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“Traveling does our girl good.”
“And my bank balance bad.” I laugh, but I have to agree with him. She looks radiant, full of energy and a zest for life. Her mother thought our girl’s plans to travel the world was a hare-brained idea, just an excuse to put off getting a real job after she finished university. I, however, saw it as an amazing opportunity to experience life. Maybe because I missed out on that after saddling myself with a kid so young. I don’t know. All I know is she’s having the time of her life, even if it’s costing me through the nose.
Todd hands me back my phone, and I take it, having another quick look at my girl before tucking it away in my jeans pocket. Her eyes are the exact shade of my green, her hair dark too. Her nose slim, her cheekbones cut. She’s a stunner.
“Ever worried that she won’t come home?” Todd asks what I have refused to ask myself.
“Of course she will. She loves her daddy too much.” I dismiss his question with all the casualness it deserves.
“And his bank balance.” Todd laughs lightly, leveling serious eyes on me. This worries me, if only because my best mate doesn’t do serious. “Or maybe she’ll find a man.”
I snort my thoughts on that suggestion. I know my Tia inside out, and I know she finds the idea of lumbering herself with a relationship disgusting. I’ve never argued with her. I’m the only man she needs in her life. Me and my grandfather. “That isn’t gonna happen.”
“You hope.”
God, yes, I do. I can only hope there isn’t an older fucker out there like me hitting on her. Old enough to be your father is different in our situation. And God, I saw the irony when Lo raised her eyebrow at me at our first lunch when Jasmine stopped by. Jasmine’s only a few years older than Tia.
Todd collects his cue from the floor and sets his beer on the edge of the table. “Hey, there’s a champagne lunch tomorrow at the Sanderson. Coming?”
“I can’t. I’m meeting a friend.” It’ll be the fourth week in a row that Lo and I have sat in Nero’s, stuffing down a sandwich, sipping coffee, and chatting about anything and everything. Everything except her husband. I’m thinking he must be a bit of a dick, but that part of her life is none of my business. It’s just refreshing spending time with a woman who I don’t want to fuck and, equally, spending time with a woman who doesn’t want anything from me, besides conversation. There’s never a quiet moment when we’re together. She seems to like my jokes, and I can’t deny that hearing her laugh makes me feel good about myself. Because I can tell she doesn’t laugh often. Our weekly lunch dates have simply become . . . habit. Maybe I should take her some place nicer. I’m guessing her husband doesn’t. I shake myself back into the room, remembering we’re playing pool. I look to Todd. His mouth is hanging open.
“A friend for lunch?”
“Yeah. Don’t ask to come. She won’t like you.”
“She?”
He has every right to be shocked. “Yes, she.”
“You screwing her?”
I look at him in disgust. “Lo isn’t the kind of woman a man wants to screw.” Lo is the kind of woman a man should want to make love to. “Besides, she’s married.”
His mouth falls open again, his hand blindly sweeping up his beer and taking what looks like a needed sup, his wide eyes on me. What’s his problem? “Of all the beautiful, single women in London, you get a crush on a married one? You are unbelievable.”
Huh? “Whoa.” I laugh, pointing my cue at him. “No, no. You’re heading in the totally wrong direction. Lo is a friend. There’s nothing like that going on. Like I said, she’s married.” The fact I’ve concluded she can’t be happily married is a moot point. Married is married. Though I would be lying to myself if I haven’t thought about what is going on in her life. Whatever it is, it’s not good. But she makes me smile, and I make her smile. She’s a breath of fresh air as far as women go. I like her. A lot.
Todd’s face suggests he’s concerned. I don’t know why. “How’d you meet a married woman? And, more to the point, how’d you get to know her well enough to have lunch together? You see a ring, you walk away.” He shows the ceiling his palms and shrugs.
“Simple.”
“Not when you nearly killed her,” I say over a laugh. It’s far from funny. Just one second hesitation on my part would have been the end of Lo. I shudder.
Todd leans forward, nearly halfway across the table. “Come again?”
“She walked out in front of my car. You don’t walk away from a woman when you’ve nearly killed her.” I deliberately neglect to mention that I have a horrible feeling Lo purposely stayed on the road waiting for me to take her out. He’ll only stamp his assumptions all over that snippet of information and, frankly, I don’t want to hear someone say she was suicidal out loud. It’s hard enough to listen to my head reaching that conclusion. “Then her dog had a turn and I took her to a vet.”
