Page 51 of Gold Digger
Hmm, she could think it was fake if that would keep her from freaking out for now. But to be honest, since yesterday, I’d had a massive sense of satisfaction thinking about Lottie as my future wife without “fake” once coming into the equation. But I was well aware that I’d been a dick to her for weeks and that my intention to keep her and Hayley for good at this stage might make me look a little crazy – with good reason.
“Sure.” I shrugged. “It’ll keep Mum from setting me up with a string of annoying women. You can deter my crazy ex-girlfriend, who’s been a real problem recently. I’ve got a million charity galas coming up, which you’ll make vastly less dull.” She blinked at that, and her lips tipped up just slightly. She liked me saying that she’d make something less dull. Not the most effusive compliment but it had clearly worked on Lottie, and I guess compared to all the insults I’d hurled at her recently it was a big improvement. “And you can helpmelike you help Vicky.”
She jerked in surprise at that as her gaze snapped to mine. “What do you mean? You don’t need the same help as Vicky.”
“I know you do more than help Vics interact with people. Your abilities are valuable in business. You must realise that?”
There was that small smile again just as the bedroom door opened, and Hayley emerged, dragging a massive bin linerwhich was overflowing with toys. She huffed and puffed her way to her sister, dumped the bag at her feet and then planted her feet wide with her hands on her hips. When she looked at me, I gave her a wink and a grin. When she smiled just like her sister, I knew that I’d won.
Chapter 24
I made your sister sad, didn’t I?
Lottie
It was weird coming here and not immediately starting to clean the place. Hayley clutched my hand after we’d helped to lug the last of our belongings into the hallway. This space looked even more imposing with our pile of possessions stacked in the centre of it. I felt a hot, reflex snap of shame as I looked at everything we owned. We had some suitcases and boxes, but the rest was in bin liners. I hated fudging bin liners. Foster children get far,fartoo acquainted with them, seeing as that was invariably what our stuff would be packed up into when we had to move. By the end of my years in foster care, one of my bin liners was stuffed full of soft toys. You might think that was a good thing, but the bigger the collection of cuddly animals you had, the more you’d had to move. Every new home would produce one for you on your arrival. I developed a hatred of that bag of toys, but whilst I was still in foster care, I’d never had the heart to throw them away.
It hadn’t taken more than two trips to move the stuff from Ollie’s car, and the pile itself only took up a tiny percentage of his hallway floorspace. Granted, the hallway was blooming massive, but it still made me feel slightly pathetic. And that wasafter Ollie had pulled my laptop out of a box I’d earmarked for the dump with a raised eyebrow. I’d had to explain how it had died which led to a deeply uncomfortable conversation about my psychology course being “on hold”. Ollie had just looked at me for a long moment, the tic in his jaw the only sign of his extreme annoyance, before he gave me a short nod and hauled the box to his car.
“Well, I guess you know all the rooms, Lottie,” Ollie said as he strolled in with another full bin liner to add to the pile. “Which ones will work for you?” I mentally flipped through the house’s ten bedrooms and scrunched my nose. The truth was, there simply wasn’t a single room in this house that Hayley would feel comfortable in. I bit my lip as I glanced down at her. She was staring at the library – probably wanting to go and tuck herself away with the books up in the mezzanine again. I cleared my throat to speak, but my words stuck in my throat when the front door swung open, and in came Margot.
“Yoo-hoo!” she called as she swept into the hallway, a big smile on her face. I took a step back, pushing Hayley behind me. Her smile dropped somewhat as she took in my retreat. To my surprise, Ollie let out a low growl. When my eyes flew to him, I realised he was furious.
“Mother,” he snapped, and I blinked. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him snap at her or call herMotherbefore – it was always Mum. “I told you to stay away from the house for the moment whilst Lottie and Hayley settle in.”
“Pish posh,” Margot said, waving away his concerns. “I’m allowed to pop in and say hi.” She leaned to the side to get a better look at Hayley, who was glued to the back of my legs. Hayley saw a lot more than adults gave her credit for. And she’d liked Margot that day when she’d driven us to minor injuries. Margot had even managed to get a couple of smiles out of her, which back then was almost unheard of. After Margot droppedus back at the flat that day, and it was just us again, Hayley had referred to her as the “nice lady with sparkly ears” (her diamond earrings were huge) “and toffee sweets in her bag”, which coming from Hayley was high praise.
But then, when she came to the flat a few weeks later, despite the fact that she was just as smiley with Hayley and gave her a toffee sweet like before, Hayley could feel the tension in the air, could feel the threat. I found that sweet in the bin later still in its wrapper, and there were no more mentions of the nice lady.
“Hello there, Hayley. I swear you’ve grown a whole foot since…” She cleared her throat, and her gaze shot to me, clearly not wanting to complete that sentence and bring up our last encounter. “Hello, Lottie,” she said softly, as if worried she might spook me.
“Hi,” I managed to get out past my thick throat. Hayley tugged on my jeans. When I turned to look down at her, she gave a quick shake of her head, going back another step and tugging me to move with her. Hayley was totally ready to walk away from the thick atmosphere, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. Margot’s eyes moved to the pile of our belongings in the hallway, and if the floor could have swallowed me up at that moment, I would have jumped at the chance. The tension was too thick now, and I didn’t want Hayley exposed to it. So I turned to her and dropped down to her level to speak softly.
“Why don’t you check out the books again, lovebug.” She was still eyeing Margot over my shoulder, but at the mention of books, her eyes shot to mine and her expression lit up. “Off you go.” Hayley threw one last wary look from Margot to me, and I shook my head, dropping my voice to a whisper. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” She leaned forward to put her hand to the centre of my chest then to hers: her non-verbal I love you. As she dashed off into the library, I felt her loss as a buffer acutely. But I’d been through worse than this. I’d had people judge me my entire life.
I cleared my throat as I straightened to face her. “Lady Harding,” I said and, thank Elton John’s glasses, my voice was steady, “I realise that I’m violating the terms of our agreement by coming here. I want you to know that I will pay the money back. It’s not all there at present as I’ve had some expenses that were time critical and?—”
“Your sister,” Margot said softly, taking a tentative step towards me.
“Mum,” Ollie said in warning, and she stopped in her approach. I couldn’t feel the anger or annoyance I would have expected from her; all I could feel was warmth, discomfort and regret.
“I know why you needed the money, remember?” she continued, still in that soft voice.
I nodded, and she took a deep breath, but I cut her off before she could speak again.
“Yes, so some of it is gone – I had back payments to her therapist. But I can set up a payment schedule. I’m earning more now, you see, and?—”
“Yes, you’re working for my daughter now. Aren’t you?”
I nodded slowly. “Yes, but the agreement was just your son, as I understood it. You never specified that?—”
“No, Lottie, I’m not angry that you’re working with Vicky,” she said with a frown. “How could you think…?” she closed her eyes for a moment, “Of course you’d think that. I’ve given you no reason not to, have I?”
I didn’t know how to reply. I mean, of course I assumed she would be angry that I was working with Vicky. If the woman disliked me enough to buy me off one of her children, of course she wasn’t going to be happy with me spending every working day with another.
“Lottie, you’re really helping Vicky,” she said. “I’m not angry about that.” She took another small step towards me but thenhalted when Ollie made another warning noise. “I’ve never been very good with figures,” she said, and I tilted my head to the side in confusion. “But my daughter tells me that you’ve made her company over three point three million pounds since you started ‘helping’ her.”
My eyebrows went up. “Er… Lady Harding, I don’t do any wheeler-dealing. I don’t cut any deals. I just help Vicky read the room.”
