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“Suit yourself,” I muttered under my breath. There was no point arguing with a jerk, my mama used to say, and Mr. Williams was a first-class asshole.
Chapter Three
Sutton
I could feel Mr. Williams’ gaze on my body as I hurriedly went through the closing routine at the bar. Every time my eyes met his penetrating gray ones, I pretended that I didn’t notice him staring. But we both knew better.
I couldn’t help but recall the name he had suggested belonging to my father, Hollingsworth Sutton, III. Had my mother named me after him? It had a certain kind of poetic justice. I had spent my life hating my unusual first name and now I find out that it’s the legacy to a fortune. That is, if Mr. Williams was telling the truth. Which I hadn’t yet decided if I was going to believe him or not.
With another glance in his direction, I noticed the tightening of his lips as I bent down to pick something up off the floor. A part of me felt like giving him the universal salute of displeasure. I didn’t want him sitting there, judging me. I could just imagine the thoughts running through his mind. He was likely thinking about how utterly unsuitable I was for his world.
Well, he wouldn’t be wrong. Mr. Fancy Pants was clearly a Park Avenue player and I was nobody from Nowhere, USA. Shit, in my short cutoffs and worn out sneakers I likely could have passed for a kid in high school. Mr. Williams was all man, from the tips of his Italian leather shoes to his broad chest beneath that expertly tailored suit and his understated diamond cuff links.
As if diamonds were ever understated.
“I’ve got to cut out of here,” Joe called out to me from the kitchen, shaking me from my thoughts. “Maggie just called. The baby has a fever.”
I nodded in sympathy and pretended that Joe’s wife didn’t call every night with some excuse for him to leave early. Far be it from me to call the woman a liar, be she was terrible bender of the truth. It didn’t really matter. I liked Joe, he never flirted with me and tried to keep Gabriel off my back. With a smile, I waved him on like I always did. “Have a great night, Joe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Mr. Williams cleared his throat.
I turned to him. “Did you need something?”
I tried to ignore the way my pulse jumped when our eyes connected. He was just a handsome man, nothing else.
“Are you here by yourself?” he asked in that clipped tone of his that said boarding schools and brunch on Sundays in the Hamptons.
I raised a brow. “No, sadly you have made that quite impossible by not leaving when I asked you to.”
His jaw ticked. “Your boss is gone?”
I nodded, wondering what he was getting at.
“Good,” he said, standing up.
I couldn’t help myself. I took an involuntary step backward.
His face went blank and then paled. “I wouldn’t harm you.”
“Sure, you wouldn’t,” I replied in a hurry. In truth, I didn’t feel threatened by him. However, he was a lot taller than I had anticipated. Call it PTSD if you will, but I had learned the hard way in life about men who were bigger and stronger than I was.
If anything, he looked even more alarmed by my quick reply. “I assure you. I have never harmed a woman in my life.”
I picked up the mop that had begun to slide out of my grasp. “Well, that’s fantastic to hear. Why don’t you head back to…? Where are you staying, anyhow?”
He shrugged. “I will get a room at the motel.”
I couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped my lips. “You don’t want to stay there.”
He blinked in confusion. “Why?”
“Because you strike me as the sort of person who doesn’t care for bed bugs.”
“What?” He shook his head and then continued, “No, you can’t be serious.”
I took the mop and bucket and finished up the last section of floor as I spoke. “If it wasn’t so late, I could see if Reena and Alice could put you up. They have a spare room that they sometimes rent out.”
“The elderly women?” he asked.