Baby Come Back(10)
“Whatever,” she snipped angrily, straightening up and moving to the door. “I guess the queen bee has spoken.”
“What did you say to me?”
She turned to look at me from the now opened office door. Her expression had lost some of the haughtiness as I stared her down, east coast style. She remained silent.
“One more incident of insubordination and Abby is the one that will be getting more shifts. I guess that means you will be walking.”
Her face blushed scarlet but she knew better than to try and get the last word with me. She quickly departed for safer territory, closing the door behind her.
I heard Tristan chuckle from behind me. I turned to meet his amused stare.
“Well done, Ms. Hatton. I think you did a very thorough job of marking your territory.”
He was leaning against his desk, his arms folded in front of him giving me a cocky grin.
“Oh bullshit, Tristan. She was out of line. Someone had to put her in her place. You evidently weren’t going to do anything about it.” I made a quick exit out of the office, slamming the door behind me.
Tylar arrived at the upstairs bar about an hour after my shift started. She sat down at the bar and ordered a Sprite.
“So how did your appointment with the doctor go?” I asked, setting her glass of Sprite in front of her.
“My due date is October 2. Everything looks fine. I’ve got to tell you though, this nausea is a bitch.”
“Really? You didn’t have much with Preston’s pregnancy, did you?”
She was gulping down her Sprite.
“Just a couple of episodes of nausea; this is like constant. Hopefully it will be short lived. How are you feeling, Gina?”
“I’m feeling great, girlfriend. The second trimester is awesome. Hey, next appointment my doctor is doing an ultrasound. I’ve decided to find out the sex of the baby. I hate surprises, you know?”
“Yes. I am aware of that.”
“So I don’t know, Ty, maybe you could come with me?”
“Well sure, Gina. But don’t you think Tristan might want to be there?”
“Hmmph, doubtful.”
Tylar gave a heavy sigh, taking another sip of her drink. She started to say something but stopped when several people sat down. I moved down to take their drink orders. By the time I had served them, more people had lined the bar. I was mixing up a Cosmopolitan when I heard his familiar voice.
“Well Giner, you’re looking good, babe. How’s our wee one doing? Looks like you’re starting to pop out nicely.”
My head snapped up immediately; my eyes locked onto Ian’s amused ones. I looked over at Tylar; she nodded and left the bar.
“What the f*ck are you doing here, Ian? Tristan barred you after you made that spectacle a few weeks back?”
“Yeah, well guess what? I’m here, aren’t I? He’s not going to keep me out of my own club or away from the mother of my child.”
It was only four o’clock and Ian was already drunk. What the hell had happened to him? I fought off the feeling of guilt that was starting to creep in, reminding myself that it had been his choice. It was Ian who wanted our marriage over; it was Ian who wanted to sell his half of the club. I had no reason to feel guilty about his choices.
“This isn’t your club anymore, Ian. This is not your baby either.”
“Well I guess we’ll be seeing about that in a few months, won’t we love? I fully intend to exercise my paternal rights in the meantime, by keeping my eye on you and making sure that you are keeping yourself healthy. So I will be popping in from time to time to visit you.”
“That is where you are mistaken, Ian.” It was Tristan’s voice behind him now. He was calm but his voice had a distinct edge to it that said he was in no mood to be f*cked with by another one of Ian’s drunken tirades.
Tylar was behind the bar, taking care of the drink orders that I had neglected. I watched closely as Ian turned to face Tristan. He wouldn’t back down. The problem was, a drunk Ian was a stupid Ian. He wouldn’t know when quit. I was sick of these scenes at the club.
“So Mr. Tristan,” Ian sneered, “I hear you’re living alone these days. I’m happy to hear that because I wouldn’t want you poking your dick into my wee one’s little head now.”
Ian chuckled at his own crudeness.
(Oh Christ! He’s a blubbering idiot!)
I saw Tristan’s face darken. He was livid at Ian’s crude display. He started to say something, but Ian interrupted him.
“Yeah, I hear you’re slung quite long between your legs there, mate. Hmmph, I suppose Giner could take that better than the one what was in here whining about you a week or so ago.”
(What the f*ck? Who is he talking about?)
Tristan grabbed Ian by the scruff of his neck, lifting him off the ground. His feet dangled several inches above the floor like a puppet. If I hadn’t been so horrified, I would have found it amusing.
“Mr. Hatton, you have been barred from this establishment. If I need to call the authorities to have you removed, I will. You are not to return here again or both Gina and I will file criminal trespassing charges against you. Do you understand?”
“Piss off, mate” Ian sneered, trying to wriggle free from Tristan’s strong grasp. He didn’t succeed. He was forced to look into Tristan’s very green and very angry eyes.