He acted as if he hadn’t heard a word I said and forced the glass into my hand.
I pushed it away. It tipped, spilling wine across his expensive suit.
A stunned hush fell over the room.
Then—clack—Bianca slammed her chopsticks down.
“Kevin, enough already! I let it go the other night. And now Darren is trying to patch things up and you’re still making a scene?”
“‘Not feeling well’? More like being petty.”
She grabbed a bottle, poured a glass to the brim and stormed over.
“Here. Drink.”
Darren tried to de-escalate. “Ms. Bianca, it’s fine. He’s not feeling well—don’t force him.”
A few others chimed in, trying to calm her down.
But Bianca wasn’t backing off.
“Kevin, do I not give you enough respect?”
“You’re a grown man. How long are you going to act like a spoiled brat?”
“Darren is being the bigger person and trying to end this nonsense and you’re still putting up a front? Are you trying to humiliate me?”
I looked at her, baffled. “End a conflict? Did I hear that right? Or are you just delusional? Is that what he’s doing?”
“You’re unbelievable!” she snapped.
Fury blazed in her eyes.