Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“Actually”—Mum’s body lifts at the shoulders—“after today, working at Abbie’s florist, I realise that I might have missed out on something.”
“What?” Dad gasps, looking betrayed. “Haven’t I taken care of you? Provided? Loved you?”
“Of course you have, but, you know, I’m just saying a woman can want more than that.”
Dad, God love that clueless man, is so injured. “I’ve been a good husband.”
“An amazing husband,” Mum rushes to reassure him.
“And a good father.” He looks at me now, and damn it, I can’t refute that. He’s an amazing father. Kind, generous, loving. And supportive . . . if you’re the right sex doing the right thing. “Haven’t I?” he asks quietly.
I sigh. “You’re a good father, Dad.”
“And I’ll be an amazing grandfather too.”
I drop my head back. “Undoubtedly.”
“So make us grandparents, Amelia. We need a new generation of Lazenbys to take over what your grandpa and I worked so hard to build.”
Better just make sure we have boys. “I’m not ready to be a mum, Dad. I have other things I want to do.”
“For the love of God,” he breathes. “I’ve had enough of this madness.” He swipes up his Financial Times and escapes, giving Mum an accusing glare as he goes.
“I think I should move out,” I say quietly.
Chapter 5
Abbie swings the door open and smiles softly. “Welcome home,” she says, taking the piles of client files from where they’re balanced on one arm. “I see you brought the essentials.”
“They won’t be clogging up space for too long; I’ll take them into the office tomorrow.”
“What happened?”
“Dad invited Nick to my family birthday dinner.” Abbie’s eyes bug. “I don’t know how much more of his interfering I can take.” He means well, I know he means well, but I wish he would just listen to me. See me. Understand me. I show her my wrist. “Nick got me this.”
She winces. “I’ve cleared the spare room.”
“Your office.” I pout. “No, I’ll just crash on the couch.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Where will you do all your paperwork?”
“It’s fine, I have space at the florist. Wine?”
I exhale my yes as I follow her to the small kitchen, dropping my bags on the floor before dropping my arse to one of the barstools on the other side of the counter. I remove the bracelet and put it in the fruit bowl with a pile of oranges as Abbie gets glasses and a new bottle, opening and pouring.
“Thank you,” I say, accepting a glass. “For this and for putting me up.”
“Stop it. I already told you there’s a bed for you.”
“I didn’t want to hurt Mum’s feelings. I think she likes having me around. Or liked.”
Abbie leans on the counter. “How was she?”
“Upset.”
“And your dad?”
I laugh under my breath. “Sulking, I expect.” He’ll do what Dad does. Go quiet. Mull things over. Conclude he’s right. “It didn’t help that Mum confessed she felt like she’d missed out after helping at the florist today.”
Abbie laughs. “Corey said she’s a natural.”
I smile. “Don’t tell my dad.” I take my first sip of wine and hum. “Nice.”
“It’s a new one.” Abbie turns the bottle towards me. “This month’s case is all French, and it’s not helping my urge to escape to Paris.”
“Maybe you can, now you have a new apprentice.” I smirk over the rim of my glass. “Shit, this really is good.”
Scooting around the counter, Abbie heads for the two-seater in front of the TV and drops down. “Now, let us talk about something more interesting than your father’s ancient values.”
“Like?” I ask, joining her.
“Like the stinking-hot businessman at Arlington Hall today.”
I bite at my lip, restraining my grin. “I didn’t think he could look any hotter than in a suit.” More wine. “Then I saw him virtually naked.”
Abbie throws her head back, laughing. “I’ve never seen you flustered before. That alone means you have to go to dinner with him.”
“That may be so, but Mr. Stinking Hot didn’t divulge his name, so I have no way to contact him and retract my decline of his invitation. Not that I should. Or would.” My stomach flips.
“He’s worth breaking your cardinal rule for.”
“What rule?”
“No sex on a first date.”
“He’s seen me virtually naked, and I haven’t been on a date with him.”
“Outrageous.”
I pout, trying to push back my mortification. But not so much the memory of that body glistening with sweat. Lord have mercy. I slowly sip my wine, falling into a daydream. I’m good with my hands.
“Amelia!”
I jerk, looking at my friend. “What?”
Abbie grins knowingly. “You were thinking about him.”
“I was reliving my embarrassment.” Anyway, enough about me. “How’s life on the dating apps?”
She huffs. “I’ve given up.” Then she falls into her own little daydream, and I know that she’s thinking about Mr. Romeo. That’s not his name; she doesn’t know his name, it’s just what he’s been known as between the three of us since Abbie came back from France two years ago. One night. It was just one night. The best night of her life.