AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It served him right for ditching me with the responsibilities while he ran off to get his dick sucked. I make noncommittal noises, but mainly to get him worried. I’ll stick to his budget, no problem.
The car drops David at the pub, and he presses two fingers to his brow in a mock salute, disappearing inside. Have fun with that. I head to Harrods.
The second I pick out a nice watch for Dad, I have salespeople trailing me, hoping to make a sale. Mom’s currently going through a French stage, so I get her some nice French crystal wine glasses, organizing to have the gifts wrapped and taken to my car.
Finding my way to the jewelry section, I focus on the silver earring selection. The saleswoman rabbits away about various designs and jewels, but there’s a pair that catches my eye. They’re perfect for Angie. Silver, like she normally wears. They are small silver hoops, thick and elegant. When I point to them, the woman goes on and on about what a good choice they are and their qualities. I don’t really care about all that.
I want them wrapped up nice for Angie to open on Christmas morning. She places them in a small bag, and I head back to the car, my mission and reason for being in London accomplished. Sliding in, I dig my phone out of my pocket, to figure out where to head next. The driver slides into traffic, heading for the pub we dropped David at.
My phone has blown up with messages from the group chat. They’re now all at the pub, but I delete the notifications and open the voicemail Mom left when I missed her call.
“Timothy. We’re all having lunch in London. Bill is on his way to join us. Are you coming? Let me know.”
If Uncle Bill is going, Angie might be there. I pull up the phone number she plugged into my phone weeks ago, that I haven’t needed yet.
TIM: Are you on your way to London with Uncle Bill for lunch?
My phone buzzes immediately with a response. It’s a photo of her feet propped up on Uncle Bill’s fancy coffee table.
ANGIE: I have the run of the Manor.
She’s alone? My eyes meet the driver’s in the rearview mirror. “I need to get back to Kent as fast as humanly possible. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Yes, sir.”
We wind our way out of London, and as soon as he hits the motorway, I’m pressed back into the cream seats as we break every speed limit, getting back in a little over an hour. I dig my wallet out of my pocket as he climbs out. He has earned his fucking tip. Tucking my wallet away, I get out of the car, pressing my palm against his. He grins, stepping away, a fist full of cash as I turn to stride toward the house. Gladys meets me at the front door, surprised I’m back so soon.
“Mr. Brooks Westerhaven.”
“Hi, Gladys. Could you stash these in my room?”
“Of course, sir.” Gladys takes the shopping bags I hand over, turning and moving up the staircase. I turn right, searching for Angie.
She is still where she sent the photo. Shoes off, curled up in an easy chair in front of a roaring fire, a cup of tea beside her while she reads one of the manuscripts Beau had couriered in last week. She doesn’t notice my appearance, reading with focus as I move through the room, leaning over the back of the easy chair.
“I thought you only read in the closet?” I murmur, brushing a kiss against her temple. Angie jumps, but grins up at me.
“Have you seen the size of the closets here? I’d have to be a contortionist.”
I savor the image briefly, picking her up and sitting down on her chair, bringing her into my lap. Kicking off my shoes, I prop my feet up on the coffee table and tip my head back while my arms close around her. Angie squirms for a moment, getting comfortable, and returns to her manuscript, reading and making notes in pencil while I doze beneath her.
I’m so comfortable I fall asleep, and the next thing I know, I’m jerking awake as Gladys speaks to Angie. “I’ve set up a table for two for lunch in the conservatory.”
Lunch. That sounds good to me.
“Thanks, Gladys. We’ll be right there.” Angie smiles, speaking softly as the door closes. Angie glances over at me.
“You’re awake.”
I stifle a yawn, scratching my hair. “I was warm and comfortable.”
Angie flushes with pleasure, though she rolls her eyes at me.
“Lunch?” she suggests, clambering to her feet and shoving her shoes back on. I likewise stand and take her hand, leading her through the house to the conservatory.
Gladys must be totally on board with Angie and my relationship. She hasn’t set up an informal lunch in the conservatory. She’s set up a romantic meal for two. There are flowers on the table and candles and she’s piping in classical music from somewhere.
Angie gets the giggles, but I grin and hold out her chair for her. It’s a simple lunch of vegetable soup, crusty bread, and crisp, delicious wine. It’s perfect.
