Page 196 of The Rising


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“Len’s bringing him here.”

I nod. Good. Let’s hear what he has to say about his coffee dates with the journalist. “I’ve heard from Amber.”

Not surprisingly, Ringo’s and Otto’s ear prick up, and I’m sure Goldie’s have too. I can’t see her to know. “Does she want to get back together?” Ringo asks.

I smile. Rose wouldn’t. She’d kill. “She mentioned a teddy bear.”

“Oh really?” Otto twiddles his beard, and Ringo’s lips straighten into a grim line.

“Really. I’m meeting her at the house at three.”

“Is that wise?”

Probably not. “All the girls are out for a pamper day.”

“Not true,” Ringo nods to Goldie, who gets herself back on the stool next to him, her lip curled in disgust. “Since you find me so repulsive,” he goes on, “why don’t you join the girls for a pamper day?”

“Why don’t you,” she retorts, looking down at her watch, “have a colonic, since you’re so full of shit too. It’s nearly time to evacuate.”

“Enough,” I say, smiling around the rim of my glass.

“I’ve got something,” Nolan says, raising his hand. “I need to replace one of the girls.”

Oh? I lower my glass, not liking his shifty persona.

“Which one?” Brad asks.

Nolan looks away, muttering something. “The one we found in the office with him,” James says, and Brad curses.

“Oh dear.” I give Brad a look that says,you hired him, you deal with it. “Did she get a bit of a handful?”

Nolan breathes out, his cheeks ballooning. “She’s got a bit attached, yes.”

I laugh. “And what lesson have we learned today, students?”

Nolan rolls his eyes and trudges off, and I ignore the looks of utter disbelief coming at me from everyone else. They can fuck off. Rose is different. Nolan stops and looks back. “Hey, what about those two girls you picked up?” He clicks his fingers constantly, thinking. “Pearl and Anya.”

My eyes automatically go to Brad, my lips pressed together around the rim of my glass. He seems to have frozen in place. Did he hear? I can’t be sure; he looks a bit vacant. So just in case... “He said—”

“I fucking heard.” Brad stalks off, holding his shoulder. “Do what the fuck you like,” he growls. “But if you fuck another member of staff, I’ll fuck you with a hammer drill.”

“It’d be way less comfortable than the blender,” James says under his breath, making Nolan snort his laughter. I’m obviously not in on this private joke, but I give the kid a look to suggest he best rein himself in before Brad, the moody fucker, goes crazy on his arse.

“Higham’s here,” Otto pipes up, turning the screen to us. I lean in and see him getting out of his beamer, taking a long-arse time straightening his cheap suit jacket. Bracing himself?

“We’ll stay in the bar,” I look back at the stage. “What time are the girls due to start practice?”

“An hour,” Nolan calls.

I look at James. “Enough time to torture the truth out of the fucker?”

The blackness I both love and hate washes over his face, giving his pasty, hungover skin a little color. “I need ten minutes.”

“Ooh, feeling feisty, huh?”

He doesn’t find my joke funny, lowering his arse to a stool, pretty much cracking his knuckles. I’m blaming it on his hangover. I lean forward and hold my glass out, prompting Goldie to take it and pass it back to Mason to refill. “This needs a gentle approach,” I say to James. “No flying off the handle. He’s—” My mobile interrupts me. Mum.Fuck. I don’t dream of ignoring her, knowing she wouldn’t call me unless it’s necessary. “Mum?” I answer, edgy. “Everything okay?”

“What’s going on?” She hits me with her demand fast and abruptly, not answering my question, and that gets my back up. But the days when I spoke to my mother with little respect and even less love are over.

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