“Sure, hold up.”
She disappears, returning seconds later with the sandwich.
“Thank you, Erin.” I take it from her, biting into it immediately.
She smiles, but a frown creases her brow.
“What?” I wipe at my mouth, thinking I must have pickle there, and my cheeks heat.
“Nothing,” she says. “Your mum called. I wrote down the number, it’s in the office. She said she has been trying to reach you, and the phone had like fifty-something messages on it.”
“Oh, thanks, sorry about that.”
How did she get the studio number? I haven’t answered a call from my mum in weeks, yet she rings every other day like clockwork. I promised myself I’d wait until after the showcase to deal with both my mum and my potential dad situation.
“Don’t apologise,” she says, waving me off.
Her eyes roam the studio, falling on the piano. She walks over to it, gliding her petite, pale hand over the top of it. An aching primal urge wracks through me, and I want to tell her not to touch it, which is odd, considering it’s hers.
She turns to me and smiles tight. “I better get back to it.”
“Of course. Shout if you need me.”
She leaves the studio, closing the door behind her, and I turn back to the piano and stare at it, wondering why she has it here. Leaning in, I run my pointer over the initials I’ve traced a hundred times before. EML.
* * *
Mase
I needto stop allowing my friends in my office for lunch.
And my receptionist.
Although the bastard seems to be growing on me.
“Oh, your poor girlfriend, it sounds petrifying,” George mutters around a mouthful of taco.
“Fucking hell, Lowell. How much is that costing you?” Lance asks.
I lean back in my chair, perplexed. “No idea; I don’t even want to know to be honest.”
“And Nina, she was okay?” Charlie asks.
“Yeah, she had a small bruise on her head, and she is sore, but otherwise okay.”
“Jesus, mate.” Elliot shakes his head. “Good ‘I can make your head feel better sex’ though, am I right?” He grins, and I flip him off.
“I had an accident once, Mason. I was on my way to Alton Towers and my—”
“We don’t give a shit about your accident on the way to Alton Towers, George,” Lance tells him, cutting him off.
Lance can be a proper prick sometimes, but he’s a solid friend. He knows more than the boys do about me, and the fact he hasn’t shared that information confirms that I can trust him. The boys would be pissed if they knew I kept things from them, Elliot especially, but some things are better for everyone left unsaid.
“Don’t listen to Sullivan, George. What was it you were going to say?” I tell him, shaking my head at Lance with a smirk.
“So I was on my way to Alt—”
My phone starts to ring, cutting him off again. “Sorry, Georgie.” I accept the call and raise my phone to my ear. “Vin?”
