"Hey, hey," Adam said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm just teasing. I didn't mean to offend—I'm sorry."
"Whatever," Catherine said.
She put her glass of water down on the table and grabbed her purse from the back of the chair. She could just as easily wait for Sean in the hotel lobby as in the ballroom. She started to stand, but Adam grabbed the back of her chair.
"Really," he said. "I'm sorry. It seems like we got off on the wrong foot, and I feel really bad about it."
"You're about fifteen years too late," Catherine snapped.
A wounded expression flashed across Adam's face, and she felt a stab of guilt.
"Listen," Catherine said. "That was unfair of me, but I do have to go."
"Please don't," he said, wrapping a giant, rough hand around hers.
"What the hell?" she shouted. "Let me go! Get your hands off me!"
