“And she is my assistant,” Trevor said before eating another fry. “Anyone who says otherwise can go back to their own home.” He gave each one of them a hard look.
“Dude, you just posted bail for me. It’s none of my business.”
He nodded. “Good. And on that note, I’m going to bed.”
He stood, dropped his fries on top of the coffee table, and walked out the door.
Chapter 16
As soon as he was out of earshot, Monica threw Allie a smug look. “The two of you are totally doing it.”
“Shut up, Mon,” Brynn said. “At least she doesn’t have a criminal record.”
“Now, now, girls. Let’s not fuss.” Mags clapped her hands. “Monica, Frances prepared you a room across from Brynn’s. She can show you the way.” When Monica and Brynn just stared at her, Mags gestured in a shooing motion. “Well, go on. Get to bed.”
Allie had never seen Mags in such a commanding mood before. She seemed almost maternal.
Once they were gone, Mags began gathering wrappers, packages of ketchup, and the rest of Brynn’s tots, tossing them into a sack. “Your sisters are charming, Allison.”
“Thank you. I’m not sure how charming Monica is these days. We did just bring her home from jail, after all.”
Mags placed a hand on Allie’s arm. “You know why Trevor is doing all this—bailing out your sister, allowing Brynn to stay here?”
Allie didn’t want to discuss Trevor. Besides, talking about him to Mags felt like a betrayal somehow. “You know Trevor, he’s unpredictable. He can be nice when it suits him.” She wadded up the napkins and tossed those in the sack along with her uneaten burger.
“Nice?” Mags actually threw her head back and laughed. When she sobered, she tilted her head, her eyes sparkling. “Trevor’s never been nice. Not even as a child. No, my darling Allie, he’s in love with you.”
***
The next morning at the breakfast table, Trevor glanced up from his phone. “Why are you staring at me?”
“No reason.” Allie lowered her gaze to her plate, but her eyes had other ideas and, against her will, kept returning to his face.
“Do stop, Allison. It’s annoying. Unless this is your subtle way of telling me you’ve forgiven me and want to fuck?”
“It’s all about fucking with you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s been four frustrating days, and I’m so goddamned hard all the time, I could cut rocks with my cock.” He glared at her, as if it were her fault.
In a way, she supposed it was, but her mistress duties had been derailed by the arrival of his parents and her sisters—and of course his own ass-clown behavior.
Mags had been so far off base last night it was laughable. Trevor didn’t love her. He wanted her. He even wanted her forgiveness—at least he seemed sincere about that—but it wasn’t love.
“So, what do you want to do, English, throw down on the breakfast table?” she asked.
He leaned toward her. “God, yes.” Trevor gave her a look of such longing, such heat, she felt seared by it. He picked up her hand and brushed his lips across her palm.
Maybe she could lock the door. A quickie would take what, ten minutes tops? No, what was she thinking? His parents were in the house, and her sisters. And she was still mad at him. But when Trevor touched her like this, every rational thought fell out of her head.
Then Mags and Nigel walked into the room. Trevor dropped her hand like it was poison. “Oh, you two again.”
Mags, swathed in the green caftan she’d worn the night before, lowered herself into a chair. “I’ve been rethinking the wedding.”
Nigel, dressed in a paisley robe, poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down next to Mags. “Do you know what sounds good this morning? A round of golf. Eh, Trev? Let’s hit a few.”
“The whole thing is all wrong.” Mags pressed her hand over her heart and her large diamond engagement ring winked in the light. “I simply can’t do it.”
“I knew it wouldn’t last. When are you leaving then?” Trevor asked.
Mags raised her brows. “What are you talking about, darling?”
“The wedding.” A little smile played on his lips. “I knew you wouldn’t go through with it.”
She laughed. “Who said we’re not going through with it?”
“You did, just now. Not two seconds ago.”
“I bought new clubs. Let’s give them a go,” Nigel said. “Haven’t got much play in lately.”
Mags touched Nigel’s sleeve. “Darling, I’m parched.”
“I’m terribly sorry, my love. Would you like juice or coffee?”
“Both, of course.”
“Goddamn it, Mother,” Trevor exploded. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t yell at your mother, Trev. It’s bad form.” Nigel rose, and as he did, his robe parted, giving Allie a full view of little Nigel. Which wasn’t so little. And it appeared as though he manscaped. Everything.
She tried to hold it in but couldn’t. Erupting with laughter, she slapped a hand over her lips. Shaking, tears ran down her face.
Trevor turned his angry gaze on her. “What the hell has got into you?”
“Your father just flashed me,” Allie said, trying to catch her breath.
Nigel smiled. “Whoops.” He returned from the sideboard and placed a glass of juice and a cup of coffee in front of Mags. “Sorry that you saw my dangly bits, Allie. Sometimes the boys need fresh air.”
She tried to stop but wound up laughing harder. His parents were bananas.
Trevor clenched his jaw. “You”—he pointed at his father—“there are children in the house, you perv. Wear some fucking clothes to the table.” He pointed at Mags. “And you. You said you were rethinking the wedding.”
“What? Oh.” Her brow cleared. “Red’s not the right color. And now we’ll have to change the flowers. And of course the cake I picked will never do.” She sighed and sipped her juice.
With jerky movements, Trevor stood. “You two are leaving today. Do you hear me? I’ve had enough.” He marched to the door and threw it open.
“We’re not golfing then?” Nigel called after him.
***
Trevor strode to his office. They were a pair of nutters, his parents. After all these years, he still didn’t know why he let them burrow under his skin. But when his father flashed Allie, Trevor couldn’t keep his anger in check. For God’s sake, the man had not an ounce of shame.
A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. Allie poked her head inside. “I’m going to run home and talk to my dad.”
“Fine.”
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I assume you’re referring to the two barking mad people who made me?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yes, them.”
“What the hell is the point of getting married? They’ve had ten weddings between them. Why go through it again?”
Allie walked to his side of the desk and perched on the corner. “Marriage obviously means something to them.”
He rubbed his chin and made a disgusted snorting sound—one that was very unbecoming. He vowed never to make that sound again. “It’s just another excuse for my mother to plan a party.”
“I’ll bet every time they take those vows, they have the best of intentions.”
Trevor laughed. “Did you hear yourself just now? Vows, as in promises.” He waved his hand. “Their intentions are bloody pointless.”
She toyed with the hem of her pink dress. “Would vows mean something to you? I mean, if you made a promise to someone, would it be important for you to keep it?”
He looked up at her and noticed for the first time that she was sitting on his desk, her bare legs within reach. He wr
apped a hand around her knee. “I don’t want to talk about parents. Or marriage. Or promises.” He slid his hand down her soft calf.
“Of course you don’t.” She gently pulled her leg from his grasp and stood, smoothing her skirt over her hips. “Trevor?”
He wanted her, here on the desk, and to hell with whoever came barging through the door. “Hmm?”
“It’s none of my business, but how long are you going to let Monica stay?”
More complications—his parents, her sisters. He had a feeling there would be no desk sex in his immediate future. “Of course it’s your business. She’s your sister. And I really hadn’t given it any thought. By the way, I bought the house Brad’s been living in.”
Allie stilled. “When?”
“I had my attorney, Alex, make an offer late last night. The landlord was thrilled to wash his hands of it. There are five people living in a two-bedroom house, and they’ve made quite a mess of it. But, I figured at least this way, I could ensure that Monica has a place to live.”
She looked at him, her brow furrowed. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I can.” She seemed surprised, and he didn’t understand why. She already had too many worries, and if this eased her mind, why wouldn’t he?
***
Allie left the office and walked out the front door and around to the garage. Of course he could afford to buy a house. It meant nothing. He did it for you. That little voice that kept giving Trevor a pass when he acted like a jerk, or gave him more credit than he deserved when he did something nice, was getting louder. More annoying and difficult to ignore too.
But this gesture wasn’t personal. Like he said, he did these things because he could, not because he wanted to make her life easier or better. Or to please her. It was his nature to take charge. He was bossy like that.
She walked into the garage and found Simmons polishing a car.
Her feet practically skidded to a halt. “Is that…” She pointed to the shiny Festiva. It looked just like her car but without all the dings and dents. And it was bright, cherry red, not the faded orangey-red she remembered.
Simmons smiled. “Yes, Miss Allison, it’s yours. Mr. Blake had it fixed, painted, and detailed.” He walked around to the front and patted on the hood. “There’s a brand-new engine, new transmission, new brakes and tires. It’s practically a whole new car.”
“This is my car?”
Simmons chuckled. “One and the same.” He snatched the keys off the wall and handed them to her. “Here you go. Take her for a spin.”
Allie cleared her throat and blinked back tears. Trevor wasn’t a sweet man. He wasn’t a kind man. And yet…he had taken in her sisters, he was gentle with Brynn, made sure Monica had a place to stay. He could have totally taken advantage of her the day she was sloppy drunk. Instead, he took care of her. And he’d begged for forgiveness. Now he brought her car back.
She didn’t know what to think about any of this, how to process it. But right now, she needed to talk to her dad, have it out with him once and for all. He needed to start acting like a father again. Then she could think about Trevor.
“Thanks,” she said to Simmons, hopped into the Festiva, and took a minute to appreciate it. It smelled clean and fresh. She started the engine and smiled when it purred instead of clunked.
Trevor. That look he’d given her at the breakfast table—it made her ache. She wanted him too. Four days seemed like a long time without sex—even though she’d lived without for over four years. Now she craved him, like a gambler craved one last bet. But she couldn’t do anything with her sisters in the house, so moot point.
She waved at Simmons and drove home, enjoying the familiarity of her old car. When she pulled up to her house, she saw a strange Honda sitting in the driveway. She snapped off the radio. Who would drop in at seven-thirty?
Allie used her key to let herself in. At the sight of a strange woman walking from the hallway to the living room, wearing one of her dad’s T-shirts and nothing else, Allie yelped. “What the hell?”
The other woman screamed and yanked at the hem of the shirt, trying to pull it down over her hips. “Who are you?” She wore glasses and had chin-length dark hair. She was on the short side and a little heavy.
“I live here. Who are you?”
Her dad walked out of the kitchen, a spatula in his hand. His brows lifted, causing the horizontal lines along his forehead to deepen. “Allie, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Yeah, no shit.” She looked back at the woman. This had to be Karen, the guidance counselor. “What if Brynn was with me? And why wouldn’t I be here, considering Brynn and I left you messages all night?”
His mouth opened and closed. “I forgot to charge my phone.”
“Really? Well, while you were dicking around and not checking your phone, Monica was sitting in jail.”
The color drained out of his face. “Is she all right? What happened? What did she do?”
“I’d like to speak to you in private.” She glared at Karen, her lip curling as she glanced at the woman’s bare legs. Her father had sex last night, in the house he’d shared with her mother. Allie trembled with anger.
“I’ll just go get dressed.” Karen scurried out of the room.
Once she was out of sight, Allie turned on him. “Nice, Dad. Brynn ran away from home, Monica’s in jail, and you’re shagging the guidance counselor.”
He pointed the spatula at her. “I told you not to use that tone with me. Now, come in the kitchen and tell me what happened. I need to flip a pancake.”
She couldn’t remember the last time he’d made himself a meal and he was cooking pancakes for Karen? She tossed her purse down on the sofa and stalked to the kitchen. She glanced around. The place was a mess—spilled pancake batter congealed on the counter, newspapers and mail littered the table, and three trash bags stood next to the back door. Well, forget it. She wasn’t picking up after him this time. Let Karen do it.
He flipped a pancake, then faced her. “What happened with Monica?”
“She was arrested for pot possession and underage drinking. Trevor bailed her out and she spent the night at his place.”
He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “Shit. This boy she’s dating is trouble.”
Allie gasped. “No, you don’t say.”
“I get it, Al, you’re upset.”
“Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not upset, I’m pissed.” She tried to control herself, but her breaths were spastic and her chest felt tight. “You’ve spent the last six months so depressed you could hardly get out of bed in the morning. I’ve been doing everything around here, the cooking, cleaning, shopping, taking care of the girls.” Not to mention keeping them from losing their house and trading out medical bills on her back. Okay, so sex with Trevor wasn’t exactly a chore, but she had traded herself for her family. And it was humiliating. “And now that you’ve replaced Mom, you still don’t give a shit about Monica or Brynn.”
“That’s not true, Allie. I do care, and I could never replace your mother. Never.”
“May I say something?” Karen stood in the doorway, dressed in a skirt and blouse, her glasses gone, her hair combed.
“No,” Allie all but snarled at her.
“Yes,” her dad said.
Karen stepped into the room. “It’s very normal to feel anger when a parent moves on.”
Seriously, a lecture about feelings? This strange woman stood her ass in Mom’s kitchen, then had the nerve to talk about moving on?
Allie stared at the rooster clock and fought for calm. She pressed her shoulders down and took a deep breath, held it for a couple of seconds, then turned back to the woman. “Karen, if you don’t mind, I’d like a private conversation with my father?”
“She can say what she likes. This co
ncerns her too.” Her dad suddenly looked down at the burning pancake. “Shit.” He grabbed the pan, tossed it into the sink, then reached over and flipped the stove switch.
“It doesn’t concern her, it concerns the family.”
“Allie’s right, Brian.” She walked toward him and kissed his cheek. “Call me later.” She smiled at Allie. “It was nice meeting you.”
Allie remained silent until she heard the front door close. “You are unbelievable. You’ve known this woman a week and suddenly she gets to pop off about our family? What are you going to do about Monica? And Brynn? Or are you too busy sexing up your girlfriend to worry about them?”
Ignoring the dig, he leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “What do you want me to do about Monica? What can I do? And I was going to call you about Brynn today. It’s time she came home.”
Allie shook her head. “Forget it. She’s not coming back if you’re letting that woman sleep here.”
His expression closed down. “I’ll do what I like in my house, Allison. And Brynn is my daughter. First, you want me to act like a father, then you veto my decisions. And you’re right, it’s past time I started pulling my head out of my ass. Brynn comes home today.”
“That’s before I knew you were having sex with Karen. Can’t you see how messed up that is?”
“This won’t happen when Brynn’s here. I want her home by tonight. She has school tomorrow.”
“But—”
“It’s not open for discussion.” He gave her his back and hit the taps, filling the sink with water.
Allie felt like she’d been sucker punched. She had done everything she could for him, for their family. And now he was dismissing her.
She watched his tense movements for a moment as he scrubbed at the pan. When he refused to look at her again, she left.
***
Trevor stood at the window, staring out at the garden. He had more than enough work to keep him occupied, but he couldn’t maintain his concentration this morning. What did she think of the car? Was she pleased? He didn’t know why she would be, it was a piece of rubbish, and no matter much paint they applied, it was still an eyesore.
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