Page 25 of Not So Happily Ever After (British Bad Boys)
“Um, why?” Can I sound any guiltier?
“I’m going to the Algarve to interview Waldo, but I’ve wrangled it into a long weekend. With benefits. There’s a group of us going. Wondered if you were interested in an all-expenses-paid mini-break.”
Wow. Any other time I’d be packing my bags already. It’s not the first time Margo’s done something like this, and when she talks about an all-expenses-paid trip, she’s not kidding. The BBC loves her, and it’s five-star all the way.
“Bleeding Waldo,” Duke mutters, referring to the derogatory nickname of the minister who’s involved in the latest political scandal. “He needs a good kick up the arse, and I’ll give it to him.”
“I’d love to,” I tell Margo. “But I can’t.”
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Dad frowns at me from across the kitchen. “You’ve worked so hard this summer. You should have a break before going back to university.”
I was going to tell Dad about my weekend plans, but I didn’t intend doing it in front of an audience. Not that it’s a big secret, obviously. And Margo and Duke are practically family in any case. They’ve known Will forever.
Brazen it out.“I am. Will and I are going to Wales for a couple of days. His friends own an adventure camp in Snowdonia.”
“That’ll be nice,” Margo says.
“Don’t break a leg rock climbing.” Duke grins at me, and I do ahar-harface back at him.
“The mountain air will do you good,” Dad says. “Clear out the cobwebs. You’ve been looking a bit peaky lately.”
I don’t even know where to start with that comment. First, I’m definitelynotpeaky, and even if I was, since when does Dad notice stuff like that?I’mthe one who tellshimwhen he needs to take a breather from work.
“I’m fine.”
“Take some time out just for you.” Margo gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “Give yourself a chance to think about things.”
What things?She can’t possibly have guessed how churned up I am about Will. That would be too mortifying for words.
Of course she hasn’t.Stop leaping to conclusions that have no basis in reality. I’mnotchurned up over him anymore. We’ve had the talk, and we’ve moved on.
We didn’t really talk about it at all.
Shut up.
“Recharge your batteries.” Dad pats my shoulder and gives me the familiar sad smile that always hurts my heart. I know that when he looks at me, he’s reminded of Mum. Not just because I have her eyes and bone structure—it’s because I’m following her career path. Because, if I don’t screw things up, I can make a difference.
Like she did.
“You’ll figure it out,” Margo says.
I don’t even know what she’s talking about now. Not Will, that’s for sure. Which is a relief. The last thing I need is her asking me awkward questions in front of Dad.
…
Will
Keep it platonic, and you won’t fuck this up.
I park on the drive outside Mac’s house and exhale a long breath. The mocking chant’s been rattling around inside my head since the last time we saw each other on Tuesday night.
The night I invited her to spend the weekend with me.
Were you out of your fucking mind?
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Still does, if I can remember one simple rule.
She’s off-limits.
