The Worst Best Man(93)

He could either do that by meeting Elliot’s financial needs or maneuvering his way out of his commitment to his father.

In short, he was fucked.

His phone rang, and Aiden snatched it up. It was his mother. He briefly debated letting it go to voicemail but changed his mind.

“Sorry for calling so late,” Cecily said, her voice bright. “But I knew you were working anyway. I wanted to tell you I ran into Franchesca at an event tonight. She was working.”

“Was Elliot there too, by chance?” Aiden pinched the bridge of his nose and hoped for good news.

“Not that I saw. But his mother was.”

Aiden’s lips curved at the slightest hint of derision in his mother’s tone. She should have been awarded sainthood for her gracious acceptance of Jacqueline and Elliot after his father’s philandering. Now that the marriage was over, Cecily had been sprung from the prison of politeness, of putting on a brave face.

“Anyway, Franchesca’s so different from anyone I’ve seen you with before, Aiden. And I wanted you to know that I like her very much. And that assessment was already in existence before she put Jacqueline in her place tonight when she was running her mouth about father and son enjoying ‘the help.’”

Aiden swore quietly. He felt twin pangs. One of relief and one of dread. Even at work, Frankie couldn’t escape his family. And though it hadn’t been Elliot telling secrets, Jacqueline could do enough damage on her own.

“What exactly did Jacqueline say?” he asked, his tone steely.

Cecily laughed. “No need to ride into battle. Your girlfriend handled herself well enough that Jacqueline left with her tail between her legs. She’s a good match, Aiden.”

“Dad doesn’t seem to think so,” Aiden admitted.

“Your father just needs his horizons expanded. I hope you keep her.”

“We’ve only been dating two months. Are you designing wedding invitations already?”

“Two months is the outside for most of your relationships, dear son. And I don’t see any of the usual tells that you’re growing bored with her.”

No, if anything, he was more fascinated, more enamored by the day. And someone in his orbit had upset Frankie tonight. It was his job to protect her from that.

“Where was this Save the Whatever fundraiser?”

--------

He found her, finally, in a bar a block from the fundraiser. The crowds had thinned, and Frankie sat alone at the bar, still in her catering uniform, staring morosely into a glass of something. He barely registered the dark paneling, the soft lighting, and the subtle art under brass lamps. His focus narrowed to her, to the slump of her shoulders, the sweep of her hair, the pursing of her lips.

“You’re blowing me off so you can drink alone?” he demanded, taking the stool next to her.

She didn’t look up, her long hair hiding her face. Aiden could be a patient man when the situation called for it. He signaled the bartender and ordered a scotch.

That got a rise out of her. “So, you’re drinking again?” she asked.

“I’m having one drink with you. A beautiful woman shouldn’t have to drink alone.”

She shook her head and lifted her face. He saw the red eyes, the tear-stained cheeks, and felt his body shift into fight mode. Someone had hurt her, and they would pay.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low.

“First, you need to know that I’m mad crying. Huge difference from sad crying. I’m not weak.”

“Franchesca,” he said, turning her stool to face him and caging her between his legs. “There isn’t a person on the face of the planet who would ever use your name and weak in the same sentence.” His phone vibrated in his pocket with an incoming call.

She looked down at her bunched fists. “I got fired.”

He reached for her hands and held them in his. “And you’re mad.”

She nodded.

“I heard about Jacqueline,” he pressed. “Did she do this?” His phone signaled again in his pocket.

Frankie shook her head. “I’d actually forgotten about that. I know she’s still technically your stepmother for a few more weeks, but I hope I’m not required to be nice to her. I probably should have checked with you first.”

“Franchesca, I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to be nice to someone who isn’t treating you the way you deserve to be.”

She looked at him, into him, and her eyes welled with tears.

“Shit, sweetheart. Tell me what happened.”

“Oh, I can do better than tell you.” She pulled a hand from his grasp and slid her phone in front of him.

Aiden glanced at the screen and then picked the phone up for a closer look.

The picture drew his attention first. Frankie was in mid-swing with a serving tray heading in the direction of a blond man’s square jaw.

Aiden Kilbourn’s girlfriend attacks business rival at fundraiser.

“Who is he, and what did he do?”

Frankie’s eyes widened. “He made it sound as if you two were Lex Luthor and Superman.”

“There are many people who feel that their relationship with me is more important than it is.” If his phone didn’t quit ringing, he was going to throw it in the bar sink.

“Ouch.”