Dee shook her head. “Not tonight, but tomorrow I’ll take you for tacos.”
“Will Ro come with us?” He looked at me only this time, those eyes the same as his aunt’s and I could never say no to them either.
“Yep, if it’s okay with Dee.”
I saw her shake her head from the corner of my eye. “Soft touch.”
“Yep.” I nodded at her. “Are you staying at Genny’s?” I knew the answer, but one of the things the therapist had advised Dee to do was to make Toby feel as if he was in control over himself as much as was sensible.
He pointed at Genny. “We’re making pizza!”
Genny was too busy talking to Gus, her hands in flow gesticulating mode. Gus looked pissed off, shaking his head at whatever she was saying. I frowned at Dee, who was looking over at them too.
“No idea what the issue is.”
The issue became more of one when Genny, the club’s meticulously organised central processing unit slapped Gus around the face.
There was a moment of silence, the two of them staring at each other, before Gus stormed off and Genny walked over to us, her usual calm demeanour back in place. The awkwardness in the room was quickly filled with people being distracted with something else. I heard Jesse tell a really bad joke, one which got far more laughs than he would usually.
“Did Toby see that?” Genny looked at Dee as soon as she got to us.
Dee nodded. “He did.”
Genny squatted down to Toby’s height. “That was wrong of me, and I shouldn’t have hit Gus. Please don’t copy what I did.”
Toby nodded, clutching my hand. “Will you get into trouble.”
“Yes. I will. Now shall we go and make that pizza?”
That was all it took. Toby started to chatter about what toppings he was going to have and walked off with Genny. Genny didn’t even look back.
“What was all that about?” I frowned at Dee. “She’s just slapped our manager.”
Dee shrugged. “I’ve no idea. She’s never even mentioned Gus. If she says anything, I’ll tell you.”
“What about girl code or whatever sh… name you call it.” I was trying not to swear as much. Toby had copied something I’d said last week and I’d felt really guilty. A fucking five-year-old was calling the shots over what I said.
Dee smirked at me. “Doesn’t count with what I tell you.”
“Ahhhh. Because I’m your boyfriend.” It was my turn to smirk.
She just rolled her eyes and walked away, me following after her.
Whipped. I knew I was whipped. I wasn’t sure I cared.
We headed straight to the hotel from the grounds, both of us already having brought overnight bags with us. The hotel was in the centre of Manchester, a discreetly labelled building with security on the door and rates that were expensive enough to keep most people away. I didn’t want us to be gawped at during dinner, or while we used the rooftop pool, so I’d picked this place carefully.
Dee was smiling as we entered, the concierge taking our luggage. “I always wanted to know what it would be like to stay here.”
“Never been before?”
She shook her head. “Out of my price range. You?”
“With Rhys one night. It was just before I signed for Athletic. I made him pay.” Because the cut he’d got from my signing fee had been more than enough. I was fucking glad at that point that it had been with Rhys and not an ex-girlfriend or a hook-up I’d been trying to impress.
“Poor Rhys.” Dee had met him a couple of times now, and they’d gotten on. I suspected he was going to make a move to be her agent at some point, but that was up to them to sort out.
“Poor Rhys nothing.” I definitely didn’t have any sympathy for him.
