Claire
I hadn’t even managedto get one foot through the front door when a slow clapping started.
“Nice walk of shame, sis.”
“Oh, bite me, Isaac.”
“What’d I do?”
“You look like shit. Have you even been to bed?” I asked, dumping my bag on the kitchen counter before grabbing a glass and filling it with water.
“Not my own.”
“Ew! I don’t want to know.”
“Well, seems I’m not the only one. Where were you?”
“Out with a friend?”
“A friend, huh? A male friend I’m assuming.”
“You know what they say about people who assume…”
“Yeah yeah. It makes an arse out of you and me. But seriously, Claire, you’re all good?”
Good? I was fucking floating on cloud nine. The last eighteen hours with Seth had been amazing. Unexpected, but amazing. When Mary had led the horses towards us, I almost dropped to my knees and sobbed. I was still pissed at Dad for not telling me he’d had to put my own horse down, which I’d only found out about a couple of days ago, but when I was cantering along, in the waves, I couldn’t not enjoy myself. With the wind whipping about my hair, I felt free. And maybe even more importantly, carefree.
“I’m okay.” I shrugged.
“And how was at it at home with the parents?”
“You mean other than the fact that my horse is dead, Mum tried to get me set up to work at ‘Bed Head’…”
“With Sharon?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow! What colour is that woman’s hair these days? Last time I saw her I think it was purple.”
“It’s a weird blue, lilac colour now I guess.”
“Shit! How’s she even get clients there?”
“Lack of options?”
“Has to be it.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“And Mum wanted you to what exactly?”
“Take over. Learn the ropes. Build up my relationships with the clientele.”
“Clientele? Are you kidding me? Most of those busy body old bats have known you since you were in nappies.”
“I know,” I groaned, dropping into the couch and closing my eyes. I was getting a headache just worrying about this shit.
“You’re not going, are you?” Isaac asked, a tremor in his voice.
