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The man on the couch cranes his head to look back at me. I don’t miss the contempt he’s doing a terrible job of concealing. “Nice to meet you,” I chirp, my curious eyes falling to the fake blonde sitting next to him, who is yet to bless me with a hello or even her face.
I bite at my lip, flicking an interested look Beau’s way. She subtly shakes her head, exasperated. “I’ll see you both out.”
“Yes,” her Dad says, standing. “Come on, darling.” He puts a hand out and helps the woman up from the couch.
And then she turns.
And I stagger from the weight of my shock.
What the fuck is she doing here? She must have balls bigger than any of Danny’s men.
“Rose?” Beau says. “All right?”
All right? Am I? I’m staring at the woman who not only once served as the in-house whore here at Casa Black, but the woman who also held me at gunpoint when she realized I’d won Danny’s affection. It was a shock to me—Danny’s affection, not so much her reaction—so I can only imagine how she felt. Oh God, what the hell am I supposed to do with this? And more to the point, what the fuck does Amber expect me to do? Keep a dignified silence in the presence of Beau and her father? She must have lost her damn mind. Why the hell did she come here? I don’t know. Like I thought, massive fucking balls. One thing I do know, though, is that she’s more likely to come out alive facing me rather than Danny. The more I’m thinking, the angrier I’m getting.
“Amber.” I glare at her.
“Rose,” she says, smiling, like she’s seeing a long-lost friend. “It’s so lovely to see you again.”
I look at her like the crazy bitch she is.
“You know each other?” Beau’s father asks, his attention jumping back and forth between us. “How?”
I laugh, and it’s unstoppable, as Amber shifts nervously from foot to foot. “Just old friends,” she says, linking arms with him. “We’d better get you home now that the doctor has given you the all-clear.”
Yes, get him home before I expose you for the gold-digging whore you are. “Why would you even come here?” I ask, my mouth out of control. “Do you have a death wish?”
She swallows, flicking her eyes around the room. “Tom insisted,” she murmurs.
“Then make an excuse.”
“Why would she do that?” Beau’s dad asks. “I called her to come pick me up. I can’t drive. Too shaken after the ordeal I’ve been put through. She was worried.”
I blink my disbelief and come back to the same question, because it’s not making fucking sense. Why the hell would she come here? It soon hits me, but before I can unravel it and make my brain catch up with what’s unfolding, Amber speaks up.
“I was so sorry to hear of your loss.”
“Loss?” Tom says. “What loss?”
I close my eyes and inhale. I should be worried. I’m not. Everyone will soon know Danny’s alive and kicking, so what’s one more person? “My husband,” I breathe, giving Beau apologetic eyes, knowing she’s doing her best to keep the information her father has to hold against her to a bare minimal. “My husband died.”
“You remarried?” he asks, confused.
“No, I haven’t remarried.”
“Then who’s that man out there with Beau’s antisocial boyfriend? The one who threatened me with a gun? Beau said he’s your husband.”
He’s sounds so accusing. Like I’m responsible for my husband’s killer hands. “That’s my husband.”
And as if he’s heard me summon him, he bursts in unceremoniously with Brad and Ringo flanking him.
“Oh great,” I murmur, dropping my head. This couldn’t get any worse.
I’m wrong. Esther appears in the doorway with a tray of tea, all smiles. Until she spots Amber. “What is that tramp doing here?”
“I will ask you not to speak to my girlfriend like that,” Beau’s father says, pulling Amber close, who is lost in a mixture of shock and embarrassment.
“I’ve got it, Mum,” Danny grates, his eyes boring holes through Amber’s struck form.
“Danny?” she breathes, clutching her purse to her chest.
Danny leers, looking her up and down before turning his steel stare onto Beau’s father. “I suppose you’re with her for her wisdom and shining personality, aren’t you? Did you know she’s not a real blonde?”
I wince, glancing across to Beau. Sorry, I mouth, but she waves me off on a roll of her eyes. We all know why Tom’s with Amber, and we definitely all know why she’s with him. She’s younger than Beau, for God’s sake. I shudder. But I can’t wonder how she stomachs an aging, overweight man pounding clumsily into her every day. I was there once. Difference is, I did it for survival. Not money.
“Would someone explain what the hell is going on?” Beau’s father barks.
