Jameson’s eyes dropped to the bandage on her leg.
“I know the owners,” Margot said briskly. “The dog is up to date on vaccines. It was frightening, but Peter’s dramatic. He shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“I’m glad he did. Are you sure you—”
“Son, please.” She cut him off, voice sharp. “Just come inside. All of you.”
When she turned away, Daisy let out the breath she’d been holding. Amelia darted past Jameson into the house. Daisy hesitated at the threshold.
“I’m sorry about this,” Jameson murmured.
“Just make sure she doesn’t say anything.”
“She won’t.”
Daisy swallowed, voice shaky. “Okay.”
Margot’s home was beautiful, much like the house Jameson had grown up in, only larger, grander. Daisy followed him down a narrow hallway into the kitchen, where Amelia already sat on a high stool, giggling.
“… and that’s why Gus doesn’t stay here anymore,” Margot was saying.
Amelia blinked, wide-eyed.
Jameson frowned. “What are you telling her, Mum?”
“She asked where Gus was. I told her he’s no longer welcome after last week’s incident.”
Daisy nervously looked over at Jameson. “It’s a long story. Needless to say, he’s living with his uncle Lenny until I find a place.”
Margot rolled her eyes and put her attention on Amelia. “Would you like a cookie, sweetheart? I made a batch last night.”
Amelia’s eyes went saucer-wide as Margot set the plate down.
“Mum,” Jameson warned softly.
“Yes, son?”
“You need to ask.” He pulled out a chair for Daisy.
Daisy sat, her pulse racing.
Margot’s lips pursed. “May I?”
She nodded. “Sure. That’s fine.”
“Yay!” Amelia squealed, grabbing one.
“But only one, dear,” Margot cautioned. “We wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite for dinner.”
Amelia bit in, muffled, “What’s for dinner?”
Daisy interjected quickly. “We won’t be staying—”
“Why not?” Margot asked coolly.
“We wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“It’s no intrusion. I insist.”
