“I don’t want to be bankrupt,” she said quietly.
“No one does,” Cat said.
Olivia slowly drew her money into one pile.“It seems like a mean game.”
Jillian gave a small shrug.“It’s not meant to be nice.It’s about being clever.Like real life.”
They started the game slowly with Cat explaining the rules as needed.Jillian corrected Cat twice—once on how to collect rent, and again when Jillian thought Cat called MayfairMayfield.
“It’sMayfair.”Jillian’s tone was firm, authoritative, for a moment sounding very much like her father.“Named for the May Fair that used to be held there centuries ago.It’s the most expensive property on the board for a reason.”
“I know Mayfair.”Cat gave her a small, mock bow.“I think it’s my American accent that made it sound wrong.In either case, my deepest apologies to the good people of Mayfair.”
For the first time, Jillian laughed, a proper laugh.“You are forgiven.This one time.”And then as if realizing what she’d done, her smile disappeared and her mask dropped once more leaving her expressionless.
They played on.Olivia rolled doubles and squealed, eagerly moving her piece the right number of spaces.Jillian cheered as Olivia landed on King’s Cross Station, which was one of the northern gateways with trains to Newcastle, York, and far away Edinburgh.
Cat watched the girls relax and have fun.They were lovely when being themselves, Olivia bright with curiosity and Jillian warm and confident.
Jillian was good at the game and enjoyed her moves and successful rolls and purchases.She also enjoyed it when Cat didn’t do well and laughed out loud when Cat landed onGo to Jail.
“At least I have theGet Out of Jail Freecard,” Cat said primly, “anda sense of humor.”
That earned Cat another reluctant grin from Jillian.For a few turns, it felt almost easy—the kind of domestic, rainy-afternoon calm that could almost fool you into thinking everyone at this table belonged together.
They took a break to eat dinner, the shepherd’s pie having been warming in the oven and then resumed play.The board was now cluttered with the small green houses, tidy stacks of cards, and rumpled piles of money.Jillian’s money was not rumpled, and she excelled as the banker.She even kept a small sharp pencil tucked behind one ear.
“You’re so good at this,” Olivia said admiringly as Jillian replaced her first set of houses with hotels.
“Don’t feel bad,” Jillian answered.“This is the first time you’ve played and you’re doing great.Look at all your houses.”
“In the poor part of London.”
“You’re all right, Livy.Don’t get discouraged.”
They were still playing when headlights cut through the darkness outside.Olivia was yawning more frequently, and the board was covered in hotels, most owned by Jillian, when the front door opened and Rhys entered the cottage.
“Dad’s home,” Olivia said, jumping up.
Jillian froze abruptly before piling her money together and returning it to the bank.“I won,” she said, flatly.
Rhys entered the kitchen, his dark hair damp, his shoulders impossibly broad in the narrow kitchen.“Well,” he said, voice warm with surprise as he saw what they were playing and how the board was red with hotels, “it looks like someone’s been running a real estate empire.”
Olivia grinned and pointed to her sister.“Jilly ownseverything!Even Mayfair!”
“Of course she does.She’s strategic,” Rhys said even as his gaze went to Cat.“Everybody have dinner?”
Heads nodded and Jillian cleared the hotels from the board, dumping them into the cardboard box.“May I be excused?”she asked formally.
Rhys frowned as if aware of the change in mood but not sure what was behind it.“If that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.”Jillian practically stormed out, her footsteps heavy on the stairs.
The kitchen felt emptier without her, and after a moment Olivia gave her dad an apologetic smile before following her sister upstairs.
Rhys rubbed a hand over his face.“What did I say?”
“Nothing.”
