Page 77 of A Flower for Angus

When Molly knocked at the door with her toast and coffee, she yanked it open so the girl could proceed through to the desk.

“Where is Mr. Sangster this morning?” Molly asked gaily as her plump backside jutted out in her jeans when she set the tray on the desk. When she turned back, her rosy cheeks and healthy glow faced Poppy with a beaming smile.

Poppy glowered at her. “He’s returned to Scotland,” she replied sourly. “He had business to attend to.”

“Oh, he was such a lovely man,” she gushed. “His Scottish accent was hot, even though he’d be too old for me, of course. Maybe I’ll go to Scotland one day.” She bustled towards the door with all the exuberance of someone twenty-five years younger than Poppy.

Poppy didn’t answer as Molly sailed out the door and closed it behind her. Opening her laptop, she waited impatiently for it to boot while she poured herself a cup of the bracing brew.

After 30 minutes, she finally realized the figures on the screen hadn’t changed and it was hard to concentrate. Her thoughts kept returning to Angus.

Finally pushing the chair back, she got up and wandered around the mansion feeling lost. She stepped into Julians’ bedroom and shuddered. The bed was made, all the crime scene tape was gone, and it looked just as it might on any normal day, yet everything was different. Although she and Angus had technically never had sex, they were more intimate than she’d ever been with Julian. That saddened her for some reason. Like those years she’d lived had all been focused on numbers and business instead of focusing on each other. She supposed that some of it was her fault. She’d never loved Julian, she realized. He’d been a port in the storm of her lonely life. A port that she’d docked in and never left. Sighing, she closed the bedroom door.

As she walked around the mansion, she was acutely aware that there were no pictures of her family among the many generations of Condoloro’s on the walls, or around the fireplace. On the hearth in the living room there was one lone picture of her, Adrian, and Julian. Any other pictures she had of Andrea and her grandbabies were in her bedroom. The one place in the entire pompous mansion that was hers.

There was no sense of belonging here, there never had been. She’d been looking at other properties, intending to buy a little place of her own that she could make uniquely hers. She and Angus had even toured a few homes and he’d made helpful comments. He wasn’t a fan of the mansion either.

Heading back downstairs, she got another notification from William. Irritable, she dialed the return number, then told him that he was the CEO and to make the hiring decision himself. He was the one going to be working with the man.

By the time dinner time had rolled around, Poppy hadn’t done anything productive the entire day except mope around. Edna never showed her face, but then she rarely did. She and Edna were like ships that passed in the night in this oversized mausoleum. No sense of kinship to one another. What was she even doing here except bailing out her mother-in-law’s butt?

Missing Angus terribly, she went into the bedroom he’d used and sat on the bed. Molly had already made it up with an entirely clean ensemble of bedding. The bathroom sparkled, the trash cans were empty, and air freshener from the wall socket wafted out a gentle lavender scent. No trace of him remained in the room, it was if he’d never been there.

Shivering she walked back into her own room and dug in her hamper. Finding her prize, she pulled out one of his white undershirts that he’d dropped there when he’d been teasing her. She laid it against her face and inhaled the earthy scent of his aftershave. Then she balled it up in her fist and threw it back in the hamper.

Damn him for leaving her like that!

Swiping a tear from her eye, she decided to go out to Andrea’s and drop in for a visit.

Morgan looked surprised when he opened the door and she stood on the doorstep. He looked around and behind her. “Where’s Angus? You two are usually connected at the hip,” he teased.

“He had to return to Scotland,” she snapped, pushing her way past him and going to the kitchen to find her daughter. She heard her grandbabies laughing in the playroom and could smell something cooking in the kitchen. It smelled like porkchops and rice, a dish that the family loved. Her stomach growled and she realized she’d missed lunch. Angus wouldn’t like that. Oh wait! Angus wasn’t here, so he couldn’t complain, or scold and swat her, could he?

Stupid, overprotective man.

Squaring her shoulders, she walked into the kitchen to find Andrea taking the casserole dish out of the oven. Her daughter turned around, her smooth face pink from the oven heat. Her hazel eyes narrowed. “Why do you look like someone just kicked your dog.”

“I don’t have a dog,” Poppy snapped. “And if I did, I’d just kill whoever kicked it.” She flopped into a chair.

Morgan popped his head around the corner? “Is this girl time, or can I come in?” he asked, shooting a glance at Poppy.

Poppy shrugged. “Do as you please.”

He stepped inside the doorway and took a chair. “I take it Angus going back to Scotland has you upset? The lucky dog. I’d love to get assigned to a post in Scotland.”

Andrea’s eyes widened. “Wait. Why did Angus go back to Scotland?”

“Neamh has some sort of emergency with the sheep and they were really shorthanded, so Darro wanted him back,” Poppy grumbled. “He sneaked off like a thief in the middle of the night and didn’t even say goodbye. He was gone this morning when I got up.”

Andrea jerked her head towards the door as she caught Morgan’s gaze to indicate he should leave. “Now it’s girl time, honey.”

“Are we going to have dinner anytime soon or should I take the kids to McDonalds?” Morgan asked with a sigh as he got up and shoved the chair in. His eyes glanced longingly at the casserole on the stove. Based on past experience, girl time could be a long time and he was hungry.

Andrea took off her apron. “I’ll tell you what, you feed the kids and Mom and I will go to Sonic and get a drink.”

Poppy almost teared up. Going to Sonic for a drink was code for when she or Poppy wanted to talk. There was something soothing about parking there and hashing out whatever was bothering them over ice cream, a cold soda, or whatever they felt like having.

“Deal,” Morgan replied enthusiastically, his tall figure heading for the stove with great relish.

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