Free This Man by Jodi Ellen Malpas Page A

ultimate walk of shame.
    I flinch when there’s a knock on the door.
    ‘Ava?’
    I keep quiet. Oh God, he sounds almost angry. I pull my fingers through my hair and dab my eyes with tissue to soak up the tears. I look no better, but I know I’ll feel better when I’m out of here. Geeing myself up to face the music that’s a disappointed man blocking my escape, I gingerly unlock the door. It flies open, nearly knocking me off of my feet, and Jesse is filling the doorway. He is angry. And he’s blocking my path.
    I look past him into the bedroom, finding we’re alone. He must be a bloody convincing liar because he’s still shirtless, and there’s no Sarah trying to rip my hair out. As if he has the right to look at me all disapproving and make me feel like a letdown. I push past him.
    ‘Where the hell are you going?’ he shouts after me.
    I don’t respond. I keep my pace up, grabbing my bag and stalking out onto the gallery landing, hearing Jesse curse as I make my escape.
    ‘Ava!’ he yells.
    I take the stairs fast, glancing up as I go, spotting Jesse flying out of the suite, fighting to get his t-shirt on. Detouring into the bar to collect my phone, I find Mario serving some gentlemen. My good manners prevent
    me
    from
    demanding
    it
    immediately, so I stand patiently and wait, fidgeting and flustering the whole time.
    ‘Did you get what you came for?’
    Sarah’s cold voice stabs at my flesh. Oh God, does she know? Is there a double meaning there?
    I turn, plastering on a false smile. ‘You mean measurements? Yes.’
    She looks me over, her elbow resting on her hip, with her sloe gin and tonic suspended in front of her face. She knows.
    Oh, this is awful.
    Jesse races into the bar, skidding to a stop in front of us. I look at him in horror.
    Could he be any more obvious? I glance at Sarah to gage her reaction to this little scene, finding her looking thoughtfully at us both. She definitely knows. I need to leave, right now.
    I turn back towards the bar. Thank God, Mario spots me. ‘Miss O’Shea, here, you must try.’ He hands me a short of some sort.
    ‘Do you have my phone, Mario?’
    ‘You try.’ he demands.
    In my desperation to get out of here, I knock the whole thing back in one foul gulp. It burns the back of my throat, continuing the burn as it makes its way down my throat and into my stomach.
    My mouth forms an O as I squeeze my eyes shut. ‘Wow!’
    ‘It is good?’
    I blow out a long, hot breath, handing the glass back to him. ‘Yes. It’s very good.’ I begin to get the aftertaste of…cherries? He takes the glass, winks and hands me my phone.
    I smooth my dress, taking a deep breath, before turning back to face the two people I never want to see again. I’m sure there’s a gigantic, neon sign saying Tart flashing on my forehead.
    ‘You left this upstairs.’ Ward hands me my folder but doesn’t release it when I tug gently.
    ‘Thank you,’ I frown at him as he stares at me, his brow completely furrowed as he chews his bottom lip. He finally lets it go, and I tuck it in my bag. ‘Goodbye.’ I leave them both in the bar, making my way to my car. He can’t pursue me with Sarah there to bear witness and that is a major relief.
    I get in and start my car, ignoring the voice in my head screaming “You’re probably over the limit!” This is so irresponsible of me, but desperation leaves me with no alternative. I reverse out of the space and see Jesse come bounding out of the doors. He can’t be serious? Why doesn’t he just come out and tell her exactly what just happened?
    Frantically, I shift into first gear, pulling off sharply and leaving a cloud of dust in my wake. I’ve never drove my Mini so erratically. As the fog of dust clears behind me, I see Jesse in the rear view mirror, throwing his arms around in the air like some raving lunatic. I speed down the tree covered driveway, my head spinning – a mixture of drink and distress – trying to block everything out of my