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‘Come on in the back. Let’s have a cup of tea and that chat.’
I sigh. Even if he’s a misogynistic bastard, he’s making an effort. And he’s right. If we’re going to be partners, wherever I am, it’s best to be on good terms.
‘OK, then,’ I agree as he leads me back inside.
I look around, unable to see anything.
‘Sorry, why is it so dark in here?’ Stupid question, I figure as I remember the lady in the nude. ‘I know you don’t have any respect for society, but I didn’t think you’d go as far as conducting your personal affairs on a premises of a business. Then again, you’re always one to surprise me.’
At that, he grins one of his rare beauties. ‘You don’t look like the kind of girl who likes to be surprised… in any way.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I challenge weakly. I’m really not up for another tiff.
He shrugs. ‘Dunno. Not sure yet. I’m still studying you.’
‘Well, I’ve got you all figured out, actually. Finding you with a naked woman isn’t very original, even for you.’
He grins. ‘I promise to try harder in future, then. Maybe you’ll find me with two. Or perhaps even three.’
‘Ha-ha. And what a cheek, to pay her in front of me.’
‘What difference does it make?’
‘If I were you, I’d try to keep it private.’
‘It was private – until you barged in.’
‘And then, to top it off, you holler to her not to wear a bra next time. In front of me. My first impression of you was right – you really are a chauvinist pig, do you know that?’
‘Glad I haven’t disappointed your expectations, after all,’ he says with a strange look on his face.
I haven’t seen this expression yet. It’s a new one.
‘Just so you know,’ he adds, ‘Sally is the model for my new painting, not my lover. And I asked her not to wear a bra because it leaves marks on her skin.’
His model? I look back and as he turns the lights on, the entire table behind him is illuminated with jars of paints and brushes, and off to one side, a half-finished painting of a woman sitting by a darkening window.
*
Audrey rings me as I’m rushing out of the door.
‘Emmie, dearest, it’s your mother-in-law!’ she ta-dahs over the phone.
Mother-in-law. I guess word of Emmie Weaver being an heiress is out. Why else would MIL practically be fawning over me, let alone calling me, when the last time she did it was to tell me not to invite my grandmother to the wedding and how I was embarrassing her? But now things have changed. She can smell money from across the nation and will do everything she can to be related to it. You’d think her own would be enough, but no.
‘Hello, Audrey.’
‘I heard about your newfound fortune,’ she sings. ‘Congratulations are in order.’
She congratulates me for my money, but nothing about having both lost and found a relative? Do you see what I mean?
‘Thank you, Audrey.’
‘So, when are Stephen and I meeting them, dear?’
‘I’m sorry… who?’
‘Lord and Lady Heatherton-Smythe, of course. We can come down end of this week. How does that work for them?’
