Bernard's POV
Getting kicked out wasn't exactly my choice. The moment my fist connected with Frederick's jaw, security materialized like they'd been waiting in the shadows. They weren't interested in hearing about harassment or self-defense.
"Club rules," one of them said flatly. "Physical altercations result in immediate ejection."
Now here we sat on the concrete steps outside London's most elite social club. Me in my tailored evening jacket, Penny in her cocktail dress that probably cost her weeks of salary. We'd both managed to grab our drinks during the commotion.
"Well," I said, swirling the amber whisky in my glass, "this wasn't exactly how I pictured the evening ending."
Penny's laughter bubbled up, genuine and relieved, cutting through the awkwardness.
"I'm betting it wasn't. God, I'm so sorry I wrecked your night."
"You didn't wreck anything," I said immediately. "That jackass did."
