“He-he’s been cheating on me!”
“Please stop crying. Are you all right? Where are you?” Music thumped through the phone. Was she at a club? Shoot. And Daisy couldn’t get to her to pick her up. Guilt filled her.
“Sylvie, please talk to me. Have you been drinking? Do you have a ride home?”
More sobs. Shit. What was she going to do? Then suddenly the phone was plucked from her hand. “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
What was he doing? He wasn’t sure. He only knew he’d had enough of sitting here, being ignored, listening to her grow more agitated and worried.
“Sylvie? Are you there?” he barked.
At once the sobs he’d heard stopped. That happened awfully quickly.
“Who is this?” she asked. He stepped back from Daisy, who was trying to snatch the phone from his hand.
“One moment and I will explain.” He placed his hand over the mouthpiece, ignoring the outraged spluttering on the other end. It seemed he would have to deal with one female at a time.
“Daisy, sit down,” he said firmly.
“Give me my damn phone back. You have no right to take it. That’s my sister on the other end. Give it to me.”
He just pointed at the sofa and shook his head. She stomped her foot. Brat. “Sit. Now. You tried to figure out what’s happened, she obviously wasn’t answering you. It’s my turn.”
“She doesn’t even know you!”
“Do you want to stand here debating the point, with your sister growing more agitated or are you going to behave yourself and sit?”
She saluted him.
Total brat.
But she sat. A sense of satisfaction went through him.
“Sylvie, are you there?”
“Yes, who are you? Where’s my sister? Is she all right?”
“Your sister is fine. Now that she’s behaving herself.”
Daisy gasped and gave him an outraged look. She attempted to stand; he shot her a stern look and she sat back down. Good.
“Sylvie, I’m Jed Carson. You probably don’t remember me—”
“I know who you are. What are you doing there?”
He ignored that question. “What seems to be the problem?”
There was another beat of silence. He could hear music in the background. She was calling her sister from a bar?
“Do you need a ride home? Have you called a taxi?”
“I can get myself home,” she muttered. “I want to talk to my sister.”
“No,” he replied. He knew he was being high-handed and an asshole. But if the sister was in actual danger, then Daisy wasn’t equipped to handle the situation.
“Sylvie? Tell me what is going on? Where are you?”
“My asshole boyfriend is a cheating bastard.”