SLAP—
With the crisp sound of a palm hitting flesh, Jasper Quinn's head was knocked to the side. The hand he had reached out to grab her with was left hanging in mid-air.
Shock.
Disbelief.
He turned to look at her, his eyes filled with utter astonishment.
Even Silas Thorne, who was watching from a short distance away, was stunned for a few seconds before the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk of secret satisfaction.
The trace of displeasure he'd been feeling seemed to vanish in an instant.
"Joyce?" Jasper Quinn sullenly withdrew his hand. He had imagined many possible scenarios for their reunion, but he had never imagined this:
She would slap him.
"President Quinn, Mr. Quinn—a correction. Please call me Mr. Monroe. Miss Monroe is also acceptable."
"You're still mad at me. About what happened back then, the truth is…"
"Stop. I don't want to hear it."
"I had my reasons!"
