Page 186 of Trouble from Abroad
My accent slides straight into East London’s finest—fullLove Islandcontestant.
“’Xcuse me, babe?” I’m so in character I could pop an imaginary bubblegum bubble. “Youmean my fine piece-of-ass boyfriend? No, thanks. We can handle our own selfies.” I stroll back to Preston, giving her a once-over. She still doesn’t move, only gasps. I lay a possessive hand on his pec—God, the man is solid. “And stop checking out my man. Scurry on now.” I shoo her away with my free hand.
She leaves, and as soon as she’s out of earshot, I step back.
“Okay, in my defense, she was rude and way out of line. I saw how uncomfortable her stupid comment made you. I had to set her straight.”
“Iamold enough to be your father.”
“No, you’re not. Stop being weird. Thatwasnot about you. I look way younger than I am. Do you have any idea how many times I was mistaken for Liam’s kid? So demeaning.” I fake a laugh and change subjects fast. “Where are we going next?”
“Huh. Okay.” He huffs a laugh as fake. “There’s this bar a colleague of mine wouldn’t stop talking about. It’s supposed to have amazing views of the bridge. I thought we could watch the rest of the sunset there?”
“Lead the way, doc.” I’ll get his good humor back or get drunk trying.
* * *
We get to the bar and have to wait a bit before they can seat us somewhere with a proper view. Dr. Preston wouldn’t accept just any table.
The bar is on a rooftop, but not on one of those skyscraper buildings. It makes everything feel moreintimate, like you’re hovering just above the city, up close instead of miles above it.
Every wall is floor-to-ceiling glass, and I linger by one of them, watching the sky change colors over the bridge and Manhattan. I keep as far away as I can from the mean-girl club—loud, annoying, and also waiting for their table. They stare at me and whisper to each other. Not bothering much with discretion or my feelings.
Story of my life.
Preston comes over and stands close to me. “Our table is next. Just a few more minutes and we’ll be seated.” I exhale long and hard.
The loudest and drunkest mean girl—who looks like she stepped straight out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog—declares, “Oh, please. That’snother boyfriend. A hot guy like that with a girl that size?” Then she makes an exaggerated gagging noise and the whole gang laughs. Heat floods my face. I fix my eyes on the bridge and pretend I didn’t hear her, because reacting in front of Preston might kill me faster than the insult.
The doctor’s upper body jerks back, eyes horrified, hands flying out of his pockets. Oh, man. What a day. We should probably agree never to leave the house together. Although, it is kind of cute, the way we take offense on each other’s behalf.
He turns back to face me and catches my glossy eyes. I’ve mastered the art of not giving people the satisfaction of seeing me crack. No tear will fall. But there’s a flicker of rage in his. It’s gone in the next second.
“Love?” he says, a thumb and anindex finger under my chin, tipping my face up, turning my body to his in one swift move.
Best I can do is mumble a “Hmm?”
“This is the perfect place to celebrate our anniversary. Thank you for picking it. I still can’t believe you said yes a year ago. You make me the luckiest man alive.”
He kisses my forehead, pulls me closer and sways us side to side, his hands now resting dangerously low on my back. Resting my head on his pecs, I face the glass and let my what-the-hell-is-going-on manic expression run wild, hoping he can’t feel my heartbeat thundering against his chest.
I might have gone deaf on shock, but I can’t hear a peep from the women behind us anymore.
After an eternity of rocking in Preston’s arms, the hostess comes to get us. The doctor leads the way, never letting go of my hand. Part of me wants to turn around and blow raspberries at those bitches, but I get distracted by the way his thumb draws slow circles on my palm.
As soon as we reach the table, he releases my hand and pulls out my stool. Is this still part of the act? My brain is bouncing around my skull.
“Was that too much?” he asks quietly. “I was trying to return the favor.” He pauses, then shakes his head. “No, that’s bullshit. I was outraged. I would not, in a million years, let that pass.” Fury hardens his gaze again. If he keeps going like this, foam will be coming out of his mouth next. “What is wrong with people? Don’t they have filters anymore? Don’t they care about anyone else?”
I’m not about to break the bad news to him. I don’t have the heart.
“If that had been a man? He’d be missing teeth and bleeding on the floor right now.” He presses his fists into his eye sockets. “I know. I can hear myself. That’s wrong, sexist, and not what I want to teach my daughter, but so help me God, it’s the truth.”
His hands drop to the table, his focus zeroing in on me. The next hit lands squarely in my chest. “No one gets to speak about you like that, Mia. No one.”
I lay my hands over his, fighting a stupid smile. “Breathe, Preston.”
Preston. Oh, brilliant. I forgot to addDoctor. He’s so flustered I don’t think he even notices.
