“Go ahead,” Justin replied. “No, wait. I’ll do it.” He straightened and glanced across the lobby to the uniformed man standing near the slot machines. When Justin raised a hand and gestured, the security guard started toward them.
“You will regret this,” Layla said with a slight smile. Because she was not as drunk as he seemed to think.
“Hey, how’s it going,” the guard said, breaking into a smile as he clapped Justin on the arm.
Layla groaned.
“The wife was so happy with the anniversary party,” Mr. Security continued. “She told me she was glad we went with you guys instead of the other caterer she’d chosen. For once I was right.”
“Great,” Justin said, smiling back. “I was wondering if you have any of the emergency hotel rooms available.”
“Robert has a room,” Layla muttered. “But I am not staying there.” Justin touched her back reassuringly as the guard shook his head.
“Not one. Mind Breakers are big.”
“So,” Justin continued smoothly, “if Ms. Taylor here is feeling a bit…ill, it’d be best if I took her home?”
The guard’s dark eyebrows drew together. “As opposed to…”
“Her hanging out somewhere in the hotel waiting to sober up?”
Oh, great mental picture. Layla stood abruptly, hitting her thigh on the edge of the table. It scooted sideways with a screech of metal on tile, and the room swam once she was vertical. She automatically reached out and clutched Justin’s shoulder. It was either that or go down.
All her arguments about being fine and not needing him to butt into her life evaporated when the guard’s face wavered in front of her. Oh, boy.
“Take her home, Justin,” the man said. Layla kept her mouth shut as she fought to regain her balance.
Justin settled a hand on her waist to help steady her, and she felt the warmth of his fingers through the thin silk of her black dress. But she didn’t move away, because she couldn’t.
Robert-1. Justin-1. Layla-0.
Double-teamed in the worst way. Hell, if she counted the gin, she’d been triple-teamed.
“Hey, Miss Taylor!” A teenage voice penetrated the fog and she moved her head to the left, focusing on the group of people passing in the hall, headed toward the concert venue. Students. Her students. She forced the corners of her mouth up, but was not so foolish as to try to speak. Or wave, since she was still hanging on to Justin.
She glanced down at the bench, wondering how a few feet of altitude could make her head spin so nastily. She had to do something. Mind Breakers were big and several of her rather privileged students were likely here in the hotel. Along with their deep-pocketed parents.
“Get me out of here,” she muttered to Justin, without looking at him. “Please,” she added, just to make her humiliation total and complete.
LAYLA©WAS©TRYING©HARD©TO©WALK without leaning on him. She was losing the battle. Justin didn’t know how many martinis she’d downed after receiving the happy news that her boyfriend was sleeping around, but he knew from experience that the bartenders at this particular hotel didn’t play coy with the booze. They charged a lot for a drink and they delivered.
What Justin wanted to know was whether Robert had abandoned her at the bar after she’d found out he was sleeping with the “trollop,” or if she’d stormed out of their room and taken refuge in the bar while waiting for Sam. Because if Robert had abandoned her, drunk as she was…well, Justin might have to do something about that.
They stepped out the front doors onto the freshly shoveled sidewalk. The snow had let up a little since he’d come into the hotel, but it wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. Just a lull.
Layla clamped a hand to her stomach, and Justin stopped walking. If she was going to be sick, he’d prefer it wasn’t in his car.
“I’m fine,” she said in a brittle voice as she took a resolute step forward. Justin moved with her, only to have her stop dead a few seconds later and look around wildly. He steered her off the sidewalk, through the snow and as far around the giant juniper bush flanking the walkway as he could before she heaved. She swung at him when he tried to get hold of her hair, so he let go of her and stepped aside, allowing her to commune with the bush. When she sat back on her heels and drew in a shaky breath, he held out a hand. She clutched his fingers, allowed him to help her up, but she didn’t look at him.
“I…feel a little better.”
Justin shook his head and, after brushing the wet snow off her knees and the front of her black wool coat, helped her back to the sidewalk. People had paused to watch the spectacle, but now moved on. Show’s over, folks. Nothing to see here.
He and Layla started for the car again, which was parked in the employee lot, even though Justin wasn’t an employee of this particular hotel. Layla was walking better now that she’d emptied her stomach, and Justin hoped she had no memory of puking in the bush in front of a crowd, because, tight-ass that she was, she wouldn’t be able to handle it.
“Layla!”
She stopped dead, her entire body going stiff at the sound of the man’s voice calling her name. Then she turned with what sounded like a growl to face the guy jogging lightly toward them through the snow. He stopped a few feet away, eyeing Justin suspiciously. “Who are you?”
“Old family friend. Here to help pick up the pieces. You must be the Robert I’ve heard so much about.”
“Is he?” Robert asked Layla. “A family friend?”
“Who he is…is none of your business,” she said with an air of dignity and only the slightest slur.
Robert grimaced. “How much have you had to drink?”
Justin’s jaw slid sideways and he took a step toward the guy. “Since you walked out on her, you mean?”
“I’m not talking to you.”
“But I can’t help hearing the conversation.”
“I’m not going to have her driving off this mountain in a snowstorm with someone I don’t know.” Robert fished in his pocket. “I hadn’t realized you didn’t have the room key,” he said to Layla, holding it out to her. “Take it. You can spend the night as planned. Your overnight bag is in the room.”
Layla stared down at the plastic card, then slowly raised her eyes to Robert’s face. He continued to hold the key, giving it a slight shake as if encouraging her to take it. She pulled in a breath that made her shoulders rise a good inch, then drew back her arm and punched him square in the jaw.
He stumbled backward as she lost her balance and went down. Justin made a grab for her, grunting when her elbow smacked into his cheekbone with a healthy crack.
“Oh, shit…” Tears sprang to his eyes as Layla slowly struggled to her hands and knees, and finally, her feet. She stared at Justin in horror as he stood with his hand over his eye. Five
