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He’d turned up before her, proceeded to drink while hitting on Sally, my bartender who took no crap, before slinking off to his table. He was only there for a few minutes when Bethany turned up.

Fuck me.

She was beautiful; I knew that. I had admired her from afar, but when she turned up wearing a skintight dress that was molded to her every curve, my mouth went dry. The little red number, falling just below the curve of her ass and dipping inthe front to expose ample cleavage, left next to nothing to the imagination.

I’d never seen so much of her skin on display. Naturally, when she was at the ice rink, she covered up because it was freezing. Knowing that she had an amazing body was one thing, but seeing it firsthand made my brain short-circuit.

“Boss?” Sally asked as I gaped after Bethany while a waiter guided her to the table where the asshole was waiting. “Are you okay?”

I mentally shook myself. “Of course I’m okay.”

Sally chuckled, grabbing a glass from behind the bar. “Sure thing. If your mouth was open any longer, you were going to start catching flies. Do you know her?”

I contemplated lying, saying that I had never seen Bethany before in my life, but Sally would be able to see right through me. “She’s Joey’s ice-skating instructor.”

Sally nodded. “Well, she’s beautiful. She’s turned the head of every single male and most of the females since she entered this building.”

I didn’t need reminding of that. I was already painfully aware.

“Have you seen the guy before?” I asked.

Sally frowned. “Yeah, sadly. He regularly brings girls here for first dates, usually omegas, and they rarely last long. He isn’t exactly a ray of sunshine. Judging by his past actions, this is probably a first date.”

“I don’t like that,” I grumbled.

“That it’s a date?” Sally asked, cocking an eyebrow.

I cleared my throat. “No, that he’s a serial dater. Bethany is a friend. If this guy is an asshole…” I frowned. “Did he not pick her up?”

That was utter bullshit—yes, I was unhappy, but it wasn’t because I was worried about her as my daughter’s ice-skating teacher.

I was mad that she had made all that effort to look mouthwateringly good and it was being wasted on him. He didn’t deserve her, not at all. In between helping Sally at the bar, I glanced over at their table. Whenever he looked at her, his eyes were firmly homed in on her chest.

The shithead couldn’t even be bothered to look her in the eye.

Bethany was no fool. She clearly wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation either. She kept glancing away, fiddling with the napkin in her lap. Her body language was far from engaged; in fact, judging by the way her eyes kept glancing at the exits, she wanted out.

“Sometimes a girl just needs to figure out for herself that a guy is a dud,” Sally said.

I grumbled in response. Bethany was a sensible girl. She would surely realize he was worthless and ditch her date.

“Oh, Wallet Wanker is back,” Chris said as he emerged from the cellar, his eyes glancing over at Bethany’s table.

“That’s him?” Sally asked.

I glanced between the pair of them. It wasn’t unusual for us to give patrons nicknames, but Wallet Wanker was a new one. I had to assume Chris had come up with it, considering he was an aspiring actor and reveled in using British slang in his… well, frankly, horrible English accent.

“Explain,” I growled. Yes, I was being terse, but if this was pertinent to Bethany, it was pertinent to me.

Sally grimaced, pouring a few shots and handing them to a patron before turning back to me. “There’s this guy who’s been bringing girls here for dates, and he alwaysforgetsto bring his wallet and makes them pay for it.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I said. Walking up to the till, I pulled up their table number. He had ordered an expensive bottle of wine and several expensive appetizers.

“He sometimes pays—I kind of get the impression he pays if he thinks the girl is going to, you know…” Chris waggled his eyebrows.

I was mad before, but now I was livid.

How had Bethany managed to find such a paragon of chivalry? She certainly didn’t look thrilled. As he went on and on about himself, she gave him a cool, level stare. Couldn’t he tell she wasn’t at all engaged? Or did he simply not care?