Page 67 of Samuel
“You know why I’m here, Maisie. Why don’t you want my money?”
“Sam, this is being dealt with by our solicitors, you shouldn’t be here.”
“As far as I’m aware you don’t have a fucking restraining order on me, so I’m not doing anything wrong.”
I stopped in front of her, noticing the tiny freckles scattered over her nose, remembering how I’d counted them during out night together. There were nineteen if I remembered correctly.
“If you’ve read the letter then you’ll know why I don’t need your money anymore.”
She pulled her bag back onto her shoulder and straightened her back, but the little quiver of her top lip gave it away – she felt nervous and unsure.
“Listen,” I sighed, moving back a couple of steps to give her space and shoving the paper in my pocket. “I know what it says in the letter but I’m not happy about it.”
A noise behind me took Maisie’s attention prompting me to look over my shoulder. A girl with short black hair was coming out of the estate agents where Maisie worked and was looking our way.
“My car is over there.” I nodded toward my black Mazda sensing she felt uncomfortable. “I’ll drive you home.”
Maisie’s eyes went wide with shock. “No. You can’t do that.”
“Do you have a car, because we obviously can’t talk here?”
She looked over my shoulder again and sighed. “The bus stop will be fine.”
Moving quickly, Maisie scurried past me to the car, darting a quick look over her shoulder.
“I take it you know her,” I said, nodding through the windscreen once we were inside.
The girl was taking her time walking away, stopping every couple of yards to turn and look at my car.
“She works with me and is nosey as hell. Can we just go please?” Maisie pulled the seat forward, stuck her head down, and started searching through her handbag.
“Coast is clear,” I said with a laugh as we pulled out of the main street onto a side road.
“Just pull up over there.” She pointed to the bus stop.
“Well that was hardly worth it. Why don’t you let me drive you home?” I slowed down but didn’t stop. “We can talk on the way.”
“Nothing to talk about Sam, you don’t need to send the money any longer.”
“But I want to.” I pulled up and turned off the engine, determined to get her to see sense.
“Why? You didn’t want him, so why insist on giving him money?”
“Because I don’t want to be accused of not supporting him and I’m not that much of a twat. I might not have wanted to do the hands on dad thing, Maisie, but I do want to help.”
She rolled her eyes. “We don’t need your help.”
She looked so damn defiant, with her little chin jutting out, her brown eyes shining with anger, I didn’t find it difficult to remember what I’d seen in her. I’d liked her for a while before the party, but always thought she was too quiet and I’d be too much for her, but I’d been very wrong. She was funny and interesting and fucking hot in bed. She was pretty much perfect, it was me that had the damn issues that made me act like a prick, but I couldn’t help how I’d felt about the prospect of fatherhood.
“You know the money is for F-Frankie,” I said, stumbling a little over his name. “Not your partner.”
“Of course I know,” she snapped indignantly. “And so does he, he can provide for him, for us and doesn’t want you to have to give us anything anymore.”
“Controlling prick,” I muttered.
“What did you say?”
I groaned and ran a hand down my face. “You know, you’re just like my brother.”
