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He shrugs, like it’s standard.Standard. “Wait, did you tell Pearl?”
“Yes, I fucking told Pearl. We need to nip that in the bud.”
Is he for real? “What, like you’re trying to nip Otto and Esther in the bud?” I ask. “Because that’s going well.”
He blinks, surprised.
“What are you?” I rant on. “The love police?”
His surprise morphs into irritation, and I roll my eyes dramatically, not doing myself any favors, but... screw him. “Rose, we hardly know her.”
I laugh hysterically. “You didn’t know me.”
“She’s twenty-one.”
“Don’t forget the small matter that she’s a foreigner.”
“She’s British,” he says, confused.
“Precisely.” I poke him in the chest and immediately apologize for it when he withdraws, grunting with pain. Damn it. “I’m sorry.”
“Forgiven.”
“Anyway, your little plan to put her off Brad may have worked,” I tell him. “She looked appalled when I told her Hiatus is a strip joint.” Innocently, of course.
“Good.”
I suppose Danny’s right. Brad’s not a one-woman kind of guy. Pearl’s young, naïve. Brad will only hurt her. I sigh. I would say Pearl should be kept away from this world, but she’s already exposed to it. Already in it. “You’d better go.” I reach up on my tippy-toes and kiss his scarred cheek. “James said he’d meet you at Hiatus.” I turn and head back to the kitchen, but he grabs my sweater and hauls me back to him, draping me over his arm. I let out a surprised yelp and find his eyes.
“You know the best thing about having a fiery marriage?” he asks, and I smile, despite myself. I love making up with him. I sickly love sparring with him. Bickering. Arguing. Fighting. It’s the reasons why we fight that I hate. I grab his cheeks and land a big kiss on his lips, and Danny quickly takes it deeper, introducing his tongue. I lap it up on a contented hum and swallow every magical sound of pleasure he makes until he returns me to my feet, turns me by my shoulders, and sends me away. I hear the front door close and go to the window in the kitchen that looks out onto the front, seeing him sliding into the passenger seat of one of the Mercedes. Ringo’s at the wheel.
“This kitchen gets busier and busier,” Esther says as Brad strolls in with a face like a slapped ass. He’s suited, but the sling supporting his shoulder takes it from classy to creased.
“Morning,” I say, casual, going to the chopping board and picking up half a lemon.
He grunts, looking at the girls at the table as he passes them, not uttering even a hello. Pearl looks down at her coffee, and Anya looks at me, her thick, beautiful, naturally shaped eyebrows high.
“I think Pearl and Anya should come work at the club,” I say, nibbling the corner of the lemon.
Brad freezes, looking at me in horror. “I don’t need any staff.”
“Umm, actually, I recall Mason saying he’d lost a few girls.”
His eyes widen, and warning comes at me. What’s his problem? He doesn’t even deal with the bar staff. That’s Nolan’s job. It could be mine if my husband would relax a little. Besides, Pearl’s clearly gone off Brad. “It’s a no.”
I look at him in disbelief. “They need something to do.”
“I said no,” he bellows, swinging around and knocking his shoulder on a cupboard. We all recoil in shock at his outburst. “Fuck!” he yelps, dropping his coffee cup. It shatters across the floor, Brad curses some more, and then stalks out of the kitchen, leaving behind a gallery of speechless spectators.
“Oh, I say,” Esther breathes, going to the cupboard and digging out the dustpan and brush before snatching a towel off the counter. “Whatever has gotten into him?”
I look at Pearl.
She looks away.
This house right now is like a box of tension. A pressure cooker waiting to explode. I have to get out. I leave the kitchen and take the stairs fast, running down the corridor to Daniel’s bedroom. I swing open the door and find it empty. TV room. I backtrack, taking myself back downstairs, finding Daniel on the couch with Tank. Neither of them look up at who’s entered, their serious attention on the screen.
“You’re not needed today?” I ask.
