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“Fine,” He put his palm out in front of him, as if surrendering. “When I die a very long time from now, after you give me grandkids, I would like to make sure that you’re taken care of. Get you on paperwork.”
“Yeah?” I asked. “Will I have to break into a stupid laptop to do it?”
He chuckled. “No, that was your father’s idea of a challenge and a joke. His humor was something else, not unlike yourself.”
“I don’t have a sense of humor.” I said sarcastically.
“My point exactly.”
The front door chimed. There was laughter in the room, somewhere. It invaded my senses in a quiet way. Like something you notice on instinct, but don’t necessarily know why. My eyes flitted up, over Brett’s shoulder, to the restaurant’s doors where a man and a woman were standing, chatting with Fiona.
He was tall, in a sleek black coat that went down to his knees. His familiar icy eyes were on a blonde woman with crimson lips. Her hair was in a neat twist, and she had a form-fitting trench coat that cinched at her narrow waist. He casually placed a hand on her lower back as Fiona led them to a table at the other end of the bar.
Alastair and Sophie were a beautiful pair. I never stood a chance.
“There’s a mansion in Up-State New York,” Brett continued, oblivious to the sudden heat that went up my spine. “I think you’ll like it. It won’t be yours in name until I’m gone, but I think it would be a nice place for you if you do ever choose to settle.”
I kept the distress from showing on my face. Just like Dad taught me.
Who would I ever settle with? Almost everyone disappeared or moved on from me like I was simply a blip in their otherwise full lives. I watched them from the corner of my eye. Alastair and Sophie whispered like longtime lovers. I was sure that’s exactly what they were.
Chapter 24
Alastair
Ipeggedherthemoment I walked into the restaurant. She was facing the door, her face sour. And as I suspected, her face and body were covered in black charcoal lining and lipstick. I didn’t like that. I liked her face when it was bare. In a moment of madness, I wondered if the American, Brett Bradley, was her lover, but I dismissed it. The two were casual, there was no tension. Maybe it was more of a mentor-mentee situation. Was he her handler?
I refused to look at her, but instead kept my gaze on Sophie. Other than her raising her brow at my scrutiny, she did nothing. Fiona, the old bitty, fawned over us as a couple.
“I’m just so pleased to see you two together!” She clasped her hands in front of her heart.
“Now, Fiona,” Sophie said sweetly, her voice airy and sweet, “You know we’re just friends nowadays.”
Fiona smiled, then shrugged as if saying that she’d continue to hold out hope. After a decade, she had always assumed that we would end up together.
Because of our tall frames and blonde hair, we were always pegged as a ‘beautiful couple’. We’d create a wonderful row of blonde Von Trapp children. Sophie, of course, kept her lack of sexual preferences to herself, not deigning to allow the press into that particular aspect of her life, no matter how much they pried.
I knew the moment my Rose saw me. I didn’t look, but the stutter in her movements from my peripheral vision told me enough. She had seen me and she was livid.
I smiled. I tried to pawn it off as smiling towards Sophie - just to twist the knife in Rose a little more.
Fiona sat us at the other end of the restaurant, where I had a perfect view of my vixen and the back of Brett’s head.
It was quite a restaurant. The downstairs used to be a living area with a grand dining room, which they turned into a restaurant and bar. Fiona lived in the apartment upstairs. Her husband had passed away a couple years ago, so the restaurant was now her life.
When Fiona had our drink orders - a red wine for me, and a white for Sophie - I tapped my fingers nervously on the table.
Sophie gave me a pearly white smile, then finally asked, “So, why am I here?”
“I have a confession.” I chuckled to myself.
Her head tilted to the side. “I’m surprised.”
“What do you mean?” I was confused. Why would my confession of Rose surprise her? Why would she expect it at all?
She leaned in and in a low whisper said, “That you’d confess to killing my husband in a public place.”
My jaw dropped.
