Chapter 4
Back in the car, Rachel pulled herself together, her usual grace and confidence back in place.
John snickered, "Neon Entertainment Hub's got some eye candy today. Wanna check it out?"
Rachel rolled her eyes, "Are you nuts? I just got out of a relationship."
He smirked, playing it cool. "Actually, someone wants to see you."
Rachel raised an eyebrow, "Who?"
John grinned, "You'll see. You know 'em."
Rachel thought for a sec and shrugged. "Alright, let's roll."
John, always the high-roller, had a private room at the Neon Entertainment Hub. When they walked in, a young dude on a plush leather sofa stood up, his eyes lighting up when he saw Rachel.
"Rachel, long time no see," he said.
The guy, in his early twenties, was tall with sharp features and an intense gaze that softened when he looked at her. Rachel felt a flicker of recognition but couldn't place him.
"Remember? Six years ago, you and your dad sponsored a poor kid in Pinecrest Valley," John chimed in.
Rachel's eyes widened as it clicked. "Robert Martinez?"
Robert's tense face broke into a big grin. "Yep, that's me."
Robert turned out to be quite the chatterbox. As Rachel learned from John, Robert was now a hotshot model, leaving his rough beginnings behind and gracing magazine covers in Summit Ridge District.
Rachel, usually wrapped up in the Smith Family drama, hadn't kept up with the entertainment scene. Seeing the once-struggling kid she sponsored now a famous model stirred up a mix of pride and nostalgia.
After chatting for a bit, the three of them got ready to leave. But as they passed the bar, a green bottle came flying at Rachel's head.
Out of nowhere, Robert moved faster than her, shielding her with his body. The bottle smacked his back hard. "You okay, Rachel?" he asked, worried.
She was super grateful and checked his back, relieved he was fine. Her eyes then blazed as she traced the bottle's path back to its source. It was James.
"Rachel! How could you cheat on my brother?" James slurred, his words dripping with booze and rage.
James, drinking with a rowdy bunch of friends, had seen Rachel go into a private room with two guys and come out looking happier. His drunk mind spun wild stories, leading to the impulsive bottle throw.
John stepped up, rolling up his sleeves, ready to throw down. "Brat, are you asking for a beatdown?"
Rachel held John back. "I got this."
She marched over to James, her demeanor icy and controlled.
"The bottle didn't even hit you!" James protested, still defiant.
Rachel's calm, piercing stare shut everyone up. "I've been wanting to say this for a long time."
James glared. "What?"
Rachel spoke coldly, "Do you know how annoying you are? I was married to your brother for six years, and you never respected me. I had to take care of you, drive you around. You either bossed me around or talked down to me. You've been in school for seventeen years and still haven't learned respect?"
James's face turned red with anger and embarrassment. "You..."
"Shut up," Rachel cut him off sharply. "Your brother and I are divorced. I have nothing to do with your family. Who I'm with is my business. You have no right to interfere. Keep pushing me, and I'll make sure you, a minor, end up explaining yourself at the police station."
James's face went beet red, and he couldn't get a word out.
Rachel gave him one last icy look before turning on her heel and walking away.