Page 24 of Replay
“It’s fine,” I reply with a wave of my hand. “And I’ll even come along to the meeting with you. I am not saying this to sound arrogant or act like I don’t think you can handle it, but any business that comes to a meeting with a lawyer present adds a level of credibility, so maybe they’ll quit fucking you about.”
Her lips thin, but she nods. “I hate to say it, but I’m sure you’re right.”
“Why don’t we plan to meet again on Wednesday to go over the revisions and make sure they’re right before I print the final copy for Friday?”
“That would be great.”
I close the envelope and press my hand over it. “We can do dinner so that you don’t have to leave Freya home alone again.”
“Dinner?” Her eyes widen. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“You said you wanted to see a bit more of this side of town, right?”
“Aye.”
“Well, I know a great Indian spot that is truly a legend around here. People even come from the pompous west side to enjoy it.”
She levels me with a glare. “Very funny.”
I lean across the table, invading some of her personal space to whisper loudly, “I’m not trying to be funny.”
She backs up to press firmly into her chair as she processes my request more seriously. “I just don’t think dinner is a good idea, Santino.”
“Why not?” I ask, unrelenting.
“You know why.” Her eyes spark with something resembling attraction, which only inspires me more.
I eye her warily. “I know you have been in London for nearly a month and only get out of that house on the weekends. I know that you haven’t reacquainted with your old mates because they are…as you so poetically said earlier…a bag of cunts. Most of Freya’s friends are married and having babies, which is very similar to my friends. Which leads me to the certainty that you could use a mate to see the city with, and why the bloody hell not make that pal me?”
Her face heats as our eyes connect, and just when I think she’s going to reject me and tell me to get stuffed all over again, she nods. “Okay. Indian sounds great.”
“Great.” I rise and grab my suit coat off the back of my chair.
“On one condition.” Tilly’s eyes squint in the morning sun up at me.
“Name it.” I smile cockily.
She hits me with an amused look. “I’ve got to get permission from my brother first.”
“No. Fuck no. Not in a million years. You’ve all lost your goddamn bloody minds.” Freya and I stare up at my brother, who’s, once again, standing in front of their fireplace looking like he’s going to pop out of his suit from all the agitation.
“Mac,” Freya says in a warning tone.
“Don’t you Mac me, woman. I am not, under any circumstances, letting my wee sister go out with that bawbag!”
“It’s not a date!” I exclaim defensively. “We’re just friends…ish. Business colleagues more. We’re looking over the new contract, and it’ll be completely platonic.”
“I don’t give a flying fucktank. You’re not going out with him. I know you told me he wasn’t the one to put you in that position five years ago, but I still don’t trust the bastard. If he wasn’t guilty, then why the fuck didn’t he call you a couple of years ago like he said he was going to?”
I exhale heavily. Mac mentioned to me after our grandfather passed that Santino wanted to talk to me, but only with Mac’s blessing. Well, amazingly enough, Mac gave him the all-clear, but Santino never called.
I don’t know why.
I don’t want to know why.
I don’t want to know what he was going to say because it wouldn’t have changed my situation at the time anyways. At that point in my sobriety, I was still being very careful with my choices. Mac was trying to get me to open up to him more, but I just wasn’t interested. I knew I needed to stay the course. And the fact he thought Santino, of all people, might be able to say something to get me to open up is laughable at best. Especially because he clearly still can’t stand the man.
However, dinner with him tomorrow now feels like a challenge I want to accept. I’m ready to push my limits, and trying friendship out with Santino feels like an exciting new test for myself.
