Once Matthew was upon us, he flung his hand, aiming for the stranger's face, but just like before, the man dodged the blow with infuriating ease. In one fluid motion, he pulled himself off of me, reached out and grabbed Matthew's wrist, then twisted it until it was wrenched behind his back.
I watched with wild eyes as Matthew groaned in pain and was shoved forward like a rag doll. His men stood frozen in the doorway, mouths agape.
"What are you guys waiting for?!" I yelled in desperation.
And then, God help me, I lunged for the stranger a second time.
Why I didn't learn the first time was beyond me. Let's just say I was defending Matthew. Or maybe I'd completely lost my mind. Either seemed equally possible at this point.
Just like before, the stranger swiftly turned and pinned me by my shoulders to the wall. His hazel eyes locked onto mine with so much intensity that made my breath hitch.
"Enough!" he barked, the single word reverberating through the room.
That really got me frightened. He wasn't loud. It was the sheer *authority* in his voice that rattled me. It was the kind of command that made your body obey before your brain could catch up.
Matthew turned around, ready to attack again, but one of his men grabbed his arm and pulled him back forcefully.
"Matt, that's not an intruder,” the guard said.
Matthew creased his brows and stared, perplexed, from his men to the man who still had me pinned to the wall.
My heart did a backflip, a deep dive, a somersault, you name it. Every acrobatic maneuver possible was happening inside my chest.
The owner of this room wasn't supposed to arrive until next Wednesday, two days before the fundraiser. I'd checked my records. I'd triple-checked them, actually, because Mr. Scott had drilled it into us that we couldn't afford any mistakes.
Unless… he'd come ahead of schedule?
But the records should have been updated, right? I mean, I'd checked right before entering the room to make sure I wouldn't be walking in on a guest.
The security guards had to be wrong. They had to be.
"He comes here for business," the guard continued. "We know him as Mr. T."
Matthew's eyes widened in recognition, but he still had that murderous look fixed on the stranger, on Mr. T, as if recognition didn't change the fact that I was being manhandled.
I went limp against the wall, my thumping heart finally giving out, as if it were saying, You're done for, Leah. Completely and utterly done for.
I looked from Matthew to the man standing in front of me. He was still staring intently at me, but now it felt different. His brows were creased, his gaze moving from one of my eyes to the other, as if he were trying to solve a puzzle written across my face.
I could almost hear the gears turning in his head.
He was probably thinking of ways to get back at me for humiliating him. For attacking him. Twice.
I was literally done for. I was speechless and brainless at that point. My head couldn't form any coherent thoughts. It kept spinning in useless circles, making me dizzy and nauseous.
"Being a guest doesn't mean he should hold our staff inappropriately," Matthew spat.
"Matthew, stop," I managed to say.
What should I do?
Should I pretend I was drunk and collapse dramatically? No…that would mean I'd been drinking during work hours. I'd be fired all the same.
Should I pretend I was sick instead? Say the medication I took made me hallucinate and act erratically?
Before I could settle on a plan, I felt his grip loosen. I looked up at him again, my pulse still racing. He slowly dropped his hands from my shoulders and took several steps back.
"I was…" I started, scrambling for an explanation, an apology, anything!
"Get out," he said in that low voice, that felt more terrifying than yelling. "All of you."
It was as if my feet had a mind of their own, because they wouldn't budge. I stood there, rooted to the spot, still stunned by everything that had just happened. The adrenaline was draining from my body, leaving me hollow and shaky.
Plus, there was the very real fact that I was most likely going to get fired. Maybe even arrested.
I forced my feet to move and slowly trudged forward, each step feeling like I was wading through wet cement. My legs were weak and heavy all at once, trembling beneath me. At one point, they gave out entirely, and I lost my footing.
Matthew caught me mid-fall, his arm wrapping around my waist to steady me.
"Are you okay?" he whispered in a gentle voice even as he sent daggers over his shoulder at Mr. T.
"Mmhmm," I nodded, though it was a lie. Nothing about this was okay.
He guided me out of the room, his hand on my elbow, keeping me upright. The other guards followed behind us, and I could feel Mr. T's gaze burning into my back the entire way.
Once we were in the hallway and the door clicked shut behind us, reality crashed over me like a tidal wave.
Oh God. Matthew was in danger too.
He'd attacked a guest. A VIP guest. Someone important enough that security knew him by name, or initial, at least.
And it was all my fault.
"I'm sorry, Matt," I said, my throat tightening as tears filled my eyes. I blinked rapidly, trying to keep them from falling. "I'm so, so sorry."
"Leah…"
"I should have listened to you," I continued in a shaky voice. "Now you'll be in trouble because of me. You could lose your job. God, Matthew, I'm so…"
"Leah," he said firmly, cutting me off. He turned me to face him, placing his hands on my shoulders. "I would do it all over again for you."
I smiled sadly at his kindness, my vision blurring with unshed tears. Matthew had always been there for me since I started working here a few months ago. He'd been on my side from day one, showing me around, making me feel comfortable, defending me when other staff gossiped or made snide remarks about the new girl.
I couldn't let him lose his job because of my bad decisions.
I needed to do something. Fast!
"I have to fix this," I said, pulling away from him and wiping at my eyes. "I have to go back in there and…"
"Leah, no." Matthew grabbed my arm. "You're not going back in there."
"I'll talk to him," I said, "I'll explain. I'll apologize. I'll do whatever it takes.
Matthew looked like he wanted to argue, but one of the other guards cleared his throat.
"Leah, you should probably go home for the night," he said carefully. "Let things cool down. Mr. Scott will handle it in the morning."
Mr. Scott!
Oh God, Mr. Scott was going to have a field day with this.
I nodded numbly, knowing there was no point in arguing. I was too exhausted, too overwhelmed to fight anymore.
But as I walked toward the elevator, my mind was already spinning with plans.
I had to fix this. For Matthew.