Page 2 of Rhythm Of Redemption
Moments later, Lou’s phone pinged with an incoming message.
Dani: Don’t forget, I’m staying over at Sofia’s tonight.
Me: Have you finished your assignment?
Dani: More or less.
Me: I specifically said you could only stay over if you finished your assignment.
Dani: But Sofia’s already told her dad I can help out.
Me: Help out?
Dani: You never listen. Sofia’s dad owns a restaurant, and she asked me if I can help out because he’s short-staffed.
Dani often stayed over at Sofia’s house on a Friday night, but it was the first she’d heard about her dad owning a restaurant. Perhaps having to work for her money would make her appreciate how hard it was to come by.
Me: Just make sure you wait for Sofia’s dad to take you home. I don’t want you to get a taxi by yourselves.
Dani: Fine.
Me: Did you remember your inhaler? Dani had suffered from allergic asthma since childhood, and although she didn’t need to use her rescue inhaler often, it made Lou feel better knowing she had it with her, especially if she was staying over at someone else’s house.
Dani: Mum. Seriously, stop.
Me: Did you?
Dani: YES!!!!!!
With the beds stripped, floors swept and mopped, and the kitchens and windows cleaned in the recently vacated holiday cottages—or casas rurales, to give them their proper names—it was time to start in on her own chores. Yeah, she was just living the dream.
Lou longed for the day when Casa Bonita was making enough money to enable her to afford some help, but right now, it looked like that day was a long way off, and for now, she’d have to continue juggling her many hats. Thank God, they’d gone with self-catering accommodation instead of their original plan of running a B&B.
She put down the laundry basket and paused halfway up the stairs to catch her breath gathering her dark, unruly locks on top of her head with a quick twist, securing it in a messy bun with an elastic. The humidity hung heavy in the air like a soggy overcoat amid an accidental downpour. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and she stuck out her bottom lip, puffing a cooling breath upwards. Some dream. With the hem of her blue, cotton cami top clasped in her hands, she flapped it around like a sail trying to catch a breeze. The weather app on her phone had predicted an incoming storm, and the sooner it arrived, the better.
Picking up the basket, she dragged her weary body up the remaining steps. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could get ready for her hot date with the deliciously rakish Lord Anthony Bridgerton and the equally rich and creamy dark chocolate heaven she’d hidden in the back of the fridge. Not that she was greedy, she’d be more than happy to share her guilty pleasure with his lordship, as long as it involved her wearing nothing more than a chocolate teddy and him a chocolatey grin. She felt the hot flush creeping up her neck. But why was she embarrassed? It’s not like anyone was there or could read her mind. It had been so long since she’d slept with anyone. There’d been no one since Steve had left, or for a good few months before if she was honest. Maybe that was part of the reason she felt on edge all the time. She just needed to get laid. She almost laughed out loud at the idea. It was ridiculous. Preposterous even. When did she even have time for sex? Besides, frolicking naked with the fictional Lord Anthony was one thing, but the thought of exposing her dimply thighs to a real person was a whole other ball game. Something else that needed to go on her to-do list—lose fifteen pounds.
Lou collected the laundry from her own room and headed down the landing to Dani’s. She hesitated outside the door for a few seconds. Should she go in? Dani wouldn’t be happy, but on the other hand, she’d be equally annoyed when she ran out of clean clothes. She dithered. Either way, she was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door, throwing her eyes to the heavens at the mess. She set down the half-empty basket and assessed the damage from the doorway. The messy bed, the cluttered surfaces, the floor strewn with discarded shoes, lone socks, and empty snack wrappers. The room was a tip.
Ignore the mess. Ignore the mess. Just get the laundry and get out! That was the deal she’d struck with her daughter after their almighty row a few weeks ago when Dani had accused her of snooping in her room and violating her personal space.
Violating her personal space, indeed. If Dani had been better organised and had handed in the permission slip for her school trip on time, then there wouldn’t have been any need for her to have been in her room in the first place. Her daughter hadn’t seen it like that and no amount of denials or explanations from Lou could convince her otherwise.
Instinctively, she reached for the used makeup remover pads and empty wrappers on the dressing table. What are you doing? She dropped them like radioactive waste. Ignore the mess. Ignore the mess.
An upturned glass on the floor beside the bed caught her eye. The sticky pool surrounding it, a magnet for ants and all manner of creepy crawlies. She got down on her knees and scrubbed at the dusty grey goo with a scrunched-up paper tissue she found under the bed. But that just made it worse. That gunge was going nowhere without the aid of boiling water, some heavy-duty detergent, and a lot of elbow grease. Maybe I should just pop downstairs to fetch the mop and bucket. She got to her feet and was almost out the door when she remembered the row. No. She turned around. It just wasn’t worth the aggravation.
Ignoring the mess wasn’t easy, but at least this way she could get the laundry done without inciting another angry, hormonal rant. She dipped to pick up a T-shirt off the floor, exposing Dani’s rescue inhaler beneath it. Why had she lied earlier when she’d said she had it with her? How could she be so irresponsible? It had been a while since Dani’s last attack, but it was always better to have her inhaler with her just in case something triggered her allergic asthma. Dani was as blasé about it as she was about everything else, but Lou could never forget the absolute terror she’d felt seeing her daughter gasping for every breath in the grip of an attack. Her pulse quickened. What if she had an attack and couldn’t breathe? She took a deep, steadying breath and pulled out her mobile. Lord Anthony would have to wait.
Chapter two
Logan slipped behind the steering wheel of his newest toy, a long, contented sigh escaping his lips as he settled into the pliant embrace of the supple leather seat almost akin to a lover’s touch. His latest acquisition, a Ferrari SF90 Spider Assetto Fiorano in grigio scuro was the epitome of automotive sophistication and power, with every detail designed to impress and captivate. And captivated he had been.
With a gentle press of the ignition button, the engine roared to life like a mighty jungle cat, causing the fine hairs on the back of his neck to stand erect. He touched his foot to the accelerator and a deep, throaty growl reverberated in the air, sending waves of exhilaration coursing through his body.
Eager to take his baby for a spin, he fastened his seatbelt and slipped the car into gear before heading out of his drive and onto the main road. He longed to put his foot to the floor and let rip on one of LA’s highways, but for now, he’d have to be content with the winding coastal roads that led from his villa nestled into the mountainside overlooking the sparkling turquoise waters of the Mediterranean Sea.
The warm summer breeze teased and tousled his sun-dappled hair. The fading golden rays of the setting sun illuminated the gold and bronze flecks in his hazel eyes, transforming them into shimmering sunbeams against his tanned, handsome features.