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She chuckled sarcastically. “You look all hot under the collar. Must be that girl-going-down-on-you act. I didn’t realise you were a lezzie. I might have to lock the bathroom.”
I went to slap her when my mother arrived.
“That will be enough.” Fuming, she switched from me to Manon.
“Step in there and close the door,” my mother instructed Manon, before turning to me.
“Throw her out,” I shrilled, wanting to scream and then hide in a cave somewhere.
“I’m talking to Manon now.” She slammed the door; such was her fury at me and probably Crisp and Manon too.
I leaned against the wall, with a thousand voices yelling in my mind, just as Ethan walked in holding Cian’s little hand with Freddie tagging along at his heels.
I kneeled down and hugged my nephew, followed by a pat for Freddie.
“Good timing, Eth. Let’s talk somewhere outside,” I said.
He held up his finger. “One minute. I just want a quick word with Janet about the menu for our party.”
“What party?”
“You didn’t get the invite? Sunday. Rosie’s christening.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. The christening. How is she?”
Looking the proud father, Ethan had stars in his eyes. “She’s beautiful.”
Cian tossed a ball, and Freddie chased it, nearly knocking over a pedestal with an antique vase.
“Not inside,” Ethan said sternly.
Cian looked up at me and gave me a cheeky smile.
“He’s the spitting image of you. He even plays ball inside like you used to.”
He sighed. “Yep. He’s naughty. It takes having children to realise how hard we made it for our parents.” He chuckled.
If I had a daughter, I’d advise her to stay away from bad boys. But that wasn’t ever going to happen, I thought, sighing to myself.
Ethan removed the ball from Cian’s clasp just as he was about to toss it to Freddie again. The canine leapt in anticipation.
I giggled at that welcomed bit of amusement after all the heavy crap going on around me.
While I waited for Ethan in the garden, I called Carson. “Hey.”
“Hello, angel. Are you okay? I’m just with a client.”
“Let me guess: a woman in her thirties, all hot and bothered?”
He laughed. “Don’t know about the bothered bit, but yeah. We’re still meeting for lunch in an hour?”
“I’m looking forward to it. I miss you.”
“I only saw you three hours ago,” he said.
“Are you tiring of me?” Not joking this time, and feeling raw, I meant it.
“Never tire of beauty.”
