Chapter 711: Chapter 711



“We need to get out of here.” Selma, her voice laced with urgency, urged Jett to hurry. As they rushed off, Fannie finally allowed herself a long, steadying breath.

With a cheeky grin, Bobby propped his elbow just above her, teasing, “Thinking of giving Jett a taste of his own medicine? I’m here to help, and it won’t cost you a dime.”

Fannie, resolute in her dignity, refused to stoop to such levels over a betrayal. Her anger was hers to conquer quietly, without any spectacle.

Her past experiences with Bobby had been enough of a disaster to convince her that avoiding him was always the best choice.

“You’re mistaken if you think I’m that easy,” Fannie retorted, her gaze unwavering.

“Now that you’ve made your point, could you leave? Remember, your girl is still out there, probably wondering where you are.”

Bobby’s hand shot out, seizing her arm. “You think you can just walk away from this?”

His voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned in closer. “Did you catch their footsteps fading?”

Fannie froze, realizing the truth in his words. Once Jett and Selma had exited the men’s room, the silence outside was telling.

Could Jett be lingering, perhaps waiting for them? Or had he already figured out her entanglement with Bobby? No way. Bobby had only gasped in pain—Jett couldn’t have recognized his voice, could he? But it wasn’t entirely impossible.

Maybe Jett and Selma were really waiting for them outside.

Fannie’s thoughts spun in confusion. Concealing herself this way was clearly not the solution.

“What’s the matter? Feeling scared?” Bobby’s voice snapped her back to the moment as he lifted her chin with his fingers, his playful smirk still in place. “Why not face him head-on? Confess your feelings for me. After all, he’s the one who messed up, not you.”

Surprisingly, Bobby’s proposition didn’t seem so far-fetched. If Jett and Selma could so openly flaunt their affair, why should Fannie feel burdened with guilt?

Yet the thought of confronting them filled her with dread. She knew it would be uncomfortable, awkward—perhaps even more painful than she could bear.

Bobby noticed her hesitation and leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Why not let me help you?”

Fannie, feeling cornered, realized she had little choice. “What do you suggest?”

Bobby’s smirk widened, his expression mischievous.

“That depends on how you ask me.”

Fannie took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, before muttering, “I owe you a favor.”

“I’m not interested in favors,” Bobby replied smoothly, turning her toward him. His hand lifted her skirt with practiced ease. “I want nothing but you.”

A shiver ran down Fannie’s spine as his hand brushed the inside of her thigh. The small, confined space of the stall offered her little room to move or escape.

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