Page 92 of All the Forbidden Things
Norah leaves as I haul my short-arse up onto a barstool, pull out my phone, take a couple of pictures, and send them off to Dan and Kenzie. I think about sending one to Max, but I’m still pissed off that he’s said those things about me to Whitney.
Glam Dan: Where TF are you?
Me: Bombshell hair and beauty @ Belsize.
Glam Dan: What? They serve cocktails?
Me: Yep!
Glam Dan: That waiter is FAF. Gurl, I’m all over this.
“Hey, I’m Freddie. What can I get you tonight?” The waiter interrupts my texting as he places an antipasto platter and a small bowl of trail mix in front of me.
“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love an espresso martini, please.”
“Coming right up,” he assures me with a wink and a smile.
By the time Micky pulls up on the drive outside my little flat, I’m two espresso martinis and four glasses of prosecco in.
I also have fabulous hair and on-point brows and lashes.
The alcohol has me buzzing, and I’m feeling a little better about myself than when I left the house earlier.
Micky walks me to my front door and puts the key in the lock when I can’t seem to find it. He kisses my cheek and pulls the door closed behind him. I lean my back against it and wait until I hear his car pull off and the gates close behind him before I head back outside and across to the main house.
It’s only a little after eight, so I’m not expecting Max to be in bed, and I’m not sure if I want to get in, “borrow” a bottle of wine, and get out before he notices me, or if I’m hoping he catches me red-handed.
It’s not until I open the door to Max’s bar fridge, I remember I was supposed to text him when I got back from the salon. Pulling a bottle of prosecco out, I decide to go home, send the text, and invite him over. Closing the door quietly, I’m about to leave when I hear Max’s voice.
Moving to the hallway, I listen:
“Sit her up a bit more. She needs to be upright to bring up her wind.”
“I’ve got her, she’s fine … She’s all you, you know Max. I see nothing of me in her at all, which probably isn’t a bad thing,” Whitney says.
“She’s pretty long, so I’m thinking she’ll be tall like you.”
The voices are coming from Whitney’s room.
“Well, being tall won’t hurt her. Obviously, with our genes, she’ll grow up beautiful. If she’s tall, too, who knows, she might even become a model.”
It’s like a punch to the gut knowing he’s in there with Layla, the three of them together, playing at being a happy family.
I head back the way I came and start making my way through the laundry when Deana says behind me, “Oh, hey, Billie. What the hell you doing hiding out in the laundry?”
I plaster on a smile and turn around. Holding up the bottle, I move my index finger to my lips in a hush gesture. “I’m stealing Max’s wine. Don’t tell him. I’ll replace it tomorrow.”
“Of course . . . hey, would you like someone to share that with? I feel like I’m completely cockblocking those two.” She gestures behind her with her head. “Max has been in there with Layla all afternoon, and the conversation has been getting flirtier by the minute. I’m running out of ideas to make myself scarce.”
Bile burns my throat as the Kahlua from my martinis curdles in my belly with the bubbles from the prosecco I drank earlier, and I fight not to throw the messy combination back up.
“I’m actually going out.” I lie. “Turn right at the top of the stairs. The spare room is next to the family bathroom. Don’t use the one next to it, that’s Karen’s.”
I don’t wait for her response before heading back to my little flat, throw up into my toilet, clean my teeth, take off my make-up, and crawl into bed with only my newly cut and styled hair, my waxed and tinted brows, and my tinted lashes to witness me cry.
“You’re a stupid girl, Billie Wild, a stupid, stupid girl,” I whisper into the darkness while wondering how many times I’ll have to tell myself this before it finally sinks in. Max might not be interested in getting back with his wife, but he’s also not interested inmeif he’s spent the day flirting withher, I just need to get my head around that.
Max
