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We sit in silence for a moment and then she sighs, grabbing a burger and beginning to unwrap it. “It’ll get cold if we don’t eat it now.” I shake my head, opening my laptop and ignoring the food. “It’s silly to waste it,” she adds, and when I still don’t grab the burger, she places hers down too. “Albert,” she mutters, and I look up, “I don’t like fancy restaurants. They don’t like me either. It’s a mutual thing.”
I press my lips together. She’s not the sort to apologise, but I think that’s the closest I’m gonna get, so I shut the laptop and take a burger. She almost smiles, picking hers up again and taking a bite. When she’s like this, she reminds me of a child in trouble. Her small explanations give me insight into the real woman behind this confident mask she puts on for the world.
“Did you sort things with Ollie?”
She nods. “We talked. He’s okay. Mav’s gonna make him do shit around the clubhouse to keep him busy and away from trouble.”
“What about his teacher? Don’t you need to meet with her?”
She shrugs. “I’m just gonna let things die down, see how it goes.”
“Won’t that just make it worse?” I ask, biting into the burger.
“I’m no good with all that stuff,” she admits. “Meetings make me nervous.”
“You’re his mum, don’t let them push you around. Tell them you’re doing your best and offer to work with them. It’ll shut them up. At least that’s what my mum used to do.”
She smiles. “I can imagine you and Art were a nightmare.”
I nod. “Believe it or not, Charlie and Tommy were worse. We were just trying to survive, but that pair,” I shake my head, smiling at the memories of my younger siblings, “they were trying to prove something. Ask my mum, she’ll tell you horror stories of her school meetings.”
“Maybe she can give me some advice,” says Rosey, staring down at her burger.
“It must be hard when you’re doing it alone,” I point out.
She shrugs. “Until recently, I thought I was doing great. When you talk about parenting with any other mother, they’ll warn you it’s hard when they’re small. They’ll tell you about sleepless nights and baby blues. But no one talks about the teenage years. Every decision I make might fuck with his head, and my bad choices could lead to him being a shit adult. It’s a huge responsibility.”
“Maybe don’t think of it like that,” I tell her. “I mean, I’m no expert, but taking one day at a time seems the obvious choice.”
She sighs, placing her half-eaten burger in its wrapper. “Maybe. It’s getting late, I should go.”
Chapter Four
ROSEY
Albert finishes the last bite of his burger and collects the wrappers. “Thanks,” he says, dropping them in the bin. “For feeding me. Although lobster sounded better.”
“Your new dancer was good,” I say, wandering over to the window and looking out over London. “She’s pretty.”
“I didn’t know you were watching.”
“I find it sexy,” I admit. “Watching you, watching her.” He loosens his tie slightly, and I press my hands against the cool glass of the window. “Did you like watching her?”
I feel him behind me just before his hands wrap around to my front, tugging the button to my jeans. “Not as much as I like watching you,” he mutters, pushing my jeans down my legs. He kneels behind me, tapping each ankle, so I lift one at a time until he removes my jeans completely but remains on his knees. His hand runs up my inner thigh until I spread my legs farther apart. It’s a dangerous game I’m playing. Each time we do this, I see the need in his eyes. Eventually, he’ll want more than what I’m willing to give, and I’ll have to let him go. But Albert Taylor isn’t like the other men I string along. I don’t think he’s the type to walk away quietly.
He buries his face between my legs, running his tongue along my opening. His hand joins his tongue, working his fingers into me. It’s not long before I’m a quivering mess. He rises to his feet, and I hear his belt being unfastened. The condom wrapper follows, and then he wraps my hair around his fist. Tugging my head back, he pushes his erection at my entrance. “Next time I send a car, you’d better be there,” he tells me. “I don’t like being stood up.” And then he slams into me hard, pushing me against the window.
We dress in silence, awkwardness spreading between us. “I should go,” I finally say.
“You said that already,” he mutters. “Do you want to tell Archer or should I?” he asks, and I pause, unsure what he means. He sits down behind the desk. “That he’s not working for me anymore.” He fixes me with a serious look that tells me he’s in mobster mode and I should be careful how I answer him.
“What?”
He shrugs. “I told you earlier I’d let him go, and you took a lifeline for him. But you didn’t turn up so . . .”
“I had dinner with you,” I snap, pointing to the desk. “We just had dinner.”
“That wasn’t the deal, Red. I booked dinner at a nice restaurant like you requested, and you backed out. Therefore, the deal is off.”
