Page 11 of Worth Every Penny

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Page 11 of Worth Every Penny

He’s talking as though the sale is a done deal, and my annoyance rises again. I can’t take much more of this emotional yo-yoing.

Arms wrap around me from behind and squeeze my waist. I yelp just as my best friend Elly releases me and steps into view. She’s grinning, but she takes one look at my teary face and squares up to Jack.

“What did you do to her?” She snarls, and the expression, paired with her wild mane of blonde curls, makes her look like a furious lioness.

I tuck the contract into my bag, knowing it’s confidential and even if I wanted to explain it to Elly, I couldn’t. “Honestly, it’s nothing.”

She raises an eyebrow at me, then glares at Jack, but her hostility doesn’t find its mark as his admiring gaze sweeps over her in return. She looks gorgeous in her white mini dress and cowboy boots, but Jack would look at anyone that way. He’s the biggest flirt there is. “Hey there, El,” he says, his voice velvety smooth.

She rolls her eyes and focuses on me. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just sad Dad can’t be here.”

Elly’s bottom lip turns downward, her blue eyes full of compassion. “Oh, Kate. I’m sure he’s watching you both.”

Her comment hovers undisturbed for a few seconds, and then she hugs me again. “This’ll cheer you up,” she whispers before releasing me and turning to Jack. “I got you something.” She pulls a small tissue wrapped parcel from her bag. Her eyes twinkle, mouth slanting into a smile as she hands it to him. “Happy birthday.”

With a bemused look, Jack unwraps the gift. It’s a tiny statue of a naked man with an engorged penis that rises level with his head.

“Wow.” Jack twists the statue around on his palm, examining it from every angle before his gaze flicks to Elly. “Didn’t realise you saw me this way. Not bad at all. I’m flattered. Truly.”

Elly huffs, and her expression turns serious. “It’s Priapus, the Greek God of fertility, not you. I thought you could put him outside Kate’s spa when it’s up and built. You could have two lifesize versions at the door, like the Beefeaters at the Tower of London, but with enormous dicks and no clothes.”

Laughter splutters from my mouth for the first time this evening. “That sounds terrifying,” I squeak. “It’s definitely not what Dad intended.”

“Yeah, El,” Jack adds, the amusement clear in his voice. “It’s not a brothel.”

“Fine,” Elly snarks. “I’ll leave the creative details to you two.” She smirks. “But when it’s finished, I’m going to be the first one getting naked in the sauna.”

Jack whistles. “I’ll be second.”

She gasps and playfully slaps his arm, and he recoils, pretending to be in pain. Elly bursts out laughing and I can’t resist joining in, a wave of gratitude assailing me that she’s here to lighten the mood. We continue giggling as Jack aborts hisplay-acting and slips his hands in his pockets, smiling at both of us.

The room is filling up, and when our laughter eases, Elly glances around. “Come on,” she says to me. “There’s a very handsome waiter over there who looks like he needs entertaining.”

A small frown mars Jack’s forehead as he watches my best friend flounce across the room. “I think she likes me,” he announces, nodding to himself.

I snort. “Definitely not.”

“She gave me an erect penis,” he says, as though this confirms it.

“For the spa.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

I smile. Jack’s ego is spectacular; I’d never be able to convince him he wasn’t universally irresistible, even though Elly is walking away from him to chat up someone else.

He blinks as though he needs to clear her from his vision, then rubs a hand over his mouth and shakes his head before looking up at me, his eyes full of apology. “I shouldn’t have sprung the news of the sale on you like that. I’m sorry. Really.”

His words cause pressure in my chest. I don’t want to be angry with him, especially not on his birthday. I give him a smile that’s half-happy, half-sad. “Happy Birthday, big brother. I still love you.”

He blows out a breath and his shoulders sag. He was more tense than I’d realised. Maybe he didn’t expect me to forgive him at all.

“Thanks,” he whispers, holding my gaze for a meaningful second or two before forcing a glass of champagne into my hand. “Try to enjoy yourself, won’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I reply dismissively.

Jack’s friends surround us, eager for his attention, and I push my way through the crowd, leaving him to it.




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