Page 104 of Rough Around the Hedges

“Are you bringing a plus one? I was asked again earlier.”

“Tell them I’ll be with my mother.”

“Oh, thank God. For a moment, I was afraid you were going to say you were bringing that redheaded terror with you.”

The thought of Rose in an elegant evening gown briefly flashed through my mind, and I batted the thought away quickly. Knowing her, she’d have a trowel strapped to her thigh the way an assassin would use a dagger.

Given her propensity for threatening me with her gardening tools, I wasn’t sure she wasn’t secretly an assassin.

“She would rather die,” I replied, adding, “So would I,” as an afterthought.

The last thing I needed was Luke getting suspicious. It was bad enough with my mother fancying herself as some kind of romance guru. I didn’t need my best friend ranting in my ear, although I knew he would be very much against it.

Perhaps he was the sense of reason I needed.

Luke chuckled. “Is Eleanor prepared, or does she need me to arrange something for her?”

“Just make sure we have transportation. She’ll be at my place for the weekend, so have it stocked for her, too.”

“Will do. Anything else?”

“No, just that file I asked for. Thanks. Speak to you later.” I hung up with those words and shoved my phone away, then leant back in my chair and let out a deep sigh.

If this morning was indicative of the rest of my week, then tomorrow morning, I’d just stay in bed.

23

OLIVER

Every Rose Has Its Thorns… And A Dildo

Igot out of my car and stretched my arms, rolling my shoulders back. It’d been three days since our little escapade to the garden centre, and I hadn’t heard from Rose until this morning when she’d asked me to come to the allotments.

‘Asked’ was a nice way of putting it.

She’d summoned me, and here I was like a well-trained puppy, doing exactly what she wanted me to do.

I was in real trouble with this woman.

I’d never been one to be at someone’s beck and call, but Rose Matthews had me running around after her like she was my master and I was her slave.

I walked into the allotments, keeping my chin slightly lowered. I knew I wasn’t exactly welcome here. There wasn’t a single plot holder here who wanted to see my face, and I suspected that was exactly why Rose kept calling me here.

She wanted to see me suffer like the sadist she was.

“I see you made it here in one piece without being attacked,” Rose quipped when I opened the gate to her plot.

“Yes, thankfully nobody thought to weaponise a carrot on my way here,” I replied dryly. “What was so urgent that you demanded I get here within the hour?”

She turned towards me, cradling a black cat in her arms.

A cat?

Where was her beloved chicken? Her snookums, or whatever it was that Isadora called it.

“You have a cat?” I asked before she could reply.

“Yes. You have met before, you know.” She blinked at me. “This is Hades. God of the Underworld. Chief Mouser. Head Rat Catcher. Dreamer of birds.”

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