Page 114 of Worth Every Risk

“Not that it’s any of your business.” Matt’s deep, serious voice seeps through the gap in the door, caressing me like his touch. I can’t see them through the gap, but their voices are so clear I know they’re just outside. “But it’s over.”

It’s over?

The words drive a blade through my windpipe. I’m choking and gasping all at once, but trying my hardest to do neither while Alec is standing right next to me. Shock spirals into sadness, tugging me down like an undercurrent I didn’t expect. I cover my mouth with my cupped hand.

I will not cry. I willnotcry.

“I’m glad to hear it. I assume you’ll let her go? You aren’t intending to continue seeing the girl after you fire her, are you?”

“Mmm,” is Matt’s only reply.

“I sincerely hope not. Because—”

“Gemma, this is none of your fucking business.”

“I disagree. Mark’s boys saw the two of you fumbling in public like horny school children. That directly affects me. It has an impact on my life.” Gemma blows out an exasperated sigh. “A hand job, in the middle of Covent Garden. You’re a grown man, Matthew. With a public profile. You’re lucky it was only the twins and not some member of the paparazzi. Or the police. It’s disgraceful.”

I can feel Alec’s attentive stare and I use both hands to cover my eyes. I can’t bear the scrutiny. In the darkness, Alec’s hand falls to my shoulder, and he pulls me towards him, enveloping me in a hug. He’s scrawny compared to Matt, and he smells likebuttercream icing and flour, but the comfort his hold gives me is exactly what I need. I cling to him, desperately trying to stave off the tears prickling behind my eyelids.

“I don’t owe you an apology if that’s what you’re waiting for,” Matt says. “And speaking of Mark’s boys, they’ve been bullying Charlie. He was black and blue at the end of term.”

“Pffft, what a load of nonsense. The boys wouldn’t touch a hair on Charlie’s head. Who told you that?”

“Aries. Charlie confirmed it.”

“I absolutely don’t believe it. The boys are angels. They adore Charlie. In fact, they’ve made him a cake for this afternoon.”

Alec pulls back from me, gesturing at the elaborate cake he’s slaved over and mouthing, ‘What the fuck?’, his face twisting with exaggerated outrage.

Why on earth would they have baked him a cake? Nothing feels right about that scenario…

The doorbell sounds.

“Ah,” Gemma says. “They’re here. I’ll have them put the cake upstairs.”

Panic roars loud and clear. We cannot serve that cake to Charlie. I’d bet my life on it they’ve poisoned the bloody thing with strawberry jam, hoping Charlie will have an allergic reaction.

Before I can think twice, I’m slamming out of the pantry, Alec’s desperate hand clutching at air in an attempt to stop me.

“No.” The word explodes, crazed and uncontrolled.

Both Gemma and Matt turn to look at me. Matt’s anguished gaze meets mine, then shifts over my shoulder to the pantry. His face hardens as Alec steps out sheepishly.

Gemma guffaws. “Looks like you aren’t that special after all, Matthew.” Her gaze drifts lazily over my form. “Your little nanny here clearly likes to cop a feel of any man in the vicinity.”

Matt’s eyes flutter closed a fraction of a second too long, but I’m not going to be deterred by whatever mistaken idea he has about what I’ve been doing hiding in the pantry with Alec.

“You can’t serve the cake the twins made,” I blurt. “Alec’s made a beautiful one. And those boys… they’ll have filled it with strawberries.” Gemma’s eyes pop, and I turn to Matt. “I swear it, Matt. The bruises on Charlie, you ought to have seen them—”

“If you’d told me, I would have,” Matt says, his voice slow and deep and full of a rumbling menace.

I should back down right now. Run away. But I don’t. “There’s no way they’d bake a cake that’ll be any good.”

Gemma cackles, casting her gaze to Matt. “She’s delusional. If you think for a second I’d let the boys make a cake with strawberries in it for Charlie, then you’re just as mad.” Her voice is light, frothy, like all this is inconsequential. “Where is the birthday boy, anyway?” When no one responds, Gemma turns and heads up the stairs. “Guess I’ll go and find him.”

“Please, Matt. Serve Alec’s cake,” I plead when Gemma is gone, tilting my head to where Alec is still standing by the pantry door, his hands clasped before him.

Matt looks from me to Alec and back again. The cut of his jaw is so severe, it makes me want to weep. There isn’t an ounce of softness in his expression. “You think those boys are going to poison my son?”

---