He could only offer a shallow nod in return, and a barely there smile. Njall knew he should just go, but rage and mortification kept him glued to his bar stool.
His phone alerted him of a new message, and he thumbed it open without thinking about it. It dropped to the bar top through fingers suddenly struck numb. She'd fucking emailed him a copy of the finalized papers. Snarling, he turned around to find her in the crowd again, to ask her where she got the goddamned nerve, but she was already at the door with the people she was with. Her eyes locked with his, and she had the audacity to give him a little wave of her fingers and a smirk before she was gone.
The whole damn place was a maelstrom, a boiling ocean that wanted so desperately to drown him. He pounded down the drink Cate had made him, but barely noticed the burn of alcohol. And he really didn't recognize the growl of his own voice. "fuck."