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“Babe, here you are. Sorry I’m late,” a male voice said. What? I looked over my shoulder at the source of the voice. He was possibly the most handsome man alive. And had obviously mistaken me for someone else. I had no clue who he was. “I’m so—” I began, but he turned to Marshall and said, “And you must be Marshall, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you. Nothing good.” What is happening? Did Veronica pay someone to butt in and stop this nightmare? “I’m sorry, you are…?” Marshall asked. “Griffin Sterling. I’m with Phoebe.” I chanced a glance at Veronica, who was grinning. Clearly, this was her doing. I opened my mouth but then closed it again. I had no idea what to say. “Wait, you’ve got a date?” Marshall said. He had the nerve to sound affronted. “And you let me talk all this time, making me feel guilty?” Somehow, I got my voice back, along with my courage. “Oh sure, Marshall, because me showing up with a date is on the same level as you cheating on me, taking another woman on the trip I paid for, and then coming here to tell me to my face that you’re going to get married.” The hot guy—Griffin, apparently—put an arm around my shoulders, and I immediately felt warm at the contact. He brushed my bare arm with his fingers, drawing small circles with them. My skin turned to goose bumps beneath his touch. Goodness, this guy is electrifying my body. Marshall stared at exactly that spot. A sudden rush of satisfaction filled me. Maybe this guy was my guardian angel, come to save me from more humiliation. It certainly felt good watching Marshall’s face. I mean, this stranger was about a hundred times more handsome than my ex. It was quite funny, actually. “Well, Marshall,” I said, because I couldn’t stand being near him any longer, “thank you for meeting me and updating me on your personal life. Let’s never do this again.” “You heard my girl,” Griffin said. “Time to take a hike so she and I can start our evening.” Marshall stared at him and then at me. “We still need to talk about the house.” I winced, and Griffin’s grip on me tightened. Marshall had some nerve. He really thought he could come here, break my heart all over again, and then casually discuss the house? “Email my realtor,” I said. Marshall opened his mouth, but Griffin cut him off. “No. Just get out. You’re disturbing our romantic evening.” Marshall didn’t reply, just pushed the chair backward and shot up to his feet. “Whatever,” he said to me. “I’ll be in touch.” He took one last look at Griffin before turning around and leaving, and I thought I heard my knight in shining armor mumble, “Jerk.” The second Marshall was out of sight, I let out a huge breath of relief, as if someone had just taken a weight off me. Then Griffin straightened up and removed his arm, and I felt cold. I looked up at him. “Um, thanks. I hope my friend bought you a drink or something. I do appreciate your coming to my rescue.” He flashed me a smile. “You’re welcome.”