Page 25 of His to Keep
“That’s all you can ask for, honey.”
“Freddy, these choccies are to die for.” She swiped another truffle and nipped a bit off.
“Awk, they’re nothing. I just whipped those up for you, hon.” He rearranged the snacks and moved the tray of truffles closer.
“You have a real talent in the kitchen, Freddy.”
“Aww shucks.” His teeth sparkled behind a wide grin. “The long term plan is to have my own restaurant. Marcus has been helping me with a business plan, but it’s a long way off. I need the finances in place.”
“Sounds amazing. Where would you open it?”
Freddy tilted his head. “Ideally, New York, but realistically that will never happen. The funding alone would be more than I could cope with. Marcus pays well, and he gives me ahugebonus every Christmas, but I would still need a massive business loan.”
“Maybe you should start small and look for somewhere in the Belfast city centre area?”
He shook his head. “I want to move on from Northern Ireland, Lana. I’m young, free and ready to take on the world. Plus, I want to find Mr. Right Now, and the pool of potential guys has been exhausted.” Freddy chuckled.
Lana tucked her knees into her chest. “All the rich, hot guys have commitment issues, don’t they? It’s like a requirement these days.”
Freddy chucked the TV remote on the armchair and reversed into the couch beside her. “Your pee must be made of liquid gold ‘cause the guy is obsessed with you.”
“I hardly think he’s obsessed.” She laughed softly. “Anyway, I drink gallons of water. My mum had the importance of water drummed into me from a young age. My pee is crystal clear.”
Freddy grabbed a fist full of crisps. “Sneeze diamonds then?” he mumbled through loud crunches.
She clucked her tongue and swatted his knee. “I suppose it’s got nothing to do with my first-class personality? Not that I’ve got much of that lately. I hate feeling like this all the time. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder and flinching when I hear a noise. It’s doing my head in.”
His laughter lines softened to serious creases. “What would you say to me, if I was in your shoes?”
She hummed in her throat and waggled her brows. “Oh, you’re good. Reverse psychology. I get it.” Lana clubbed his chest with a cushion.
“Marcus went away at a good time. It’ll make you realise that you’re stronger than you think,” he told her, while he plumped the feathers in the cushion and tucked it behind his head.
Her knees drew into her chest. “I’m worried it’s all too good to be true, and maybe he’s getting bored, like I’m extra baggage. You know, the stuff you chuck out at the airport when your case is weighed and it’s too heavy.” She scraped her nails down her arm anxiously.
“Has he compared you to dirty knickers or old flip flops?” His smile snapped wide.
She slumped into him and pressed her forehead to his shoulder, giggling low in her belly.
“Oh, Lana.” He paused theatrically pressing his palm to his heart. “You’re like a well-used pair of knickers,” he said, imitating Marcus’s deep husky tone. “Look, out of all the women in the world, Marcus has you waiting at home for him. That’s saying something.”
She beamed. “I’ll have to make it up to him when he gets home.” Her stomach flipped when she thought about being in his arms again.
Freddy slapped his hands over his ears. “Too much info. La, la, la, not listening…”
Her phone vibrated amongst the snacks on the coffee table. “Oh, there’s lover boy now.” Freddy snorted out a laugh.
A silly grin ached her cheeks as she snatched up the phone. “Finally,” she muttered beneath her breath.
Looking at the text message on the screen, she shook her head lightly. “It’s Amanda. She wants to know what I’m up to because she just saw Marcus going into The Fitz Hotel with a woman.”
Lana’s heartbeat paused in limbo as all the scenarios ran through her brain at a million miles per hour. The phone dropped from her hand when she settled on betrayal as the only possibility. She jumped up and hurried out of the room with tears misting her eyes.
Hiding under the duvet in her bedroom, she sobbed into her pillow.
Why did he bother to make me feel special and wanted, only to run off with another woman the minute he left my side?
“I’ve been played,” she muttered to herself between ragged breathes, clinging onto the pillow like it was a life raft. “I love him,” the painful words whispered into the tear sodden pillow case. “He doesn’t love me back. This just proves it.”
