Page 63 of All Mine
Alex always made the most of the fact that he was the older twin. At every birthday party when they were young, he’d told people that he was born first. As if that made him more important. Until Etienne learned the rhyme, ‘First the worst, second the best, third the one with the hairy chest,’ and then, funnily enough, Alex stopped mentioning it. His phone beeped.
Alex: Happy birthday, Et. Hope we can spend the next one together.
Etienne grinned.
Etienne: Any news?
Alex: Nothing.
Etienne: Let me know when you hear.
There were a handful of cards on the doormat of the restaurant from Katie and some of the other waiting team, old Fred Barrow and others. Mile End Mickey gave him a cheery wave from the kitchen as he shouted through, ‘Happy Birthday, my old mucker.’ Etienne was setting about getting the restaurant ready for the day when his phone beeped again.
Isabella: Happy birthday.
Etienne: Thanks.
Isabella: Can’t wait to give you your present.
He grinned. Today was most definitely going to be a good day.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Isabella
If Gabi and Jesse hadn’t arrived that day and distracted her, Isabella might have self-combusted with sexual excitement. Knowing she was finally going to give in to the urge and put her hands on Etienne made her tingle in all the right places.
Jesse’s first visit to Honeybridge demanded a tour of the town and Gabi was happy to tag along, showing off her newly acquired stunt skills as they went. Walking on her hands along the riverbank, and doing parkour jumps across the bollards marking the square.
‘Believe me, you never know when they’ll come in handy in my line of work. . .’
Nonna pinched the cheeks of her other granddaughter until they were pink and treated Jesse like an adopted grandson, complimenting the precision of his beard and his expensive-smelling cologne.
‘I spray it on my sheets before I put them in the tumble dryer!’ He cupped Nonna’s hand to her ear theatrically, to share one of his trade secrets for being the best-scented man Isabella had ever encountered. That is, until Etienne. That woody fragrance that followed him around was intoxicating.
When she got dressed that night, she put on a silky top with buttons, remembering Etienne’s text messages. She slipped into a mini skirt which sat low on her hip and high on her thigh, teaming it with strappy high heels. Gabi’s eyes widened when she saw her.
‘You look hot!’ she said. ‘Am I underdressed?’
She most certainly wasn’t– with hot pants and knee-high boots, her pixie cut pointed to her cheekbones, she looked perfect, elfin.
‘Special effort for someone tonight?’ Gabi went on. ‘Etienne by any chance? The one whose leg you were nearly humping last time I came?’
‘Pre-drinks for the gossip!’ Jesse announced, joining them with a bottle.
A glass of prosecco later, Isabella had told them of the no-sex deal. Jesse pretended to tip his hat to her.
‘If there’s ever a woman who knows her own mind, it’s you, Isabella. . .’ He winked at Gabi. ‘And you of course, darling.’
Gabi agreed, with an admiring tilt of her head.
‘Good on you, girl,’ she said. ‘Keeping your promise and eating your cake!’
‘Can’t wait to check him out!’ Jesse rubbed his hands together and Isabella made them swear to be discreet, or at least not to make a show of her when they met.
By the time she got to The Bolthole, Isabella was like a fuse waiting to be lit. Rosie whistled as she shimmied out of her coat.
‘He doesn’t stand a chance,’ she said, shaking her head.
