Page 204 of The Girlfriend Clause
At dinner. And the clothes fitting. And the wedding. And everywhere else for the last month.
This entire time he’d been thinking—
And he’d never once said a thing.
“She’s a model,” I said quickly. “Over fifties stuff like support tights and hemorrhoid cream. Cialis, once. She gets free samples sometimes.”
He looked at me like something new was coming online in his brain. “So in your flat that time—”
“Hers.”
“And the—”
“ErectaGel? Also hers.”
“Right.” He rubbed his chin and frowned. “I did briefly wonder if you had an aggressively hopeful skincare routine.”
“I don’t think it works on… facial skin.”
“Mmm.” He nodded. “Probably wouldn’t. So your mum’s an actual model?”
“Yes. Just… less couture, more… condition specific.”
“Well,” he said, “she certainly makes incontinence look enjoyable.”
A snort escaped before I could rein it in.
“You didn’t hear that, did you?” I asked.
He grinned. “Hear what, babe?”
*
Back in my kitchen, Liam leaned against the counter, easing a corkscrew into a bottle of wine. Sometimes, when I looked at him like this, just hanging out, I could hardly believe it was just so… easy.
“White okay?” he asked.
“Yes, please. Whatever’s cold.”
He nodded and turned back to it. I kicked my shoes off and picked up my phone from the table.
Oh. Sebastian’s name. He was finally getting back to me.
I opened it.
Sebastian:Hi, Andrea. Sorry for the delay. Just wanted to confirm the sale of your Montclairpiece went through today. Buyer was Roth Holdings. £17K. Funds should clear this week. Congratulations.
I read it.
Then read it again.
Oh myGod.
Behind me, the cork gave a soft pop.
“That was easier than expected,” Liam said. “I thought it’d fight me more.”
Roth Holdings. £17K.
