The Dare Collection: March 2018. Nicola Marsh

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       CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

      Tanner

      THE MOMENT I heard Abby’s mother offer her a patisserie I should’ve eased away from the door and headed back to the kitchen.

      When we’d initially heard Abby’s raised voice, Remy had sent me to the front to investigate but I’d stopped short when I’d peeked around the half-closed door and spied Abby in a standoff with a woman.

      I had to admit curiosity had got the better of me when I’d heard Abby call the immaculately dressed, perfectly coiffed older blonde ‘Mum’.

      So this was the dragon that’d abandoned her daughter for an entire year. She didn’t look so bad. Then again, most people had thought my father looked like a frigging saint and he’d had the black soul of a devil.

      I’d been so proud of Abby, standing up to her mother. But it sounded like this wasn’t the first time they’d met up. I’d heard something about Abby being ambushed outside TAFE.

      Which meant she’d lied to me. She’d said her parents hadn’t been in contact over the last twelve months, yet she’d obviously seen her mother. Why would she keep that secret?

      If I’d needed proof that she only saw me as short-term fling material, this was it. Obviously I wasn’t to be privy to her family dealings, not when we had a clear expiration date.

      A date I’d deliberately brought forward today.

      I hovered at the door like a goddamn sneak, long enough to witness their happy reunion. Abby had forgiven her mum. She’d accept the patisserie. She’d be welcomed back into the family fold. Who knew? She might even find some other rich prick from her social circle to hook up with.

      Wasn’t any of my concern. That ache in my chest had to be heartburn from downing three steaming espressos at the hospital.

      In a way, Abby’s decision made things easier. I’d had a gutful of being second best growing up. This time, I wouldn’t stick around to be anyone’s second choice. Never again.

      Leaving them hugging and in tears, I backed away from the door. Time to hit the road.

      When I strode into the kitchen, Remy was flicking through one of Abby’s notebooks, covered in her flowing scrawl and overflowing with recipes cut from newspapers and magazines.

      I’d teased her about the many notebooks lying around her apartment. She’d said it was her thing, to let it go, but I’d loved watching her sit in her favourite armchair, idly flicking those pages, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, as a small satisfied smile played about her mouth.

      She loved her job and it showed. She’d be a great pastry chef, good enough to give Remy a run for his money. Good luck to her. Pity I wouldn’t be around to see her success.

      ‘What happened out there?’ Remy flipped the book shut and laid it on the bench. ‘Abby sounded upset.’

      ‘It’s her mother.’

      Remy gaped at me, like I’d announced a visit from the Queen. ‘She’s here?’

      I nodded and jerked a thumb over my shoulder at the front of the patisserie. ‘They’ve made up.’

      ‘Good for her.’ The concern clouding Remy’s eyes didn’t dissipate instantly. ‘That family has a lot to make up for, abandoning Abby like that.’

      ‘I agree.’ I made a grand show of looking at my watch. ‘Now that you’re back, bro, I’ve got a ton of work to catch up on. So take it easy. I’m outta here.’

      I should’ve known Remy wouldn’t let me leave so easily. ‘But you’re coming back, right?’

      I could’ve made up some bullshit story. But this was Remy. I couldn’t do it. Not to him.

      ‘No.’

      A short, sharp refusal that hung in the air like a stinky pall. Heavy and oppressive. Stifling anyone unlucky enough to be near it.

      ‘You’re leaving?’ Disgust curled Remy’s upper lip. I didn’t blame him. I disgusted myself too.

      ‘I’m staying in Sydney but I won’t be around here to help any more.’ I thrust my hands in my pockets, alarmed to find them shaking a tad. This was it. The break from Le Miel. And Abby. ‘You’ve got it covered. I’ll check in on you at home and if you need me for anything, just call—’

      ‘You’re running scared. Again.’ Remy spat the words out, staccato and stabbing. ‘Let me guess. You’re not even going to say goodbye to Abby.’

      Feeling like a low-life bastard, I shrugged. ‘I’ll call her—’

      ‘You’ll call her? How fucking magnanimous.’ Remy sneered, his loathing nothing on what I felt myself. ‘I can’t believe I thought you’d changed, that this time might be different.’

      I shouldn’t ask. I really shouldn’t, but I found the question spilling from my lips. ‘Different, how?’

      ‘You’ve looked lighter, happier, than I’ve ever seen you.’ Some of Remy’s anger faded as his face relaxed into an expression bordering on antipathy. ‘I knew it was Abby. She was good for you. And judging by the way she lit up earlier when you walked in the door, I’d say the feeling is mutual. But you’re going to screw it up again. Run like you usually do. Pretend that you’re a big tough guy not affected by your past, when in СКАЧАТЬ