The Worst Best Man(94)

“You, on the other hand, keep downplaying the importance of our relationship,” he pointed out.

“Nice save. Why aren’t you freaking out? It’s Lionel Goffman, by the way. Rivals on the polo field and business arena,” she said, quoting the article.

Aiden had a vague recollection of the man. “What did he do, Franchesca?”

“He hinted that I should try out his bed instead of yours. I’m required to be polite, professional, at work. I needed that job. Needed the money. But he grabbed me—”

“He touched you?” Aiden’s voice was dangerously calm, but it didn’t fool her for a second.

“Don’t you go all white knight and make this worse, Aide.”

“What exactly did he do?”

“He grabbed my arm and started pulling. He said he was going to buy me a drink and pay me for the rest of my shift.”

Aiden glanced back at the phone. “Did you break his nose?”

Frankie sighed and picked up her glass. “There’s video,” she murmured.

“I beg your pardon?” Aiden asked, leaning closer.

“There’s video. Scroll down.”

He did as he was told and watched as his Franchesca yelled a warning to the unsuspecting dead man. “You don’t get to touch me! In fact, you don’t get to touch any woman without her permission.”

But Lionel wasn’t in a listening kind of mood. He grabbed for her again. “Listen, let’s go for that drink—”

Frankie was shaking her head and then the tray came up. With one hand, she bashed him in the head like the tray was a cymbal. Dazed, Lionel took a step back and tripped, falling on his ass.

“For your information, Aiden Kilbourn is a better man than you could ever dream of being. And if you ever insinuate otherwise, I will hunt you down!” The temper had exploded, and there was no putting it back in the box. She grabbed a tray of champagne from a cocktail table behind her and dumped the entire thing on him.

“There’s your fucking drink, asshole!”

Shocked gasps and some laughter rose from the crowd of witnesses as Lionel tried to scramble to his sticky, humiliated feet.

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyers!”

Aiden put the phone down and felt his own vibrate in his jacket yet again. If the Rumor Mill blog already had this, it was everywhere by now. Damage control would be… interesting.

He picked up his glass and shocked them both by starting to laugh.

Frankie looked at him like he’d lost his damn mind. “How can you laugh at this? I’ve just humiliated your entire family? Your PR bill is going to be astronomical this month alone.”

But he couldn’t stop laughing. He had Franchesca Baranski in his corner. No smarmy competitor, no wicked stepmother, no idiot brother had scared her off. She stuck. And her fierce loyalty now extended to him.

Just as his heart belonged to her.

“Aiden, stop laughing and start thinking about how much damage I just did. I assaulted someone on video. And if that isn’t bad enough, now everyone knows that your girlfriend is a waitress.”

“Was,” he corrected her. “You got fired.”

She gasped so hard he thought she might fall off her stool. “It’s not funny!”

“There is no one like you in the world, Franchesca. I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“Aide! What do I do? Am I going to get sued? Do I have to apologize? Because fuck that. Do you know how long it’s going to take me to pay off my credit card on just the development center’s income?” She put her head down on the bar, her dark curls spilling over like a waterfall.

“Franchesca, you’re not getting sued.”

“Did you watch the end of the video when he starts howling about lawyers?”

Aiden sighed and pulled out his phone. Twelve missed calls. He skipped the ones from his mother, father, and Oscar and dialed his PR firm.

“Michael,” he said by way of greeting. “Hold on while I conference in Hillary.” He called his favorite of the family’s attorneys. “Hillary? I’m on the line with Michael. Here’s where we stand. I want a countersuit prepared and ready to file if this Goffman asshole is stupid enough to proceed. I also want a statement prepared that says Ms. Baranski and I are weighing the idea of pressing charges for assault. She felt physically threatened by his overtures and handled the situation as best she could to safely diffuse the threat.”

Frankie gaped at him.

“I’d like to further add a statement about Kilbourn Holdings’ recent stand on sexual harassment and bullying. Some standard wording about how this behavior won’t be tolerated whether in a business or social setting, and we are proud of Franchesca and women like her who stand up to outdated patriarchal behaviors and call them out for what they are. Antiquated customs intended to value one sex over the other have no place in this day and age.”

“Got it,” Michael announced. “I’ll coordinate with Hillary, and we’ll get you a draft before it drops tomorrow morning.”

“Good. Make sure you mention that Ms. Baranski is repped by Hutchins, Steinman, and Krebs.”

“Looking forward to kicking some ass,” Hillary announced.

“Thank you for the overtime,” Aiden said and disconnected the call. His phone was already ringing again. It was his father. He ignored the call. Two texts popped up on the screen from Oscar. They were screenshots from other gossip blogs.