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She winces. “Yeah. Apparently, she wants to get to know them better.” She places her hand over mine. “You could always come along.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“We both know you miss him, Rosey. Turn up and pretend you didn’t know he was coming.”
I ponder her words. “I am mad he ignored me earlier,” I admit.
She grins. “Is that the old Rosey I see? I don’t think you’re depressed at all. I think you just need to have some good old-fashioned Rosey fun.”
ALBERT
Lauren is way too familiar for my liking. We share a past, but that’s exactly what it is, the past. Arthur pours me a drink, and I take it gratefully. “I had to get a chef in,” he tells us with a laugh. “Meli isn’t the cooking type.”
Meli scowls. “I prefer warning.”
“My fault,” I say, holding up a hand. “Apologies. Although we could have just gotten a takeout.”
“Lauren, have you known Albert long?” Meli asks.
“Long enough to have known what he was like before the suits and unapologetic attitude,” she says with a fond smile.
“Oh, shit, did you two . . .” she trails off. “Does Rosey know?”
I frown. “There’s nothing between me and Rosey.”
“Leave it, Meli,” Arthur warns.
“There was clearly something,” Lauren continues. “She didn’t take her eyes off you earlier.”
“Do we need to discuss Rosey right now?” I ask, arching a brow and glancing between the two women.
“Let’s go through to the dining room,” Arthur suggests, changing the subject.
We sit down, and the chef brings out the first course. I open the wine right as the front door opens and we hear Rosey shout out for Meli. Meli cringes. “In here,” she answers.
“What is she doing here?” Arthur hisses.
Meli shrugs. “You know she likes to come around a lot.”
“We haven’t seen her all week, why would she turn up now?”
Rosey steps into the dining room, smiling wide. “Did you forget my invite, Art?” I take in her short dress and heels. She knew I’d be here—it’s my favourite outfit.
Arthur narrows his eyes. “It’s a private dinner party.”
“Arthur,” hisses Meli, “don’t be rude.”
Rosey sits the other side of me, and I immediately sit straighter. Her perfume fills my nostrils, and I wipe my hands down my trousers. Knowing how unpredictable she can be makes me nervous. “It’s fine. We’re all friends here, right, Bert?” She grabs a napkin and lays it on her lap. “Although you were rather rude earlier when you didn’t speak to me.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” I mutter.
She grabs my fork and stabs at my prawn starter. “Are you still moody because of what I said?”
“Nope,” I say on a sigh.
“Because I know it was harsh, but I thought we were on the same page. I didn’t realise you wanted a relationship. It took me by surprise.” She’s trying to embarrass me by telling the table our conversation, and I don’t appreciate it. She continues to eat some of my prawns, closing her eyes in appreciation. “Oh my god, these are amazing.”
“Do we have to do this now?” asks Arthur, throwing down his napkin and glaring at her.
