Maxine hoists her shoulder bag a little higher, fitting it snuggly under her arm. A body language expert would say she’s fidgeting from the tension floating through the air, but I know it’s because she’s attempting not to bash it against Tieran’s head for dismissing her.
“Meet me at my hotel tomorrow, and we can arrive at Selfridges together. It’s best to get there early, so we can make sure everything is to our standard.” Toherstandard, she means.
My mother turns, strutting out of the still-open doorway, leaving me to follow behind her to close the door. When I do, I take a minute, staring at the back of the door with my hand still on the knob like I might run after her. Begging her to see me as more than a cash cow, plead with her to tell me she’s proud of me, ask her if I didn’t have all this wealth and fame if she would still love me. Does she really love me with it?
But I don’t, because I know the answer already.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Strong arms band around my waist on the exhale, and Tieran’s mouth drops to my shoulder kissing me softly over the fabric of my blouse.
“Come on, Hellfire, let’s get some food in you and talk about what an absolute delight your mum is.”
I snort out a laugh, happy to have the tension broken as he grabs my hand and leads me to sit down and eat. Tieran settles in behind me on the couch, strong legs bracketing me where I sit on the floor while I start to dig in.
Silently, I pass him a samosa, leaning lightly against the dragon tattooed around his knee, too exhausted to pretend I’m not rattled. His hands snake their way around my shoulders, digging in and kneading until the tension starts to slowly dissipate.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, continuing his ministrations.
“No.”
“Alright, we can jus—” he starts.
“It’s just…” I turn slightly to face him. “Where does she get off?”
“It—”
“She shows up at my door, and I’m supposed to be happy about an unannounced visit? I need at least one business week to prepare myself to see her.” Tieran digs his thumbs in deeper, working in concentric, hypnotizing circles that forces a grunt from the depths of my throat. “London was supposed to be my safe place, but even here, she’s inescapable.”
“But you don’t want to sack her?”
I drop my biryani back into the container. “I do. But then I feel bad for even thinking it. She’s done so much for my career, and it feels ungrateful to repay her by firing her.”
“You paid her for all those things, though, so there’s no need for repayment. She was doing a job.”
“Yes, but?—”
Tieran’s fingers move from my shoulders up under my chin until he’s twisting my face to look in his eyes. “When was the last time she was a mum to you, Jade?”
I search his eyes as I spend an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to find the answer to that question. The longer it takes for me to reply, the more devastation fills his eyes.
“When was the last time you let anyone take care of you?”
Tingles dance around my nose as tears threaten to build. “I don't know,” I whisper.
His hand makes its way from under my chin and coasts up my jaw before coming to rest on the side of my neck, his fingers twining in my hair. Dazzling blue eyes search my face before resolve sets in them, and next thing I know, he’s craning his neck down and placing a soft kiss on my lips.
It isn’t rushed or dramatic, but it settles something within me while simultaneously making me feel cherished—loved.
And when he pulls away, I feel as if he’s taking a piece of me with him, a piece Iwanthim to have, because I know he’ll safeguard it. I know he’ll treat it as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, the little piece of my heart that only beats for him.
“Eat up, gorgeous, because I’m taking care of you tonight,” he says right before placing a sweet peck to the tip of my nose, hopping up from the couch and moving into my bathroom.
I don’t think anything of it, continuing to inhale my food at an alarmingly rapid rate until I can’t possibly take another bite.
After several minutes, Tieran still hasn’t come back, and I’m getting mildly concerned about what could be taking him so long. When I go search, though, I find him checking the temperature of the bath he’s just drawn me. The tiled room is softly illuminated by the candles I have spreadabout, one on the counter and one on the small corner table by the tub. Lemon and honeysuckle waft through the room, and when he looks back at me, tanned hand glistening with bubbles and water, my heart almost bursts.
“You—” I’m speechless, mouth gaping open like a fish, because I can’t quite believe it. “You ran me a bath?” The words come out soft and nearly inaudible.
