Having found my peace, I drift off into a dreamless sleep.
Before Hana, I never mixed business with pleasure.
Pulling up to the entrance of the country club, I stop the car. Climbing out, I hand the keys to the valet before opening the passenger door. Hana gets out, a vision in a pale pink summer dress.
Taking hold of her hand, I link our fingers, and then I press a kiss to the back of her hand. “Let’s get this over with, so I have you for myself.”
A beautiful smile graces Hana’s lips as we walk into the country club. I lead her to the hall reserved for the business luncheon. There’s one every six months where we lay down our swords and interact as civil human beings.
I’m here to assess them when they don’t have their guards up.
I let out a dark chuckle.
“What?” Hana asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
When we enter the hall, I check where we’re seated.
Hmm… Mr. and Mrs. Ellison. Pleasant people. Mr. Page and whoever’s the flavor of the day. Bearable.
I lead Hana to the table and pull out the chair next to Mrs. Ellison for her. Shaking everyone’s hands, I introduce my better half, “Hana Cutler, my girlfriend.”
“Dear, what a lovely dress,” Mrs. Ellison compliments Hana.
“Thank you.” Hana gives the woman a grateful smile. “I love your broach. Such an elegant design of the lotus flower.”
There’s a burst of pride in my chest as I watch Hana take a seat. She and Mrs. Ellison fall into a conversation about everything eastern. Turning my attention to Mr. Ellison, I ask, “How’s the sporting world treating you?”
The elderly man lets out a booming chuckle. “The one minute you’re the king of the world, and the next you’re pig feed. Same old, same old.”
“Always a challenge,” I agree.
“We manage.”
A waiter comes to take our drink orders, and I get two sparkling waters for Hana and myself.
Mr. Ellison and I begin to talk sports stats, and I even manage to tolerate Mr. Page’s know-it-all interruptions.
The brunette at his side is another story. Her fucking eyes are glued to me, and out of respect for Hana, I lock eyes with the woman. All it takes is one glare and a shake of my head for her to turn her attention to her partner.
Relaxing back in my chair, I place my hand on Hana’s thigh and continue to enjoy Mr. Ellison’s company.
After we’ve had lunch, I press a kiss to Hana’s temple. “Stay here. I’m just going to talk to a couple of people.”
Hana nods and smiles at me before she turns her attention back to Mrs. Ellison.
Getting up, I walk to where Mr. Yinglin is standing by the bar. He’s at the top of the food chain when it comes to the shipping industry.
When I move in beside him, and his gaze turns to me, his eyebrows lift. “Mr. Hayes.”
While we discuss the terms of the deal we’re working on, I keep glancing at the table to ensure Hana’s okay.
When my gaze searches for her again, and I see her chair’s empty, I instantly say, “Give me a moment, please.”
“Of course.”
I walk to the table, and forcing a smile to my face, I ask, “Mrs. Ellison, do you know where Hana went?”
“The restroom, dear.”
“Thank you.” I walk back to the bar so I can continue the meeting.
Chapter 13
HANA
After washing my hands, I swipe on some lipgloss.
Mrs. Ellison reminds me of my grandmother on my father’s side, making the lunch quite enjoyable.
Walking out of the restroom, a man sways on his feet as he walks toward me. It takes me a moment to recognize him.
Ugh. Mr. Ballmer.
I move closer to the wall so I don’t pass too close to him. It doesn’t help because he staggers into me. The blow of his much larger body is painful, and I stumble back before I’m able to regain my balance.
Not again!
A nauseating stench of alcohol wafts into my face as he mumbles, “So sorry.”
A sliver of apprehension ripples up my spine, and I quickly step back and to the side so he can pass.
“Wait. Ahhh… Miss Cutler,” he chuckles drunkenly.
“Mr. Ballmer,” I mutter, not in the mood for him.
He holds his left arm up, and I cringe back when I see there’s nothing left of his hand but a stub. “I lost this because of you.”
A frown instantly forms on my brow. “You’re drunk.”
He nods a couple of times. “I also lost my life’s work because of you.” He lets out a hopeless sounding chuckle. “I lost everything, and I didn’t even get to have you.”
My heart begins to beat faster as I ask, “What?”
He moves faster than I thought was possible for his size, and using his obscene weight, he shoves me painfully against the wall. I don’t know if it’s denial or delayed shock, but it takes me a moment to catch up to what’s happening.
Panic floods my veins, sending my heartbeat into overdrive. My mind begins to race with ways I can get him off me.
Dropping my clutch, I bring my hands up and try to push him away from me. I’m instantly filled with disgust from having to touch him. “Get away from me!” My shriek is muted by his large size smothering me.
His right hand begins to claw at my breasts, his touch sloppy and greedy, and it fills me with shame and revulsion. His mouth slobbers up my neck, making the bitter taste of bile push up my throat.
My stomach lurches, and I push at him with all my strength, but he doesn’t budge. “Move,” I cry, but it’s again muted by his body.
He begins to rub against me, squashing me painfully hard against the rough wall. A suffocating feeling tightens my chest.
“Just a kiss.” He puckers his gross lips, and I instantly try to yank my face away from his reach, banging my head hard against the wall. It’s like I’m trying to fight a mountain of fat that weighs a ton.
His alcohol-drenched spit coats my jaw with slime. The stench makes it hard to breathe, and my eyes water.
Feeling his slimy tongue lick at the corner of my mouth and his meaty hand clawing at my thigh as he tries to get between my legs, I let out a muffled shriek.
Desperately, I squeeze down and manage to worm myself past layers of fat. Dropping to the floor, I crawl through the small opening between his large legs until I’m a distance away. Shooting to my feet, I watch as he slides down the wall until he tumbles onto the tiles, and then I hear him whine, “He destroyed me… He took everything… Because of you.”
I dart back and grab my clutch. I tremble violently as I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth and jaw, and again bile pushes up my throat as I feel the revolting spit sticking to my skin. I try to straighten my hair and regain control over my rampant heartbeat and breaths as I rush away from the hallway.
Only when I’m a safe distance from the drunk man does the shock of what just happened hit. I gasp, and placing my hand over my stomach, I try to breathe through the wave of disgust.
Feeling filthy, I know I can’t let Tristan see me like this. I rush to the entrance, and with a quivering voice, I ask the valet to arrange a ride for me.
My eyes keep darting between the lobby and the road, praying my ride will arrive before Tristan comes to look for me.