Page 42 of After Hours


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“That’s only because I’m better than you.” My brother James saunters in, grinning at my dad. His eyes slide over me with little interest. He’s always been that way. Out for number one. The golden child. I’m no threat to him, so he pays me no mind. Not to mention that he doesn’t agree with my life choices, and refusing him the opportunity to boss me around in his company still pisses him off.If only he knew the truth.

“Wait until I invest in some good clubs and not those worn things you gave me,” my dad relents, smiling fondly at my brother.

“How about a round tomorrow?” my brother asks, walking past me without so much as a hello. Turd. I watch him secretly, wondering what it is that he has done to enable someone like Henrik Johansson to blackmail me into silence. The more I observe his arrogance as he boasts to my father, a cocky smirk on his face, the less I want to be here.

“I’m going to go see if mum wants any help.” I stand, leaving them to watch the game. I love my brother, but I can’t say I like him much. Years of watching my parents fawning over him and being compared to him was enough of a reason to start out on my own. Add in Henrik, and it was a no-brainer.

Chapter15

Lauren

“How’s work?” Mum asks, elbow-deep in bubbles. My mind catapults back to Cain’s office and how I was wrapped around him whilst he moaned into my mouth. My cheeks heat, but I clear my throat and dry the pots for her.

“Good.” I smile. “Just tired from night shifts.”

“You’ll have to bring your friend next time.”

“Amberley?”

“Yes, that's the one. Is she enjoying it, too?”

“Yes, it's a really lovely hotel.”

“Maybe another time, your father and I can come and visit, and you can show us.” I smile at her and pass her a tea towel to dry her hands on.

“Sure, let's arrange something.” They would hate my flat—maybe I could take them to a nice restaurant. I frown into the sink, thinking of a suitable place when James comes into the kitchen. My mum pours my father a drink and takes it to him in the sitting room.

“You and dad playing golf, that's nice.” I smile, not sure what else to say. We’re not close enough for me to know what's going on in his life, or vice versa.

“Don't be like that. You chose to move away,” he scorns, getting a drink and not even bothering to let me respond. I watch him walk out and grit my teeth. This is how it always is, jibe after jibe from James. He will charm my parents stupid and make me look like a pointless twit. I finish making my tea and join my family in the sitting room.

“I would have done that, Lauren.” My mum tuts seeing me with a drink.

“It’s okay. Dinner smells amazing!”

“It will be a change from takeaway, I’m sure,” James mutters.

“Oh, Lauren. You don’t eat that rubbish, do you?” My father frowns over his glasses.

“No. I cook most evenings unless I’m with friends.”

“Beans on toast doesn’t count,” James interjects. Given he is six years older than me, he is a childish twat.

“Good job, that's not what I eat,” I say as I lift my cup and take a sip, happily swallowing the insult working up my throat.

“So what do you eat, then?” James demands. My oblivious parents don’t even bat an eyelid at his needling. They are just happy to have me home.

“Why?”

“Well, since you left, you’ve probably lost a stone,” he delivers, and both my parents snap around to get a look at me. Great. Thanks, James!

“Oh, Robert, she has!”

“Do you need some money?” My father wants to know.

“No.” I spend the rest of the afternoon fielding questions about my diet and day-to-day activities. By the time I leave, my parents have arranged to come and visit the following weekend, unhappy with my life. I feel exhausted and can’t wait to crash when I get home.

Night shifts and a day with my family have left me feeling drained, not to mention the whole Cain situation. I left London to catch my step, and now I feel worse.

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