Page 97 of The Betrayal

Font Size:

Page 97 of The Betrayal

“Look who finally arrived,” Reese chimes, standing up to greet Connie. But as I go to stand, Connie tells me to sit then wraps her arms around me, kissing me on the cheek.

“I've had a morning,” she huffs, falling in her seat with a thud and grabbing the cocktail menu.

“That bad, huh?”

“That bad,” she calls the waitress over and orders a margarita.

Jealous.

“Oh, go on, I’ll have one too,” Reese claps her hands together.

Bitch.

“Can you make me a virgin one?” I bat my lashes and the waitress nods, and my little heart is happy.

“So, care to elaborate?” Reese asks Connie.

“I came on, flooded the bedsheets. I mean, this is not out of the norm for me. It happened back when I had to hide away with Kaleb at the lodge in the Hamptons,” she rolls her eyes, “so I stripped the bed.”

“Standard,” I pipe up because I love a worked up Connie.

“Idiot,” she scoffs. “Went to put the washing in the machine, it's full. Go to unload it and place in in the dryer...”

“Let me guess?” Reese smirks.

“You don't even need to,” she shoves Reese a little hard.

“Where is Doris?” I ask, taking another sip of my iced tea.

“Kaleb gave her the week off,” she crosses her arms against her chest.

“Damn, how dare she have a well-deserved break,” Reese giggles into her drink and Connie side-eyes her. Man, she is pissed.

“Anyway,” she snaps, “I sort that out and put the dryer on too so I have half a chance of getting the blood-stained sheets into the washer before I leave, so I thought I would make myself a coffee only to find that my wonderful boyfriend has used all the creamer then put it back into the fridge... empty!”

“Oh dear,” I roll my lips and Reese is sniggering.

“So, you didn't get your coffee?” I ask.

“No, I didn't and the fucking dryer didn't get it done in time so now I have one wet load still waiting to dry and I have period sheets on the floor of the laundry room so Kaleb can deal with that once he has finished his gym workout. Tosser.”

My brows lift. “Tosser?”

“Yeah, it's a British word, picked it up from,” and she thumbs beside her to Reese.

“Tosser is a brilliant word,” she sighs as the waitress brings the drinks over and Connie downs it in one.

“I'll have another,” she licks her lips as I sip mine.

“Food?” The waitress asks.

“Three lobster rolls and fries.”

“Of course,” she smiles at us all, collecting our menus and walking away.

Standard Sarabeth’s lunch.

Reese slipped away to the restroom, and once I knew she was out of earshot, I lean across the table as my eyes narrow.




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books