Chapter 64

The man isn’t very tall, around five-foot-eight at most, and sort of stocky with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Leila is hauling him this way, like a dominatrix leading a gimp, and as they approach, I realize this must be Kurt. The delicate features and adoring way he’s gazing at her as she bullies him toward our table says it all. The guy has smitten written all over him and is in no way even attempting to battle down the wild Leila peeking out.

So not good for her at all.

She orders him to sit down icily, taking the seat next to his and slumps in her chair, downing three drinks in a row in the most alarming way. He tries to talk to her and she totally blanks him, far too intent on waving down the passing waitress for another drink by holding her empty one in the air. I’m too far across the table to warn her to slow down or throw her any kind of message, and I have no clue why she’s trying to get so drunk so quickly. At least they’ve removed my focus from the near-over