Page 94 of All the Forbidden Things
Billie
Iwake to the sound ofmy phone vibrating with a text, and a banging headache. Scooting up the bed into a sitting position, I rest my back against the headboard and reach for my phone to read the message.
Mel: Kris Kringle has been drawn, you got Max! £50 limit xxx
Because the band doesn’t usually get together for Christmas, they do a Kris Kringle at Thanksgiving when they’re all together.
Between visiting my aunt, college, and work, I’ve been in the States for the last five or six Thanksgivings and had completely forgotten about this tradition Mel and Marnie had started.
I snort as I wonder what the worst present fifty pounds can buy me is as I get dressed and head downstairs.
“Looks like it’s even too cold for the vultures this morning,” Mick says as I slide into the passenger seat next to him. He gestures with his chin towards the gates. There’s not a single reporter or photographer in sight. “Whitney will be hating that she’s no longer headline news,” he adds.
Just wait till next month when news of the divorce breaks, I think.
“How’s the head?” Mick asks before I can respond to everything else he’s already said since I got in the car.
“Sore, and I’m out of coffee again.”
“Not surprised, you were a bit wobbly last night.”
“Yeah, I’m not a big drinker, and it’s been a while, so it hit me a lot harder than usual.”
“You wanna stop on the high street and grab a coffee?”
“I absolutely would.” I give him my best smile.
“There’s a place by the chip shop. You wait in here, I’ll go in and get it.”
“Make sure you claim it as an expense.”
“I can shout you a cup of coffee, Spice. Flat white, no sugar?”
“You are amazing, Micky, how do you remember that?” He hadn’t had to stop for coffee for me in years.
“Part of the service, sweetheart.” He winks as he climbs out of the Range Rover.
Micky Doyle looks like a real-life Mr Incredible. At around fifty-years-old, six-foot-four tall, and shoulders almost as wide, I always feel safe when he’s around. His square jaw and cropped, light, strawberry blond hair, all just add to his superhero look.
Micky returns ten minutes later with coffees and muffins for each of us. I place my coffee in the cup holder and take a bite out of the blueberry and poppy seed muffin. As soon as we pull off, a call comes through the Bluetooth system of the car.
“Boss man?” Micky answers.
“Hey, Mick. You took Billie to get her hair done last night, didn’t ya?”
“Yep.”
“Did you pick her up after?”
“Yep.”
Mick looks across at me, winks, and smiles.
“Where’d you drop her?”
I frown and shrug at Micky, having no clue as to why Max needs to know this.
“Walked her right to her front door, Max.”
