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‘Don’t mind me.’
James stalked out, slamming the door behind him. Was there nowhere to hide from Elyse? He knocked on his parents’ bedroom door.
No reply.
Going in, he sat on the bed and lifted the phone back to his ear.
‘Sorry about that, Char. Go on.’
As she relayed the details of her drama, his head sank lower. If a bucket of confidence had been shared between the Hunter-Savage siblings, he got most of it and his sister had been left with the dregs at the bottom. James believed she was settled and happy, but now it appeared everything had fallen apart.
‘So I’m going to come home for a bit,’ she finally finished.
‘What, here?’
‘Where else can I go?’
Shit. The last thing he wanted was her living in the same house as Elyse. And no matter how much he loved his sister, he didn’t want Estelle meeting her, either. He wanted to keep his business and personal life separate, and his family firmly away from the Foxbrookes. If only he had access to his London flat, Char could have moved in there. But his tenant had signed a year’s lease, and James needed the money.
‘Have you spoken to Mum?’
‘No, I wanted to speak to you first.’
He rubbed his forehead. ‘Whatever you need, you know I’m here for you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Promise you’ll ring Mum?’
He could hear her sniffing back tears.
‘Char?’
‘I’ll ring her now.’
James thundered down the stairs and into his father’s office.
‘Elyse has got to go.’
His dad glanced up from the computer screen, his dinosaur poppet toy in one hand. ‘What you talking about?’
‘She can’t live here. She’s currently upstairs, using my bathroom.’
Kevin shrugged. ‘So what? You’ve got the best shower.’
‘Dad! This is a family home. Elyse is an employee. She needs her own place.’
‘Jamesy-boy, I need her around.’ He tapped his head. ‘This never sleeps. If I’ve got an idea, she’s got to be on hand to write it down.’
‘Why can’t you do it? If you don’t want to write, just type it out.’
‘Nah, she’s quicker. When I’m riding my seam of conscience, I need her holding the steering wheel.’
‘It’s a stream of consciousness, Dad,’ James spat. ‘And I can’t live with her. She has to leave.’
His father dropped his poppet and picked up a fidget spinner. ‘Not going to happen. This is my manor, not yours.’
‘I don’t give a shit. Thanks to you, I don’t have a job or a home. I’m stuck here saving your arse and the very least you can do is keep your staff out of my personal space.’
