Page 73 of Trapped for Christmas

“Absolutely. I’m doing this for my man.”

A soft, gooey look appeared on Ryder’s face as he talked about the same man he had just used the word “pounding” about in front of his friends. Zeb couldn’t help but laugh. Mason shook his head and gave a “don’t encourage him” look. They walked into the private room. Catherine would probably assume she was being given special treatment. Mason just didn’t want his guests in the main restaurant to be disturbed.

“Oh my God,” screamed Sapphire. “It’s Ryder Quinn.”

“Sit down, Sapphire,” snapped Catherine.

Her spoiled daughter ignored her. “Can I get a picture with you? That waiter can take it.” She pointed at Zeb.

He prickled at first, but then struggled to hold down a laugh.

“I do love to make my fans happy,” said Ryder, with his celebrity smile plastered on.

Sapphire looked as if all her Christmases had come at once. She thrust her phone at Zeb, who didn’t take it. He just stared at her as if she were nothing, because that’s what she was to him. Zeb didn’t give a shit about whether people were rich, influential, titled, or whatever privilege it was that made them think they were above others. Zeb liked good people, and that’s not what these were.

“Take the phone and do your job, waiter.”

“He’s not a waiter,” said Mason calmly. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“What?” said Sapphire and Catherine in unison.

“Yes, I was taking a break with him and wasn’t able to be here for your party, Catherine. It’s a shame you decided not to go ahead. The other parties we held at the weekend were happy with their events.”

“You said you were snowed in at your cabin.”

“We were, but the roads were clear for Saturday. There was nothing important to rush back for, so we stayed a couple more days.”

Catherine’s face went bright red. “You canceled my party for this . . . this gold digger?”

Zeb snorted. There were many reasons he was with Mason, but his money wasn’t one of them.

“How dare you laugh at me,” she said. “This can’t be your . . . partner. I mean, look at him.”

“I do look at him, all the time. He’s hot,” said Mason, making Zeb’s face heat.

“I’ll be letting people know about this. They won’t support this . . . whatever this is,” she said, looking at Zeb with contempt.

Before Cherry Falls, he might have recoiled from her words, but Mason had prepped him for this as well. The woman was just digging her own grave, and Zeb would have fun pushing her in.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Catherine. I came here to offer you a gift to clear the air after last weekend, but if you’re going to be abusive to my boyfriend, you’re no longer welcome at Epicure. That extends to your entire family.”

“What? You’re being ridiculous. You can’t stop me from coming here. Do you know how many business lunches and dinners my husband has here? How many customers you have because of our recommendations?”

“If these associates of yours share the same views, they’re not welcome either.”

“Mason, see things from our perspective. This man doesn’t have the right breeding.”

Ryder snorted, and Mason glared at him. Zeb was struggling not to laugh as well. It was like watching one of those online dramas he had lost many an hour to. You had to look away as the idiotic rich woman kept making things worse for herself, meaning the fallout would be even more spectacular.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Mason, his voice cold.

The glare on his face was kind of hot. He wondered if Mason would be up for some role-play later and then stopped his wandering thoughts before he got hard. He locked eyes with Ryder, who winked at him with a smile. The man had clearly read his mind.

“He’s probably just some street hustler Mason hired to play a part,” said Sapphire.

“Excuse me?” said Mason, his tone darkening further. “I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Just what are you implying?” asked Catherine, her voice pitched higher.