Chapter 489
Effie ventured hesitantly, “Why are you all looking at me like that?”
Maurice didn’t bother with subtlety. “What’s the matter? He’s not coming?”
Effie nodded. “Yeah, something urgent came up. He said he’ll get here as soon as he can.”
Maurice arched a brow at her. “You’re really rushing into this marriage—are you sure you picked the right guy? Don’t go jumping from one mess straight into another, Effie. In the end, you’re the one who’ll get hurt.”
Effie nodded, trying to sound reassuring. “I know. He’s a good man. He’s not like… the last one.”
Maurice pressed his hand to his forehead, exasperated. “That’s what you said about Mitchell too, remember? And look how that turned out…”
He shook his head, feigning seriousness. “Honestly, I ought to take you to a doctor. You’ve got a severe case of hopeless romantic, and I don’t even know if it’s curable.”
Effie couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I am not hopelessly romantic,” she protested, rolling her eyes at him.
But in her heart, she knew the truth. If she really were that lovesick, she would’ve clung to Mitchell for dear life instead of breaking things off so decisively. Sure, she’d married Lyman in a fit of frustration, barely giving herself time to process the breakup. At the time, she’d had a few regrets. But after spending more time with Lyman, she realized they got along remarkably well. Maybe it wasn’t some sweeping, movie-style romance, but affection could grow with time—and wasn’t that good enough?
Maurice rubbed his temples again and said, “Just keep your eyes open, okay? If that new guy ever dares hurt you, I swear I’ll make him regret it.”
Effie smiled softly, touched. “You’re the best, Maurice.”
He lifted his chin in mock pride. “Obviously.”
They’d all been friends for years, and dinner together was always a lively affair. The conversation flowed, the laughter was loud, and before anyone realized, they’d each had a bit too much to drink.
When they finally stumbled out of the restaurant, Nita and Maurice were messing around, shoving each other playfully. In their tipsy state, they accidentally bumped into someone.
Nita immediately realized it was her fault and rushed to apologize. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to-seriously, I’m sorry.”
Maurice chimed in, “Yeah, sorry, we didn’t mean to run into you.”
“Nita?” A sharp voice cut in. Vinson Elliott’s narrowed eyes landed on Nita and Maurice.
Nita blinked, trying to focus. When she realized who it was, she straightened up abruptly, pointed at Vinson’s face, and blurted, “Jerk!”
Grabbing Maurice’s arm, she leaned heavily against him and announced, “Babe, listen up-this is my boss. TotaDtyrant. Makes me worko overtime on weekends…”
Vinson’s brows drew together, his gaze flicking to where Nita’s hand gripped Maurice’s arm. They were awfully cozy. Was there something going on here?
“Nita, have you been drinking?” Vinson asked, suspicion in his tone.
Nita looked right at him, her words slurring a little. “It’s after hours. If I want a drink, I’ll have one. You can’t tell me what to do!”
Vinson snorted. “You’re right, I can’t But you’d better be careful-if you break anything here, you’ll be paying for iEverything in this place is antique. You couldn’t afford the bill.”
Maurice shot Vinson a glare, annoyed. “That so? Name your price.”
Nita’s heart skipped a beat. She thought-wait, am I dreaming? Why is Maurice acting so tough? He only has five hundred bucks to his name-how’s he going to pay for antiques?
She hushed him quickly. “Don’t say anything! Let me handle it. You’ve only got
five hundred dollars in your pocket…”
Maurice immediately zipped his lips.
Vinson’s eyes lingered on Maurice, a mocking smile playing at his lips. “No taste, just a pretty boy.”
Nita, still a little unsteady, stumbled toward Vinson.
“Boss…”
She sashayed over, and Vinson actually looked startled, stammering, “Ni-Nita, what are you doing?”