Celestine took a quick step back, dodging the security guard who was reaching for her.
Her expression remained composed, not a flicker of panic showing as she fixed the arrogant waiter with a cold, steely gaze. “So if you throw me out, are you ready to deal with all the consequences–on your own?”
The waiter let out a laugh so loud and dismissive it was almost theatrical, nearly doubling over in mirth, unable to get his words out in a single breath.
“Yeah, right! Who do you think you are, huh? Some gold–digger threatening me? You’ve got to be kidding!”
His jeers were laced with the kind of brash insults Portside City was infamous for, his eyes alive with scorn and not a hint of fear. “Sure, I’ll take the blame. And just so you know, I’m a cousin of the Fordham family. I’m only working here for the experience. Did you really think I was in the same league as a fake socialite like you?”
He paused, running his eyes up and down her with a nasty glint in his narrow gaze. “Though, if you’re that desperate to get in and cozy up to someone important, you might as well beg me. Tell you what–out of the goodness of my heart, I’ll let you into my bed for five grand a night. For someone like you, that’s charity.”
The female attendant beside him suppressed her disgust, quietly putting some distance between them.
Celestine couldn’t help but laugh, the sound sharp as ice.
She shot back without missing a beat. “With equipment so pitiful you’d need a magnifying glass to find your self–esteem, I doubt anyone would be desperate enough to take you up on your offer.”
“Bitch! Don’t you know what’s good for you?” The waiter’s composure cracked, his hand trembling as he pointed at her. “What are you all standing around for? Throw this phony out!”
“Hold on.”
A sharply dressed man slipped in front of Celestine, blocking her from the guards.
“Ma’am,” he said smoothly, “you forgot your invitation.”
Celestine stared, momentarily stunned by Vernon’s sudden appearance. He shot her
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a quick, conspiratorial wink.
Regaining her composure, she accepted the gold–embossed invitation and flashed it at the ring of security guards.
“Are you certain you want to throw me out?”
The guards hesitated, uncertainty flickering in their eyes.
The waiter’s face flashed with panic, but he recovered quickly, crossing his arms and sneering at the pair. “Fake, obviously. You really went all out, hiring someone to play along with your little act. Do you think you can fool me?”
The female attendant stepped forward and carefully examined the invitation. After a moment, she looked up. “The invitation is genuine.”
“No way!” The waiter’s confidence wavered as he snatched the invitation, flipping to the last page with a triumphant smirk. “See? It says right here–the invite is for a Mr. Prescott. So, Miss Celestine, are you a Mr. Prescott now? Or did you forget your own fake identity? This is pathetic.”
Vernon’s jaw tightened.
That scumbag!
If this weren’t such a public place, he’d have given him a lesson he’d never forget.
The waiter sneered, “What, nothing to say? Cat got your tongue now that you’ve been caught? Take your counterfeit invitation and get lost. If you somehow manage to get through those doors tonight, I’ll crawl out of this hotel on my knees!”
“Oh? That’s quite a promise.”
The man who spoke wore a tailored grey suit, his presence cold as steel, his sharply defined features set in a stony mask. The look in his cool grey eyes sent a chill through the room.
The waiter shrank a little under that icy stare, but forced himself to swagger on. “And who the hell are you supposed to be? Another actor Miss Selwyn hired? I’ll give you this, you look the part. Bet that suit’s a knockoff, though. I can spot a fake a mile away.”
He was so pleased with himself, he didn’t notice the dangerous glint in the newcomer’s eyes.
Vernon quietly stepped aside to give his young master room.
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Please, young master, put this jerk in his place–aim for where it hurts most!
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