Felicity strode over, her face icy and stormy, just in time to see Vivian bowing repeatedly to Harrison.
“I’m so sorry, truly, I’m so sorry–I got your shoes dirty,” Vivian stammered, then dropped to her knees, clutching a towel, desperate to wipe the mess off Harrison’s shoes.
In her flustered haste, Vivian didn’t notice the shards of broken glass scattered on the floor. The moment her knees hit the ground, sharp pain shot through her–glass had sliced into her skin, and blood began to well up.
“Ah!” she cried out, collapsing onto the floor, her wide eyes fixed in horror on her bloodied knee, a jagged piece of glass still embedded in it.
Harrison looked down at her, his expression unreadable, utterly unmoved by her distress. Her entire act–every tremble, every flinch–was painfully transparent.
Vivian lifted her head, tears brimming in her eyes, staring up at Harrison like a terrified rabbit, trembling and helpless. For a fleeting moment, from a certain angle, the woman kneeling there looked uncannily like Selene at eighteen.
“Oh my god, you’re bleeding! Come on, get up,” Felicity said sharply. She reached down and grabbed Vivian’s arm, trying to pull her to her feet.
But as Vivian saw Felicity, panic overtook her. She kicked and flailed, her voice rising into a frantic shriek. “No, no, let go of me! Don’t come near me!”
Vivian recoiled, jerking her arm free, struggling wildly, her cries growing louder and more desperate. “Don’t touch me! Please, Miss Thompson, don’t hit me! I swear, I haven’t done anything–I didn’t try to seduce anyone!”
Her wailing echoed through the room, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. Well–dressed guests, who’d been content to ignore the clumsy waitress’s mishap, now turned to watch the commotion.
Under their scrutiny, Felicity froze, momentarily stunned. For a split second, she thought–was this Vivian’s plan all along? To make a spectacle in front of Harrison, and lure her right into the trap? The damsel in distress act–could it be payback for that time she’d roughed Vivian up?
Felicity’s lips curled into a wry smile. She spread her legs, crouched down, and rested her elbows on her knees, adopting the casual, swaggering posture of a man.
11.96
Chapter
She leaned in and gave Vivian’s cheek a gentle pat, narrowing her eyes. “Hey there. sweetheart, what’s got you so worked up? I’m not like those awful men–I’d never hurt you.”
Her tone was soothing, but her actions weren’t. In the next instant, Felicity’s hand clamped firmly around Vivian’s waist.
Vivian stiffened–she was trapped now, Felicity’s grip unyielding. Felicity glanced at the bloody mess on Vivian’s knee, already imagining what it would look like if all those shards went in even deeper.
“Look at you, bleeding everywhere. Come on, let me carry you to get cleaned up,” Felicity said, one arm circling Vivian’s waist, the other moving purposefully under her knees.
“Don’t touch me! Please, Miss Thompson, don’t hurt me! I can walk by myself!” Vivian pleaded, squirming to escape, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Her nose pink, she looked heartbreakingly fragile, sobbing as if her world had ended. Pathetic, Felicity thought bitterly.
From the sidelines, someone called out, “Miss Thompson, why is she so scared of you? You didn’t actually hit her before, did you?”
A flash of annoyance crossed Felicity’s eyes, but she responded with effortless bravado. “Of course not! I’ve always been a gentleman to her. She’s probably just scared of Harrison! Who wouldn’t be, with that funeral–parlor face of his? He’s got no idea how to comfort a lady–guess it’s up to me, isn’t it?”
