Page 55 of Filthy Rich Temptation
‘Good work, Mista Tanna!’ she declares, handing me the glitter-encrusted glue-stick like it’s an award.
I blink at it. ‘I always wanted to win an Oscar.’
She grins. ‘More toast!’
‘I think you’ve had enough toast.’
‘But I want toast.’
‘And I want a lot of things I can’t have in life…’
Your mum being one of them.
‘Called growing up, kiddo.’
That cheeky pout makes a return. And heaven help me, I’m already caving…
‘Okay, okay – just one more slice.’
And that’s when it hits me. Like, truly hits me.
Sadie’s not the only one changing. I am.
A month ago, if someone had told me I’d be toddler-talking my way through a Monday morning, juggling a multi-million-pound deal and sequined carbs, I’d have laughed them out of the building.
And don’t even get me started on the mess, the noise, and all the things I couldn’t cope with when Katie was in my space.
But now?
I’m enjoying this. The chaos. The tiny feet thudding through my space. The way Lottie commandeers the sofa as her pirate ship, squealing with glee whenever she discovers stickers hidden under cushions like long-lost treasure. I don’t even mind her turning my poor fern into a tiara stand. It gives the thing a quirky, lived-in kind of charm.
And Sadie…
She’s lighter. Brighter. Still a little wary. Still carrying something heavy in her eyes when she thinks I’m not looking. But she’s glowing more each day. Her laugh’s easier. Her shoulders looser. And when she comes back from her run, hair wild, cheeks flushed and round with her smile, she looks free.
Like she’s finally finding herself again.
And me?
I’m the guy up to his eyes in glitter glue and chaos, finding a side to himself he never thought possible. A side that’s softer, messier, and somehow more alive.
And Axel accused me of living for my work… The man’s got a nerve.
* * *
Sadie
By the time I hit the final stretch of my run, my lungs are burning – a glorious, cleansing burn that reminds me I’m alive. Still here. Still moving. Still free.
It’s a wet summer’s day, the sky heavy and grey, but nothing can touch this mood. Adrenaline hums in my veins. Endorphins fizz. I’m all about the rhythmic beat of my trainers hitting the pavement and the rush of being out in the world… the warm slap of the rain only adding to the sensation.
Lifeisgood.
I slow as I near Theo’s building, weaving through the steady morning rush – suits huddled under umbrellas, dog walkers wrangling their wet-fur monsters, gym types dripping with rain or sweat (who can tell?), and teens slouching towards the bus stop with no coats and even less enthusiasm.
And then I smell it.
Coffee.
