Undressed By His Arrogance

Sylvia’s shoulders slumped, the defiance seeping out of her body. She nodded faintly. The valet finally pulled up with the car, headlights casting long streaks of light across the pavement. Winn opened the door and gently guided her inside, his grip firm but not unkind. He bent to speak with the driver who had gotten in now.

"Go home. Do not stop for any reason. And when you get there, tell the gate staff not to let her out until I get back." The driver nodded crisply, well aware that Winn Kane wasn’t a man you disobeyed.

As Sylvia sank into the seat, she reached out desperately, her hand clasping Winn’s. Tears welled hot in her eyes, spilling over this time, streaking down her perfectly made-up face. "Don’t leave me." Her grip was small and shaking.

Winn crouched slightly, holding her gaze, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "I’m coming straight home once I deal with Joey."

Sylvia sniffled, her mascara smudging, leaving faint trails. "It wasn’t his fault, Winn. I swear, it was all me. I came on to him." She wanted to shield Joey, even now.

"I know. He should have expected it, and he should have been wiser." Winn muttered under his breath. His hand slapped the roof of the car, a sharp gesture to signal the driver to go. He stood for a moment, watching the taillights disappear with his broken sister inside.

Turning back toward the restaurant, he straightened his suit jacket and strode inside.

At the Winsfords’ table, Joey and Diane were locked in a low, tense argument. Winn ignored the awkward tableau and went straight to Ivy. Leaning close, he said, "Come on...we’re leaving." His hand brushed her lower back.

Joey scrambled to his feet. "Winn...I truly am sorry." Winn turned, eyes dark and furious, and raised his index finger at Joey, carrying all the rage he couldn’t unleash here. For a split second, Winn imagined himself crossing the table, grabbing Joey by the throat, and squeezing until his eyeballs bulged.

His palms itched for it, his blood thrummed with the urge. But then his gaze flickered to Diane, to Ivy, to the delicate social fabric that would shred if he did what he wanted. So he swallowed his violence and let his silence burn hotter than any punch could.

"Winn, tell me what’s going on?" Diane demanded. Her eyes blazed, suspicion coiling in her gut. Winn froze for half a heartbeat, his lips pressed into a line.

"It’s nothing...just a squabble between friends." he turned on his heel, guiding Ivy with him, their exit swift and decisive. Ivy cast one last bewildered glance over her shoulder, her mind buzzing with unanswered questions.

Diane’s fiery gaze snapped back to her husband the moment Winn disappeared from sight. "Joey?" she said.

"It’s fine, Diane. Just...let’s go home." He tried to keep his tone casual, his hand reaching for hers across the table.

"Don’t shrug me off!" Diane snapped. "What did you do with Sylvia that’s got Winn so worked up?" Her eyes narrowed.

Joey forced himself to meet her eyes. "He simply didn’t like the way I spoke to her, that’s all." The lie rolled off his tongue smoothly.

"I don’t know why he shields her this way. She has to be told the truth. What’s the worst that can happen?" Diane asked. Joey didn’t answer, his throat working around a lump of shame. Diane had no idea the truth she was toying with. To her, it was a puzzle of family indulgence.

To Joey, it was a loaded gun, cocked and ready to fire straight through their marriage.

*****

As Sylvia pushed the door open, her body felt drained, hollowed out from the evening’s humiliation. The migraine began as a dull throb behind her eyes, blooming with every breath, and she cursed under her breath. She’d been crying too much, and the salt of her tears had left her skin raw.

Crying did nothing—except remind her of how weak she’d become.

Her father’s voice echoed in her mind. Joey would never want her. Diane didn’t come with baggage. Diane hadn’t wrecked her chances at love. Sylvia closed her eyes, leaning against the bathroom mirror, watching her reflection blur.

She pulled open the mirrored cabinet and stared at the rows of bottles. Her hand hovered, trembling, before she snatched a pain killer and twisted the cap. Carrying the whole container with her, she staggered into the living room and grabbed a glass. She filled it with water, her fingers shaking.

If she couldn’t have Joey—her only tether to feeling wanted—then what did it matter?

*****

Winn pulled up in front of Ivy’s modest building, the car gliding to a smooth stop. He had barely spoken on the drive back. Turning his head toward Ivy, he finally let out a breath and said, "I’m sorry tonight ended badly."

Ivy looked at him, her heart twisting. He looked older tonight. She wanted to touch him, to soothe him, to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

"Its...its fine. I understand," Ivy said softly. Winn watched her lips move as she spoke, and all he wanted was to close the distance and taste the words off her tongue.

"I still have a few hours before I am your boss again," Winn said.

Ivy chuckled, shaking her head. "Yeah, I guess so."

"I want to kiss you... actually, I want to do more than kiss you," Winn admitted. "But I have to get home."

"I don’t think you should. I still think it’s a terrible idea."

"I like terrible ideas." Winn’s smirk was dark. He reached across the seat, his hand warm and rough as it cupped her face. He pulled her to him, his mouth finding hers. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, memorizing the shape of her.

After a moment, Ivy broke away, her breath shallow. "You should get home," she said.

"Yeah," Winn exhaled. "See you tomorrow as your boss."

Ivy smiled, and slipped out of the vehicle. He stayed in the car, waiting until she was safely inside her house, watching her silhouette through the thin curtains of her window before driving off.