Chapter 2

Only Isla and Damien were left standing in the middle of the floor, along with a woman the staff were pinning down. She was clearly drunk, but even restrained, she wasn't backing off, jabbing a finger toward Isla's face.

"What's your deal? You're some kind of cougar now? Who even are you to him? Who are you to decide who he leaves with?

"He's here working as an escort and you're going to act all high and mighty about it? Don't tell me he's your little kept—"

The insult never landed. Isla shoved past the people holding her back, stepped forward, and drove a vicious kick straight into the woman's stomach. She crumpled to the floor, curling up and howling in pain.

Isla stood over her and let out a cold, quiet laugh.

"You think you get to put your hands on my Damien? You must have a death wish."

Security rushed in and hauled the woman toward the exit, but even then she craned her neck back and spat in Isla's direction.

"Guess I hit the nail on the head! All that hugging and clinging, anyone with eyes can see something's going on between you two!

"Fine, my bad. I picked an escort who's already taken!"

Her voice trailed off as they dragged her out.

Isla's eyes followed the woman out, and that was when her gaze landed on me. She froze. The aggression drained from her face instantly, and her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Damien pulled her into his arms, his eyes rimmed red.

"Isla, why would you do that? It's fine!

"I just wanted to pay you back. I was trying to earn some extra cash on the side. I didn't know the people here would be this terrible."

Isla had started to move toward me, but Damien caught her, and she stopped. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she just stood there while he clung to her and cried.

The bar manager hurried over with a nervous smile plastered across his face.

"Ms. Farrow, if you'd told us Damien was yours, we never would have brought him on. This is all just a big misunderstanding!

"Damien, why don't you head home with Ms. Farrow and talk it over? I'm sure a little money like this is nothing to her."

Damien nodded, wiped his tears, and looked at Isla hopefully.

"Isla, I promise I'll find a real job and pay you back. I won't make things difficult for you and Nate. I'm sorry."

The words were barely out of his mouth when Isla's assistant walked in, spotted me, and let out a startled gasp.

"Mr. Ellison?"

Every pair of eyes in the room swung toward me.

I stood right where I was, watching the two of them with something halfway between a smile and a sneer. It seemed to finally dawn on Isla what was happening, because she shoved Damien away and rushed to my side.

"Nate, let's go home and talk about this."

I pulled my hand free and let out a scornful laugh.

"Home? Your home with him, or ours?"

That got people's attention. The whispers started up around us.

"Wait, I know him. That's Ms. Farrow's fiance. What's his name... Nate Ellison? Is this some kind of caught-in-the-act situation?"

"Oh, come on. It's obviously a love triangle. A fiance isn't a husband. Someone like Ms. Farrow having a boyfriend on the side is hardly shocking."

"And Damien's not exactly hard on the eyes, either. Young, handsome... Can you really blame her?"

The voices kept getting louder, and Isla's expression kept getting worse. She grabbed my hand again and was about to say something, but Damien's sobbing cut her off.

He rushed up, ducked his head and looked at me, voice cracking as he pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Nate. I heard you and Isla were fighting because she sponsors me, so I came back early to try to earn some money and pay her back faster. I didn't want you two fighting because of me."