Page 33 of Kiss Me, Mr. Bridge

I dash to the bathroom to blot the stain, leaving my phone in my room, underneath my pillow.

When I return, Violet’s smile turns wicked. “So how old is he?”

“There isn’t anyone,” I reply just as quickly.

“Yes, there is. Violet is open about her relationships. I told you all about being cheated on, so why are you keeping your secret lover from us? We tell each other everything.”

“He isn’t a secret lover.” I groan, hating I’ve admitted to something.

“Ah!”

And then my phone rings out. I recognize the sound I assigned to Ronan and go to answer.

“Now!” Amelia yells.

Violet tackles me onto the couch, pinning my arms. “Got her! Find her phone.”

“Let me go!” I squirm, but she’s surprisingly strong.

Amelia sprints to my bedroom. My stomach drops, but then I relax when my phone stops ringing. She’ll never find it.

“This is for your own good.” Violet laughs. “We look out for each other. What if you went missing? How would we find you? Who would go down for your murder?”

I huff. “Oh my god, Violet. You are so dramatic.”

She kisses my cheek. “It’s just a bit of fun,” Violet says, tightening her grip. “But you shouldn’t hide things from your best friends. I tell you so much you know when I ovulate.”

“I really don’t need to know as much as you tell me.” I shake my head as Amelia storms back in, my phone clutched in her hand. Her face is red and thunderous as she turns my phone so I can see the message her father sent me.

I’ll deal with Amelia.

I swallow hard. This can’t be happening.

Chapter 9

Ronan

The violent knocking at my office door is the only warning I get before Amelia storms in. She glares at me, her face flushed with rage.

Once inside my office, she slams the door behind her, but I’m used to my daughter and her tantrums. I was also warned by Lucia.

“What the hell is wrong this time?”

“You! You are a disgusting, perverted old man!” she spits, her eyes narrowing to slits. “How dare you sleep with my best friend?”

Fuck! I never expected her to take it so badly.

I lean back in my chair, trying to project an air of calm despite the tightness in my chest. “Amelia, I—”

“Fifteen years, Dad!” she cuts me off, her voice rising so many octaves, my ears hurt. “You’re fifteen years older than her! Can’t you get anyone your own age to spread their legs for you?”

I clench my jaw, anger flaring hot in my gut. “Watch your tone, young lady. This is my business, not yours.”

“The hell it isn’t!” Amelia slams her palms on my desk, leaning in until we’re nearly nose to nose. “She’s my best friend. You’re taking advantage of her, and I won’t stand for it.”

Amelia has always been my headstrong child. My son Oscar is surprisingly calm and Olivia is so focused on her life, nothing fazes her. But Amelia, she’s a fiery Leo and boy does it show.

She is also too spoiled, but if she thinks she can tell me what to do, she is so, so wrong.

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