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2
Iwoke to the sound of our breakfast cart being rolled into the room, with Sadie beaming as she turned from dismissing the employee.
“I ordered everything,” she grinned, pushing the cart closer to the bed, “and Matthew’s paying for it.”
“Can he afford that,” I grumbled, slowly rising to sit, “and all of this?”
Biting into a piece of bacon, Sadie nodded. “He has loads of money, Mia. Don’t worry.”
“Put down the bacon,” I ordered. “Not just because it’s a carcinogenic processed meat, but tell me what you’re talking about. How is he magically the one, which doesn’t exist by the way, and also has loads of money? He’s not a prince, is he?”
Sadie giggled, grinning at me behind the piece of bacon she chewed. “I wish. Wouldn’t that be magical?”
“I’m going to be sick.” Falling back onto the bed, I couldn’t imagine this situation becoming any less ridiculous, so I waited for Sadie to finish eating and reply, all while considering how I’d get out of work once this weekend was over.
“Did you ever see the movie with the redhead with the enormous boobs where she’s in love with her brother’s best friend, but he ends up being an escaped convict and she didn’t know it until it was too late, and she ends up breaking him out of jail before learning she’s pregnant with his kid?”
I stared at her, my mouth wide open. “What sort of crap are you watching, Sadie?”
“Whatever, Mia,” she rolled her eyes, “but Matthew directed and starred in that film. It was a big hit last summer. That was the one I was the extra for. Remember? You and Benji told me I shouldn’t do it, but look what happened because I didn’t listen to you.”
“Right,” I mocked. “You’re knocked up, eating bacon, and spending some rich guy’s money.”
Climbing from the bed, which was honestly the most comforting thing I’d slept on since living with Caleb, I got dressed in the clothes I’d worn yesterday. Food was the last thing I wanted, but I wouldn’t let mimosas at the expense of Matthew go to waste, so I took both champagne flutes and gulped one down before Sadie could finish her second piece of bacon.
“You can’t have this either,” I motioned toward her with the second flute. “Did you call mom yet?”
Sadie did everything to avoid looking at me. I told myself not to be annoyed, not to step in and fix this for her, but trying to subdue it all made me even more frustrated. I will not fix this. I will not call mom for her. This is not my problem.
“Sadie, I have to go back,” I reminded her, resisting the urge to argue. “If you come with me, I can help you. If you stay here, I’m not sure what I can do.”
“Will you call mom for me? She won’t be as mad if it comes from you.” She pouted, and I gagged.
Shaking my head, I held my ground. “I don’t need your kid’s grandma thinking this is my fault, or my problem. I really have to get back to work, and you need to figure out what your plan is with your baby. Right now, you have bleached hair, you’re eating bacon, and that mini skirt you wore yesterday won’t fit much longer. Frankly, neither is any of this pretend romance you have here. You’re not English.”
“You’re such a downer, Mia.” Sadie pouted and scarfed food from each plate, swallowing orange juice and coffee between bites.
“I’m worried,” I reached for her mug of coffee, pulling it from her mouth, “that you don’t have a support network here. Caffeine isn’t good for the baby.”
“Well,” she took my empty flute and set it on the breakfast cart, “booze before breakfast isn’t good for you.”
“Will you please just come home?” I pressed, trying to stare her down. Smeared mascara clung to her eyes, her blonde hair was a mess, and she was still perfect. Perfectly imperfect, rather. “It’s Christmas, Sadie. We can tell mom together, and we can come up with a plan. Benji and I can help you, and I know Amelia will, too. Please?”
“One condition.” She held up a manicured hand. “You need to meet Matthew.”
“I did. I hate him.”
It wasn’t my niece's or nephew’s fault that their dad was a famous loser, or that their mom lived in a fantasy. Doing what was right for that baby, I agreed to meet Matthew before planning my flight home. After Sadie spent a good portion of the morning throwing up almost everything she ate for breakfast, we were ready to leave.
I told Sadie we needed to meet in a public place so he couldn’t kidnap her from me, and so I would keep my temper controlled. That led us to a bench in St. James Park, with a view of Buckingham Palace and a reminder of how far from home I really was.
With rain dropping from the edge of Sadie’s umbrella to my lap, I sat with my arm around her shoulder on the damp bench.
“Aren’t you cold?” I questioned, watching her cross and uncross her bare legs, still wearing her short skirt from the previous night. Sadie shook her head, even though she shivered against me. “Liar.”
“I can’t imagine what it’s like to live there,” she nodded toward the Palace, “and have everyone do everything for you.”
“Hi,” I snickered. “Have we met? I’m your big sister, the one who’s rescued you since you were a toddler. Nice to meet you.”
