She shook her head and grinned. “Pregnancy is just going to give me an awesome excuse to eat weird crap and no one will question it.”
“I eat weird crap and no one ever questions it anyway. Why does being pregnant make any difference?” I eyed the mince pie. Payton had gotten to be somewhat of a decent baker, as long as you didn’t let her near a Sunday dinner or something like that, when she’d be more likely to have a firefighter at her dining table than her guests.
“Probably because when you’re female, you’re expected to look a certain way and if you eat weird shit, someone always raises an eyebrow because you should be thinking of how youlook.When you’re male, there’s less judgement because the assumption is that you’ll burn it off.” The pissed off tone she could have was there with bells on.
“Which is a load of crap. As long as you’re healthy, it doesn’t matter if you don’t look like a coat hanger. I’ve been out with a couple of girls who modelled and with one of them I felt like I might break her when we were having sex. I don’t find rib cages attractive. A decent pair of boobs – totally different thoughts about.”
It had been only me and Payton in the room until Max walked in, stopping in the doorway and looking rather red in the face.
“Are you talking about Victoria?”
He may as well have added an addendum onto that, which wasI will rearrange your nose if you’re talking about my bride to be.
“No. We were talking about how women can’t eat what they want without being judged and I mentioned about a model I went out with was a bit worryingly thin, then compared it to decent boobs. No reference to whose.” Max had never gotten over the fact that I’d seen a tit pic she’d sent him way back when. He’d instructed me to forget it, but that hadn’t been that easy.
His colour settled a bit and I breathed easier, knowing that he wasn’t about to alter my image. Not right now, anyway. I didn’t want him to have a black eye on his wedding photos.
“The media has a lot to answer for.” He sat down. “Imogen’s going to move into Amelie’s, given that Amelie’s moving out. They were talking about it before.”
Amelie had come over for Christmas dinner, splitting the day between us and her brothers and mother. She was just getting back to being on okay terms with her family after spending so many years being ignored by them.
“That just leaves Catrin. If Maven’s here, Lainey’s in Severton and Imogen and Shay are in London, we nearly have the whole compliment of Green cousins.” I was finding this very satisfying, because unlike my siblings, they were all single and more than happy to go out for drinks and dinner. I didn’t feel as much of whatever-the-male-version-of-an-old-maid was, or that I’d been left on the shelf.
“Cat’s rented somewhere in Southwark,” Payton said, with her mouth pretty much full of a combination of melon and cheese. “It’s one bed, so don’t think you’ll be shifting in with her anytime soon.”
I shrugged. “I’m looking to buy a house in the next few months.”
Payton swallowed. “You already have a house.”
“Yeah, but I rent it out. In fact, the new tenant is whoever Max appointed as a junior partner. He’s moving in.”
“She.” Max looked up at me, holding the mince pie I’d been coveting. “It’s a she. We’ve been through this.”
I shrugged. “She, he, whoever. I’ll just be glad of the help.” My department had become overrun with work in the last few months and we’d – or Max and Jackson – had decided that we didn’t just need another solicitor, but a partner to help manage too. I’d disagreed with that, but when I ended up on a ten-day trial, I was overruled, mainly because one of the newly qualifieds made a cock up of epic proportions as they’d needed more supervision.
“Whatever.” I sunk down into my sofa and eyed the pile of gifts I’d acquired. There was a retro gaming system from Callum that I was itching to get set up, a whisky tasting set from Max and a book about seventeenth century poetry from Ava – something I’d become interested in for a specific reason and it had grown. There was tons of other bits too, enough to make me feel like a spoilt child again. “It’s been a good Christmas day.”
“It has.” Payton glared at me. ‘Do you want me to get you another mince pie? You keep eyeing Max eating that and it’s annoying me.”
Max shook his head. “He’s capable of doing it himself.”
“If I move, I’ll explode. Or you’ll need a crane to lift me from the floor.”
I was in luck; Maven and Immy entered, both wearing pyjamas, which seemed like an extraordinarily good idea given the room in them for stomach expansion.
Maven looked better than she had done since I’d arrived. She’d apparently broken up with her fiancé after catching him with another woman. Her refusal to get over it had meant he’d ended her contract being the director in residence of an off-Broadway theatre in New York – he was the artistic director there. She was currently in the middle of both hating him and missing him.
I’d been there and it wasn’t a place I’d ever want to revisit.
“Mave, could you pass me a mince pie, please?” I gave her my most charming smile that I usually reserved for old ladies.
She frowned at me. “This won’t be any good for your abs.”
“My abs don’t care.” I pointed at Payton. “See, men get judged too.”
Payton shook her head. “Give him two mince pies. And could I have one as well, please?”
The door opened again, and this time Owen, Vic, Jackson and Vanessa came in, Jackson carrying the video baby monitor.
