Page 39 of Taste

“Because he would’ve gone for you with everything he had. He would’ve brought you down. I’ve seen Mark angry, and he would have unleashed every bit of his fucked-up idea of revenge, right on you.”

“He still did.” I sat on a rickety chair, watching Mabel in that posh-looking swivel chair Mark had convinced our purchasing lead to let him order, claiming his back needed more support than the regular hotel chairs the rest of us mere mortals had to sit on. Typical Quinton pompous grandeur. “He still unleashed it all on me.”

“And you were at his throat from day one. It wasn’t likeyoucould control yourself.”

“Did you expect me to?” I asked. I was serious, too, because I may have got over our break-up, but the scars were still there.

“It’s been fifteen years. We were two immature kids who should never have been allowed to rent a flat, let alone get married. Thank God we didn’t have a mortgage.”

“Or a poodle.”

“Did you pay off your student loans?”

“Yeah. Did you?”

“Last year.”

“Well done.”

“Fuck you.”

I laughed at the profanities coming out of Mabel’s too-pretty mouth. Smiled in relief when they reached for my hand.

“Finny, we were wonderful. The two prettiest twinks in Soho, remember?”

“Always,” I whispered.

“I’ll always love your stupid arse, you know that. But you have to find someone to look after your beaten-up heart. There’s someone out there desperate to make you whole again, but you’ll keep pushing them away out of fear. I know you messed up. I messed up too, trust me. But you can’t be frightened forever. You need to be happy. Mark needs to be happy. It might surprise you to hear this, but if there’s one person I trust to look after the person I care about most in this world, it’s you. I trust you to love the shit out of my boy, and not hurt his shitty little heart. I know it will be messy because, yeah.”

“Then I’ll never get rid of you,” I joked, though the emotions were dancing in my head.

“No, you won’t. There will always be a spare wheel in your and Mark’s relationship, but I’ll be the most fabulous wheel. And you’d better let me be your maid of honour. I have the perfect dress.”

“Mabs…”

“I’ll make you a deal. I promise to stay out of your way, but I need Mark for myself too. Once a week. Shopping and lunch. And every second Saturday so I can take him out dancing. Monday nights are a given, and you need to come too. No excuses. In return, I’ll be good and not interfere. I’ll even forgive you when you deadname me.”

“You can deadname me right back.”

“Finny—”

“I’m never getting married again. That was a one-time-only thing.”

They pouted. I laughed, squeezing their hand.

“Luffs you. Always, Finny-darling.”

“You too.”

“Now go away, let me sort out these covers in peace, and I might ring Mark for you later and figure out if he’ll let you see him. But that’s only if you behave and don’t give me any more trouble. Also, I want the crockery back from Mr Nick-it-all asap. We’re fucking short for the conference tomorrow. Clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Did you see her Insta story? We need a third season ofRuPaul’s Drag Race, and I need Crystal to be a guest judge. Or Sum Ting Wong. Love Sum Ting. So much.”

I left, shaking my head in laughter as the radio crackled to life, Elizabeth’s voice coming through again, her tone sharp and clear.

“Emergency. Ambulance. We just found someone collapsed in the hallway on floor twenty-six. Floor twenty-six. Male, elderly, Not breathing. Over.”

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