Page 85 of Valentine Nook
On second thought, maybe Alex is worse at lying than me.
“C’mon, Al. I’m sure Haven will call you back at some point. Maybe she’s busy. Or did you check that you definitely had the correct number for her store?” Miles asks, wrapping his arms around Alex’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug.
“Get off me,” he snaps in return.
Thankfully, it’s enough of a distraction for the conversation to move away from Holiday and back to the reason I’m here in the first place.
“Orlando,” my mother snaps. “What do you intend to do with that?”
She’s pointing at the envelope on James’s desk.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I suck in a cheek. Alex and Miles stop dicking about, and the room falls silent.
“If you promise not to mention my dating life until the end of the year, then it can go back in the drawer.”
I don’t know why I give the end of the year as a deadline, except by the end of the year, Holiday will no longer be in Valentine Nook.
My mother pushes out of her chair and smooths down her shirt and trousers. “I can live with that.”
No one moves until Miles slaps his thigh. “Right. On that note, I’m going over to Foxleigh. Any of you losers want a ride up to the house?”
Itake Miles up on his offer, and he drops me off at the front door.
On the way, we pass the side of the house where the Burlington staff live when they’re on duty. It’s also where everyone parks their cars, and it’s the nearest spot to the kitchen entrance.
“Isn’t that the car you gave to Holiday?” Miles points toward the cleanest car in the lot.
The cleanest of all the Burlington Estate cars, anyway.
The rush of adrenaline is instant, even when I try to bat it away, given Miles’s presence.
“I don’t know.”
“It is. I’m certain it is. I recognize the number plate as it’s parked outside my cottage every day.”
“So?”
“So are you sure you want me to drop you at the front door?” He snorts. “You can just get out here.”
I don’t bother to deign a response, but when he pulls up at the hall and I hop out, he calls me back.
“Lan, I meant what I said the other day. It’s good to see you more like you again. Fuck Caroline and fuck Jeremy. You deserve to be happy, and if Holiday Simpson makes you happy, then I say you should go for it. If you don’t believe me, you should take a look at that photo, if you haven’t seen it already.”
For a moment, I’m too choked up to speak. Miles, for all his annoying habits—of which there are too many to mention—is also incredibly intuitive, kind, and loyal to a fault. Jeremy was his friend too, and I know that neither he nor any of my siblings have spoken to Jeremy since.
“Thanks, Milo.”
I don’t even bother turning left to my study. I march straight across the hallway and down a short passage to a set of stone stairs, following it until I arrive at my destination.
The scent of sugar and cinnamon fills the air, and I hear Pierre’s thick French accent through the door.
Peering around quietly so I can watch without disturbing them, Holiday’s leaning over an impressive ball of pastry. She’s all red cheeks, puffing away a strand of hair while dangerously wielding a rolling pin like it’s a baseball bat.
I rarely come down here, so I wasn’t expecting there to be so many people, but I suspect that Holiday’s presence has the exact effect on the Burlington house staff as Miles does in the estate yard.
I don’t manage to stay secret for as long as I’d hoped.
“Oh, Your Grace. Can I help you with something?”
