Page 81 of Toy Boy
“Good... Listen, Megan, Scott’s going to be here tonight.”
“I’d kind of gathered that. And…?”
“You know he’s in a new relationship?”
“With Tania. Yes, I know. Look, Tim, Scott and I – we’re divorced. People do realise that, right? So, he can see whoever he wants to see, it has nothing to do with me. I’m just glad he’s moving on.”
Tim smiles, but it’s a weak one. “Yes. So am I. Anyway, you go and enjoy the party. Oh, and thanks for the cake.”
“My pleasure. But that was all Hanna’s work. I can’t take any credit for that. I just got it here in one piece.” In the back of my tiny van, with Xander holding onto it to make sure it didn’t get damaged in transit.
“I’m off to try some now. Chocolate always has been my weakness. I’ll catch you later, Meg.”
“Yeah. Later.”
I glance over at the bar at the back of the conservatory, where Xander’s deep in conversation with a tall red-head… Tania. And I’m guessing her and Scott probably arrived here together, so he must be around somewhere…
So…?
I need some air, so I head outside onto the terrace, look out over the beach, and take a long, deep breath.
“Are you okay, Megan?”
I spin around to see Greta – Tim’s wife – standing behind me, a friendly smile on her face, and she doesn’t give those out too often, believe me.
“Yes, thank you, I’m fine. I just needed a breather.”
She glances back over her shoulder, jerking her head in the direction of the bar, where Xander and Tania are still talking.
“You should try and drag your young man away from her.”
My young man…???
“She’s an incorrigible flirt.”
I smile and gratefully take the glass of champagne Greta offers me. “She’s also harmless.”
Greta’s mouth forms a harsh line, and I feel my stomach dip again, and it’s not a pleasant sensation.
“Are you trying to tell me something, Greta?”
“You know that she and Scott…?”
“Are together. Yes, I know.”
My stomach takes another nosedive, but I try to ignore it. I breathe it out, and I will Greta to go now. To leave me alone.
“To be honest, they deserve each other.”
“Is it really necessary to be so judgmental all of the time?”
I hadn’t actually meant to say that out loud, and I gently bite the inside of my cheek as Greta’s mouth tightens again, her eyes narrowing. “AmI being judgmental?”
“Yes. I think you are.”
Her expression hardens, and there are times when I’m just a little bit scared of Greta Featherstone. I think this might be one of those times. “You do know the two of them had a – I wouldn’t call it an affair, as such, but I know the two of them had some kind of involvement, back then.”
I can feel my brows knitting together. “Back when?” But I already know the answer to that.