Family Affair by Elle M Thomas
Chapter 7
Declan
I last a total of forty-eight hours avoiding Anita in my club. I finally give in to curiosity and enter the kitchen where she is laughing with another girl who works with her. When she looks at the doorway I occupy, the glorious sound of her laughter stops dead and that slays me. The knowledge that just the sight of me renders her unhappy and incapable of amusement cuts me deep. I have no clue if the other woman knows who or what I am. What I was to Anita, but she certainly knows there’s something. Her speedy exit with just a couple of muttered apologies confirms that. We remain, looking at each other, maybe deciding what to say or do.
“They look good,” I say pointing towards some kind of canapes I have no interest in whatsoever.
“What do you want?” she asks, her directness shocking me, but it’s more than that, she’s cold, detached almost.
Her attitude, whilst understandable on a personal level is pissing me off because the truth is that I am helping her out. Well, her father’s company at least. I ignore my own acknowledgement that I agreed to help partly for Mase and Olivia but mainly to be able to do this, to see her and find out if my regular three ways with Lindy and Laura and countless other nameless encounters are really helping me to get past how it felt with Anita. They’re not. Just the sight of her with her hair pulled up in a ponytail and dressed in baggy jeans and a plain blue t-shirt has got my dick hard and my heart hammering out of my chest which is pissing me off even more than her arsy attitude.
“Look, darling,” I snap, already hating myself for where I am going to take this conversation. “I am already doing you the favour by allowing you to knock up your mediocre prawn vol-au-vents, so just remember your place.”
If looks could kill I would currently be a rotting corpse because her look is murderous with a heavy dose of contempt thrown in for good measure.
Her reply is flat, short and to the point. “You made my place perfectly clear, Declan. On a countertop, against a wall, but never asleep in your bed.”
She looks hurt and ashamed now which makes me sad and humbled. I need to make this right somehow even if all previous attempts to make things right backfired and seemed to only have the opposite effect.
“Anita,” I say, having trampled down the Cupcake I wanted to bestow upon her.
She looks at me thoughtfully and I think possibly optimistically as she speaks, “Dec, just fuck off!”
My brain is still debating whether to laugh or cry at her words as her phone rings. She smiles down at the screen before answering it.
“Hey, babe. I thought you’d still be in bed after last night,” she says with a sexy as fuck giggle, but the meaning of her words cut me deep, too deep.
She’s moved on, like you have, I tell myself but dismiss that thought and do as she asked and fuck off, seething as I go, my mood darkening with every step that takes me further away from her.
Anita
I watch Dec walk away and feel a bitch at the hurt and anger filling his eyes, but then he started it with his remember your place. Arrogant prick!
The voice at the other end of the phone is calling to me and I can’t believe I did that.
“Sorry,” I begin. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, although that’s what I called to ask you. To see how things were going at home and with Dec, but—” Liv’s voice trails off and I assume she has figured just how things are going with Dec with the way I answered the phone to her.
“Home is better. We’ve agreed that my walks of shame need to be no later than daybreak. Either that or I need to take a change of clothes.”
Liv laughs, loudly, slightly disbelievingly I think which is confirmed by her words. “I bet that wasn’t awkward at all. And Dec?”
“It was great until he appeared and opened his mouth.” I think that sums it up.
“I see, and Jack?”
“It’s fun, Liv. Easy, but no more.”
“Okay.” I can hear the cogs turning in her mind.
“Olivia.” I’m attempting to warn her off.
“I still think you and Dec could have something.”
“No,” I say firmly because as much as I want to be with someone who makes me feel like Dec does, it just ends up a bigger mess each time we try.
I laugh when I hear Mase’s voice echoing my own, “No!” He does follow his up with more words though. “Baby, please, just mind your own business,” he says, and I laugh again, louder.
“I can’t,” Liv protests. “She’s my sister.”
The genuine affection and concern she carries in her voice makes me smile at the love and warmth she extends to me.
“Yes, and Dec is my brother so back the fuck off and leave them to it.”
“Alright,” she says, seemingly compliant but I’m not convinced. “Hang on, Anita, this fucking coffee machine is conspiring against me again. Meet me for lunch one day. I’m back to work tomorrow but as Mase has made me the boss I can do any time so just let me know when you can do.”
With our goodbyes exchanged and me giggling at Liv’s constant battle with Mase’s coffee machine, I turn my attention back to the potato cakes with smoked salmon and cream cheese canapes for tonight’s function.
~~~
The next couple of hours fly by and by the time my dad arrives to collect the food I have almost forgotten about my earlier encounter with Dec. Not forgotten as such, but it’s not as fresh in my mind as it was, except I might have just refreshed it. I help to load the van and as my dad heads off to the function room I run back into the club for my bag. Once I have it, I head out to find Dec in the bar with a member of staff. A very buxom blonde member of staff who appears to have his tongue in her mouth.
The horror I feel etched on my face is compounded further when another woman who looks like the first one appears behind them and seems to be nuzzling Dec’s ear. I cough, genuinely shocked by just how big a man whore he is. They all turn to look at me but only Dec looks embarrassed to find me bearing witness to their exchange or whatever the hell it is they’re sharing. Not that I am in a position to judge because I wouldn’t expect to be judged by Dec for Jack.
A small laugh escapes my lips, not because I find this scene funny, but I now realise just how out of my depth I was and always would have been with Dec. I have been stung before by a man with no scruples or moral code. Never again.
“Cupca…Anita,” he corrects himself and suddenly I only feel sad that I am no longer Cupcake. “I thought you’d gone.”
“I am, right now. And Dec, me nor my canapes are mediocre, but this,” I say bitchily with a sneer and a dismissive wave of my finger between the two women who are simply standing there wide-eyed, but seemingly unbothered by me or my presence. I’m unsure if they have even got my inference about them but don’t wait to find out. I simply walk to my car and text Jack because the sooner I flush Declan Harding from my system the better.