There are a few gasps from the crowd, followed by some murmuring.
Shayla doesn’t miss a beat. “Get out. Don’t come back. You’re fired, Paul.”
“The fuck?” He stumbles forwards a few steps. “You can’t do that. You can’t! It’s...illegal!”
“You’re still on your three month probationary period. I can fire you whenever I want, and Iwantto fire you now. Get out.”
“You’re a bitch!” Paul nearly screams. “You’ve always been such a bitch to me. I worked fucking hard at this job, you know!”
Shayla just stands there with her arms crossed.
“You know what? Fine. I quit. This place is a...ashitholeanyway.”
Everyone edges away from him like he’s carrying a disease as he lurches through the crowd. He stops suddenly and turns to face someone. I can’t see who it is from where I’m standing, but when he starts to speak loud enough for the whole room to hear, it isn’t hard to guess.
“You’re a bitch like her, you know? You pretend you’re this, like...sweet little thing, being all shy and cute and stuff, but it’s bullshit. You’re just playing the fucking field. You were using me, and I didn’t even get anything out of it. Frigidbitch.”
Cole’s hand digs into my bicep just as I’m about to charge.
“Cool it,” he grumbles.
The rest of the room is silent for a moment until I see Stéphanie step forwards, getting right up in Paul’s face. He has enough sense to move back a few inches.
“The only bitch I see here is you,” she says loudly. “Va t’en, asshole.”
Somebody whoops, and that’s all it takes for the whole room to turn into an angry mob, shouting Paul out of the building. The music starts blaring again—an appropriately raging track—and the party atmosphere kicks up several notches higher than it’s been all night.
I don’t feel it, though. I spot Stéphanie leading Molly away from the dance floor with her arm around her shoulders, and all I want to do is run to her, but Shayla and Cole block my way.
“We’re getting you cleaned up,” Shayla orders. “If he broke your nose, we’re suing. Just tell me you didn’t hit him first.”
“No, but I wish I did,” I grumble.
It turns out my nose isn’t broken. The blood all came from a cut on the inside of my lip, which is now swelling up enough that I really do look like a goldfish. Shayla throws out all the bloody paper towels and hands me a bag of ice before announcing that I’m okay. Matt finds me after that and asks if I want to leave, but I only have one question for him.
“Where is she?”
He doesn’t need to ask who I’m talking about.
“Stéphanie and Kay were just with her outside. She said she didn’t want to leave—just needed some breathing room. She’s out in front of the building.”
I nod and stalk past him, heading right for the front door. I don’t stop to wonder if this is the best move or not; I have to see for myself if she’s okay.
Out on the street, the noise of the party is just a dull throb. The streetlights make everything glow orange. Molly’s dark hair is like copper in the light where she leans against the bricks of the building, staring at the empty cafe across the road.
“Hey,” I say softly.
She turns her head, and her hand flies to her mouth as her eyes travel over me.
“Your face...” she whispers.
I move the ice bag away so she can take in the damage. “Not so bad. I’m still gonna be pretty.”
She looks horrified. “I’m so sorry, JP. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Sorry?” My voice comes out harsher than I meant. I take a deep breath in and join her against the wall. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Molly.I’msorry that happened to you.”
She shakes her head, still whispering. “I feel so stupid.”
