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And laughs with me.
We checked out the factories. Nothing. “Where are we going?” I ask, as James heads across town.
“It’s a surprise,” Danny muses. “Nearly there.”
“Where’s there?” I ask as James pulls over. I look up at the building. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Danny replies.
I sigh, dragging myself out of the car. “I don’t know whether to be excited or worried for you.” We stride toward the gate in a row, and I feel Danny’s eyes on my profile. I turn to find him smiling mildly at me. “What?”
“I miss this Brad,” he says, shoulder bumping me. “The sarcastic fucker who constantly states the obvious.”
“Jesus.” I move away. What’s got into everyone lately?
“No, honestly,” he goes on. “I feel like you’ve been absent.”
Me too. “I’m fine.”
“You’ll always be fine.” Danny reaches for my nape and squeezes as we come to a stop. “’Cause I’ve got you.”
I give him a questioning look. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Otto asked me if he can marry Mum.”
Recoiling, I search for the murder on his face. “And what did you do?”
“Punched him.”
“Of course you did.” I roll my eyes and return my attention to the gate. I get it, he felt screwed over by his mom for years, and I know deep down he’s done resenting her. Wants her to be content. He’s aware of how much she suffered, and Otto makes her happy. He’s lucky there’s a man around to want to make her happy. Someone except him.
“After I said he could,” he adds. I shoot him a look, and Danny smiles, proud of himself. “I think she’s said no or something, though, because nothing’s been mentioned since.”
“Or she’s scared to tell you.”
“Otto would definitely tell me.” Danny squeezes my shoulder again. “See how I took your wise advice?”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“I hope I can return the favor soon.”
When James turns toward me, I ask him with my eyes if he has any fucking clue what the fuck’s gotten into Danny. “Are we here for therapy or blood?” I ask.
“Blood,” Danny says, losing all lightness and switching on the crazy. “Let’s go.”
29
ROSE
* * *
“Yes, Rose,” Alan says. “Of course, Rose.” He smiles when I narrow my eyes in question. “Anything else?”
“Alan,” I sigh. “You keep reassuring me this is going to be finished in a matter of days”—I glance round at the building site—“but I’m struggling to see how.”
“You just leave that to me.” He starts walking toward the exit, and it’s an obvious hint I’ve overstayed my welcome. I remain exactly where I am. “How much is he paying you?” I ask.
He laughs. I’ve seen and heard enough nervous laughs from men since I met The Brit to know one. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
