Page 54

He looks up at me, blinks once, twice, before his eyes fill with recognition. Shit, he’s plastered.
“Alright, I won’t,” he mutters, reaching for the half-filled bottle.
I grab it out of his hands immediately. “What is wrong with you, Sterling?”
That seems to draw the attention of the bartender, a middle-aged man with a brown mustache and kind eyes.
“Hey, honey. You here to pick him up?” he questions.
“Yeah,” I say, forcing a small smile. “How long has he been like this?”
“A while now. He walked in here about two hours ago and asked for two bottles. I thought he was joking until he started throwing back glass after glass. Never seen someone consume that much in so little time.”
I glare at the man in question and apart from the look in his eyes, he looks the same. Nothing about him screams drunk person.
“How high is your tolerance, Tin Man?” I can’t help but ask.
“Too fucking high,” he replies lowly.
The bartender watches our exchange with a smile. “You his girlfriend or something?”
“No,” I grit out. “I’m his assistant.”
“He must be a pretty good boss if you came all the way down here to get him.”
“He’s not.” Sterling looks like he’s about to fall asleep so I sigh before reaching for my purse. “Let me pay for the drinks so we can get out of here.”
The kind bartender nods, accepting my card. He’s printing out the receipt when someone stumbles into me from behind. I whirl around to find one of the beer-bellied patrons standing or should I say swaying on his feet behind me.
“Hey, sweetheart. I’m Crane,” he slurs with a wide-toothed grin.
“Can I help you?” I ask carefully.
“Was just wondering if you wanted to ditch the asshat in the suit and come back home with me,” he suggests, blue eyes moving down the length of my body.
My lips curl in distaste. “No.”
He takes a step forward. “Come on, pretty girl. I promise I’ll take care of you.”
I hear the sound of a chair being pushed back right before someone shoves Crane in the chest, causing him to fall to the ground. With wide eyes, I turn to look at Sterling.
“Leave her the fuck alone,” he growls.
Crane’s a coward because he immediately scrambles away, heading back to his seat and his pathetic bottle of beer. Once he’s gone, Sterling looks at me, his expression slightly warmer.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I reply, a little rattled. “Let’s just get out of here.”
He stumbles a little when he tries to take a step and I’m just glad for a sign that all that alcohol he consumed has actually had an effect on him. He doesn’t protest when I slide my hand under his shoulders to help him stand straight, and after thanking the bartender, we leave.
Once we’re in my car, I exhale a soft breath. Sterling’s in the driver’s seat, looking straight ahead and blinking rapidly likehe’s trying to stave off sleep. I can tell he’s really close to losing that battle though.
“I don’t think we can drive back to Edenton tonight,” I start, wondering if he can even hear me. “We could drive into the city. Maybe stay over at Carson’s place until morning?”
He sits up at that, eyes suddenly alert. “That can’t happen. Your brother will murder me if he finds out about this.”
I groan. He’s right. “Then what do you want me to do, Sterling?”