Princess Redlander

This is a scene from a romance Fiorella is planning to finish off and publish as soon as her current WIP is finished. The heroine and her date had attended  political gathering at which he'd gotten drunk so the hero, who doesn't much like the heroine,  had to come to the rescue. 

Cotton frowned. Something must be going on.  He hung back under the hotel awning to watch the show. 

A silver Acura ZDX was parked at the curb and Lolly’s date, leaning against onto the valet stand, was arguing with the valet captain while Lolly held a light evening wrap tightly around herself and stood off to the side, as if distancing herself from the scene. 

“I c-can drive,” the kid insisted.  “Jus’ gimme the fuckin’ keys.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Phipps, but I can’t do that,” the valet captain explained.  “I’ve told you--Mike here will take you and your friend”—a nod at Lolly—“wherever you want to go, but we can’t allow you get behind the wheel.  We’ll store your car and you can come pick it up tomorrow.”

The kid swayed forward, pushing himself into the captain’s face.

“Do you know who my f-f-father is?” 

“Yessir, you’ve already told me.  He’s on the Austin City Council.  And if you’ll give me his phone number, I’ll be glad to ask him to come pick you up.”

The crowd was losing patience.  “Get a move on,” a man yelled.  "We're all waiting for our cars." Cotton was pretty sure he recognized Ben Tabor’s voice.

Lolly moved forward a step. “For heaven’s sake, Trey, take the ride.  I need to get home before my aunt calls out the National Guard.”

The kid shot her a killing glance, then turned back to the valet captain.  “Okay, I’ll take your r-ride, but sh-she stays here.”  He whirled. “It’s all your fault, bitch!” 

He lost his balance as he lunged in Lolly’s direction, but a muscular valet grabbed him under the arms, packed him into the back seat of the Ford parked behind the Acura, and drove off.  Another valet hopped into the kid’s car and moved it away from the curb.  Within minutes the traffic jam had been cleared and the car claim was proceeding smoothly. 

The valet captain turned to Lolly.  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’ll have to wait till Mike gets back.  I can’t spare any more personnel right now.”

Lolly stiffened.  “But I . . . .  Never mind.  I understand.”

Cotton sighed and stepped forward. 

“I’ll give Miss Redlander a ride,” he said, handing his own claim tag over to the valet captain. Lolly was a spoiled brat, but was the right thing to do.