I lifted my head and caught Ashley in the mirror. Her face was dark, her gaze sharp, and I frowned.
How unlucky can I get? Why does it feel like trouble follows me even to the washroom?
I didn't want to deal with her. I washed my hands quickly and turned toward a cubicle, but she blocked my path. "Vivian, stop right there!" she shouted.
I furrowed my brows, annoyed. What now? "What is it?" I asked coldly.
"Ha! I should be asking you that!" Ashley's words slurred slightly, her voice sharp. "What were you saying to Fabian outside? Trying to seduce him again?"
My frown deepened. So she had heard him. And yet, watching Fabian treat her—his supposed mate—with such careless ambiguity, I could hardly summon sympathy for Ashley.
I pushed her hand away, keeping my voice detached. "Ashley, are you blaming me for your own failure to keep your mate?"
