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A laugh startled them. Connie Lawrence stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. ‘Your father has a bit of an issue with showing respect,’ she said, her voice cutting through the tension and taking an already awkward conversation up another notch.
Beth inwardly cringed at the sight of her mother. As if this morning wasn’t bad enough. Refereeing arguments between her parents was challenging enough at the best of times, but doing it in front of Matt Hardy, of all people, was beyond excruciating. ‘Mum, what are you doing here?’
It was too much to hope her mother would take the hint and leave. Instead, she sauntered into the room like she was on a catwalk, her gait slow and rhythmic, with a definite sway to her hips.
Beth’s eyes grew wide, as did her father’s.
‘I thought I’d pop in and say hi,’ her mother said, with an enigmatic smile.
Far from looking her usual miserable or angry self, Connie Lawrence looked fully back to her pre-split days. Bouncy silver-blonde hair enhancing her strong cheekbones, make-up immaculate, and filling the office with a strong waft of perfume. Her low-cut cream blouse gave a flash of nude bra, and her fitted designer jeans and heeled boots showed off her shapely figure.
‘And who do we have here?’ she said, stopping in front of Matt.
Matt extended his hand. ‘Matt Hardy. Zac’s uncle.’
‘Ah, the elusive uncle.’ Connie bypassed his hand and kissed both his cheeks, resting her hands on his chest. ‘Goodness me, you’re a big fella,’ she said, allowing her gaze to roam appreciatively over his physique.
Beth’s mortification skyrocketed. ‘Mum, please.’
‘Oh, calm down. Matt doesn’t mind, do you? When a man’s this good-looking, he’s used to being admired.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Am I right?’
It was Matt’s turn to adopt a wide-eyed expression. Poor bloke.
Beth wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
In contrast, her dad made a scoffing sound. ‘Leave the poor man alone, Connie,’ he said, looking part-flustered, part-annoyed. ‘The man’s half your age.’
Beth closed her eyes. Oh, hell. Of all the things her dad could have said.
Connie swivelled to look at her estranged husband. ‘Excuse me?’
Beth needed to intervene. If an almighty fight was about to ensue, there was no way she wanted Matt Hardy with a front row seat.
But her mother surprised her by laughing. ‘That’s a bit rich, coming from you, Kenneth. Remind me again how old Tiffany is?’
Her father lifted his chin. ‘It’s different for men.’
‘Poppycock.’ Her mother’s expression turned flirtatious. ‘This is the twenty-first century, Kenneth. Women are empowered. We cougars get to date whoever we want, age is just a number. Isn’t that right, Matt?’ She trailed her fingers down his arm. ‘And let’s face it, men are all the same age lying down.’
‘Mum!’ Beth’s hands came up to her mouth. ‘What the hell?’
To his credit, Matt merely smiled, and refrained from reacting to being used as a weapon in her parents’ war.
Unlike Matt, her father had never mastered the art of restraint and decided to retaliate. ‘You’re making a fool of yourself, Connie.’
‘You’d know all about that, darling.’ She subjected her husband to a megawatt smile. ‘Anyway, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have plans.’ She turned to Matt. ‘Unless of course I can persuade you to join me for an early tipple somewhere cosy?’
‘Mum, please.’ Beth’s cheeks burnt with humiliation. She had no idea what had come over her mum, but this was not normal behaviour.
‘Oh, sorry, am I encroaching?’ Her mother glanced between Beth and Matt. ‘I didn’t realise you were interested, darling. Good for you. It’s about time you got back out there and started having some fun. He’s quite the hunk.’
Beth audibly groaned. For months she’d been urging her mother to snap out of her rollercoaster ride of angry tirades and morbid depression, but if she’d known the next phase involved turning into a predatory sex vixen, she’d have stuck with the endless crying and excessive drinking. That behaviour was way easier to deal with than this performance. What was her mother playing at?
‘Bye-bye, Matt.’ Connie kissed him again, lingering a little as she did so, her fingers grazing over his soft beard. ‘You do smell good,’ she said, turning to her husband with a sigh. ‘Au revoir, Kenneth. Say hi to Tiffany for me.’ She sashayed over to the door, pausing for effect before making her dramatic exit. ‘Do let her know that she’s welcome to attend the wedding. I look forward to waving at her from across the room, where I shall be firmly ensconced at the top table.’ Connie smiled, her eyes narrowing in warning. ‘I hope I’ve made myself clear?’ And with that, she sauntered out.
Beth was left with her mouth hanging open.
Her dad looked equally stunned. ‘What the hell was that all about?’ he said, running his finger around his shirt collar, loosening the fit. ‘It’s like she’s a changed woman.’
