Page 76 of Fangs for the Memories
“Hi, Grace,” Mark says brightly.
Everything is how I left it, confirming that he has absolutely no idea what he has or any intention of running this place like a business. Or running it at all.
In his hand is a sheaf of papers. On my usually pristine counter, there is a take away coffee cup. Mark is already treating this place like it belongs to him.
I glare at the cup, bringing my eyes up to him. He’s nowhere near as tall as Ferenc, his sandy hair thinning on top already, his watery blue eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. He has the body of a Greek god, providing that god is Dionysus.
“What do you want, Mark?”
“I wanted to check you were okay,” he says, putting the papers down and picking up the cup.
As expected, it’s left a ring mark. I feel like growling.
“No, you didn’t. If you cared how I wasat all,” I say through gritted teeth, “you wouldn’t have embarrassed me in front of all our family and friends.”
Mark doesn’t even blink.
“That’s all you care about?” he says, with the inflection in his voice I’ve come to understand as annoyance.
“You think I care about you?” I scoff. “She’s welcome to you,geciputtony.”
“You learnt some Hungarian on your travels,” Mark says, teeth gritted. “At least you got something.”
“And you got nothing?” I snarl. “You got everything.”
“That was the one thing I was looking forward to,” he says, taking a step around the counter.
I take a step to one side, keeping it between him and me. The last thing I want is him anywhere near me, but also, I don’t want this descending into any sort of tit for tat argument.
Instead I fold my arms.
“Whatdoyou want, Mark? I didn’t come here for the good of my health.”
His eyes flare, and he takes another step towards me. I have to back away again.
“You look good to me, Grace. You’re positively glowing after your little holiday.”
“It’s none of your business anymore.”
I’m still having to back up as he comes at me.
“It might not be, but if you want your business back, then you’ll want to tell me what you found in Budapest,” he says.
I don’t like the light in his eyes. Nor the way his jaw is clenched.
“I think you should go back to your…secretary and leave me alone. If you want to give me my business back, fine. But if it means I have to deal with you ever again, you can keep it,” I spit, surprising myself with the force of my anger.
And the fact I mean it. Even if I built this place up from nothing, it’s not worth keeping if I ever have anything to do with Mark again. The slimy twat.
“Fuck, Grace, when you’re like this…” He licks his lips, and I’m already at the door to the back room, with nowhere else to go. “I wonder why I even left you.”
I can’t stop my lip from curling. “You’ve got a pregnant partner, and you’re coming on to me, the woman you left almost at the altar?”
“Yeah, maybe I knocked her up,” he says, “but she’s become very boring since then. It’s all ‘baby this’ and ‘baby that.’” He huffs. “Maybe I want a bit of fun again, Grace.”
“You disgust me.” I try the handle of the door behind me, but it’s locked.
Even if I had the keys, which I don’t, I wouldn’t have put it past Mark to have changed the locks already. After all, I’ve been gone a month.
