"Sorry about that, bub," Rhodes says softly as he reaches out his hand to place it delicately over mine, testing the waters. I guess me not shoving it off is a good sign, as he appears to visibly relax beside me.
"It's important, I understand," I say flatly, keeping my eyes focused on the passing lights outside the car. Maybe he notes my frostiness, as he gives my hand a soft squeeze, back to running his thumb across my knuckle. I don't squeeze back.
Ambrose pulls up to the curb of the hotel and bounces out of the car very quickly, but I'm one step ahead. I throw open my door and help myself out of the car, thanking all of the deities in existence that I don't twist and sprain my ankle in my heels as I do. Ambrose doesn't seem to know what to do as he meets me by the side of the car, opting to just shut the door behind me and wish me goodnight as I wander on my own back into the hotel. Rhodes trails behind me for a moment before his heavy footsteps catch up with me, falling into line beside me. I'm still not making a scene, I'm just walking to the elevators.
It's when we are inside the elevator, just the two of us, that I allow the feelings to slowly begin to bubble to the surface. And Rhodes has the nerve to ask:
"Are you upset with me?" He sounds like he's actually questioning it, stupid bastard.
"Yes," I say quickly, staring straight ahead at the doors in front of me, begging them quietly to open up faster.
"Based on wha-" I cut him off before he can say anything else stupid.
"Who the fuck is Holly?" I snap at him, finally facing his way. He looks a little taken aback at my abrasiveness. I've had four glasses of champagne so the liquid courage is helping the bubbling rage.