face with a serving tray and now I had a bloody nose.
Dominic grimaced. “Jesus. She’s bleeding everywhere.” He stood and brushed off the little bit of liquid that had splashed on his shirt. “Fuck this. I want my drinks comped.”
“Thanks for your help, asshole,” I said as he walked away. “Very heroic of you.”
Another server handed me a clean towel. A second later, Nora and Oliver were both at my side, with Lauren looking on.
I gingerly wiped my nose. “Gross.”
“Sweetie, are you okay?” Nora asked. “Should I get ice?”
“No.” I glanced around, but Dominic had disappeared. “I’m okay. But damn it, he was about to tell me what he was up to.”
“I know.” Nora gently rubbed my back. “But you did so good.”
“Do you want me to call Cox?” Oliver asked.
“No, I just want to get out of here. People are staring.”
Nora cast a death glare at all the onlookers. “She just got hit in the face. Don’t make it worse.”
Most of them had the decency to go back to their drinks.
“Come on, love.” Oliver helped me off the stool.
The club manager rushed out with more towels, an ice pack, and offers of free drinks. I told him I was fine; I just wanted to go home. Nora wrapped an arm around my shoulders and we went outside.
After making sure I was genuinely all right, Oliver said goodbye. At least one good thing had come out of tonight. He left with Lauren. It looked like his dreams of a date with tea shop girl were finally coming true.
Nora drove me back to Cox’s house. My nose still hurt, but the initial blinding pain had dulled considerably. It wasn’t broken. And I’d only gotten a little bit of blood on my dress.
I twisted a napkin in my hands, the lights outside blurring as we drove. I’d come so close. Why did things like this always happen to me? Why was I such a disaster all the time? This one hadn’t even been my fault. I hadn’t tripped or spilled or anything. And I was still a mess.
Story of my life.
But as soon as Nora pulled up in front of Cox’s house, my spirits lifted. I wasn’t going to tell him about Dominic—not yet—but I could tell him the rest. And I knew he was the one person who could truly make everything better.
27
Cox
The folded piece of fine-grit sandpaper was almost smooth against my fingers. I gently worked it across the wood, moving with the grain. My eyes lifted to the clock. Again. I needed to stop checking the time and focus on what I was doing. Watching the minutes tick by wasn’t going to bring Sophie home any faster.
I’d spent the first part of my evening trying to convince myself that I had not turned into the kind of guy who’d spend a Saturday night moping around because his girl went out with her friends.
It was a lie. I was that guy.
So I’d come out to my workshop in the garage. At least I could do something while I moped. I stopped sanding and ran my fingers along the wood. So far, so good.
A car pulled up outside. That was odd. I didn’t expect her home so early.
But you wouldn’t hear me complain.
I dusted the fine sawdust off my hands, covered my project with a cloth, and went back into the house.
As soon as Sophie came through the front door, I knew something was wrong. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying. I was ten feet away and it still felt like I couldn’t get to her fast enough.
She shut the door behind her and landed in my arms, resting her cheek against my chest.
“What happened, sugar bug?”
“I got hit in the face with a serving tray. It gave me a bloody nose, but I’m okay.”
“What?” I gently tipped her chin up. “You were bleeding?”
“You know how it is when something hits your nose. It doesn’t even have to hit very hard and suddenly there’s blood everywhere.”
She looked all right. No sign of bruising. “Sophie, I need you to be honest with me right now. It was really just a serving tray? Because if someone hurt you—”
“No.” She put her hand on the center of my chest. “It was a tray. The server tripped and I just happened to be in the way. Because, you know, of course I was. It’s me.”