“And then there was you.” He smiled, his eyes warm. “It’s not sex with you, it’s something so much more.” And with that, he turned back to the bacon.
Leaving her staring at him. So much more? Damn, she really wanted to ask him, really wanted to demand he finish that a bit better. Didn’t want to ask, hell no.
So she frowned at him.
Catching the frown, he chuckled before blowing her a kiss. “You’re the icing on the cake, Izzy.”
“After that effort, you really better be a good cook.”
He winked at her.
~*~
“I don’t believe it!” Standing beside her car, Mikki stared.
“What?” Carrying Arnie, Izzy raised her eyebrows.
“You’re doing the walk of shame! From Jason’s house!”
Trust her friend to guess straight away.
“So?” Izzy asked nonchalantly, like it was no big deal.
It was a huge deal, in fact. For her, at least. Jason? She’d have to take his word on that. His words were pretty persuasive, especially when accompanied by a lot of tongue and roaming hands. Her nipples pebbled at the memory, making her thankful that holding Arnie to her chest hid the evidence.
Mikki followed her up the steps. “You and Jason are serious already?”
“It kind of happened quickly.” Her cheeks flushed. Curse her fair skin. Pink was starting to become her new colour.
She unlocked the door, Mikki following her inside the house.
“Feels unslept in,” Mikki commented.
“Are you done?”
“Are you kidding me? I have enough fodder here to last weeks.” Mikki paused. “How long did he last?”
Oh boy. “Why are you here?”
“Whoa. Touchy.” Mikki studied her nails. “Was Jason touchy?”
“How do you want your arse-kicking? Hard or harder?”
“How hard was -” Her words were muffled by the bathroom door shutting in her face.
Leaving her friend to entertain herself, Izzy showered, luxuriating in the hot water and fragrant soap, finally allowing a dreamy smile to cross her face as she thought back to the previous night, followed by a surprisingly happy and easy breakfast. No awkwardness at all - well, after that first initial entrance. But hey, what was life without a bit of uncertainty?
Wishing she could linger longer and soak away some of the delicious aches, but aware that Mikki was waiting for her, she finished quickly, dried, wrapped the towel around her and walked into the bedroom.
“Want a hot drink?” Mikki yelled from the kitchen.
“Thanks, but no,” she called back. “I’ve already drunk and eaten.”
“How much did you eat?”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what kind of eating Mikki was referring too.
“Did you have sausage for breakfast?” Mikki called out happily.
“You keep that up and I won’t tell you about a night spent in a haunted house.”
Mikki immediately jumped on the subject. Sticking her head around the bedroom door, she demanded, “You saw a ghost?”
“No.” At her friend’s frown she added, “But I might have heard the rattle of chains.”
“You lying cow.” Mikki disappeared from view again. “Hurry up, Aunt Elspeth is waiting for us.”
“For what?” Izzy surveyed herself in the mirror.
Slacks, long-sleeved t-shirt, cardigan. Sufficient.
“We’re taking her to that horror movie, remember?”
The light bulb went on. “Of course I remember.”
“Liar. Jason shagged it right out of your head.”
Returning to the bathroom to do her hair, Izzy grinned.
Life was looking good right now. A slightly eccentric friend, her even more eccentric aunt, and a boyfriend who loved - liked - her for who she was, curves and all. It promised to be a great day.
Aunt Elspeth was a sprightly, thin lady in her fifties. A rich widow, she ignored what everyone else thought and indulged her eccentricities, or at least, Mikki’s family called them eccentricities, Aunt Elspeth called them hobbies. Mikki was right in there with her because her Aunt was fun and they had a lot in common - they also had a lot of differences, but that was part of the fun. Izzy loved them both, and Aunt Elspeth had adopted her like another niece.
Going out to horror movies at the cinema was one of Aunt Elspeth’s passions. As far as she was concerned horror couldn’t be appreciated unless it was on the big screen in large, bloody, nail-gnawing visual.
Sitting in the cinema, having slid halfway down her seat in unconscious shrinking from the horror on the screen, Izzy had to admit Aunt Elspeth was correct. Horror wasn’t horror unless seen on the big screen.
Mikki jumped at one point, sending the popcorn they were all sharing flying into the air to come pattering down around them like rain.
“Well, there goes that,” Aunt Elspeth commented. “Never mind, I brought back-up.” From her big handbag she drew out a bag of lollies she’d unashamedly smuggled into the cinema.
“We’ll just have to pick up the popcorn when the lights go on,” Mikki whispered.
Wasn’t the first time, wouldn’t be the last.
When the movie finished they went to a coffee shop for drinks and cake, another comfortable routine. Movie, coffee, cake and a chat.
“Before I forget.” Picking up the handbag with its seemingly unfathomable depths, Aunt Elspeth fished around inside it and came out with an envelope. “This was in my letterbox. It’s got your name on it, Izzy.”
Taking it, Izzy had a sinking feeling that was only confirmed by the familiar writing on the envelope.
“No idea why it was in my letterbox,” Aunt Elspeth continued. “I live a couple of miles away from you.”
Mikki looked curiously at the envelope.
“Nothing important.” Smiling weakly, Izzy slipped it into her shoulder bag.
“But dear, who is it from?” Aunt Elspeth broke off a large bite of cake with a dainty fork.
“No one important.”
Mikki refrained from pointing out the obvious, but Izzy didn’t miss the look she and her Aunt exchanged.
With the envelope burning a hole in the bag, Izzy pretended outwardly that all was fine, smiling and chatting. Inside, she was in turmoil.
That afternoon when she should have been vacuuming she instead sat on the sofa with the envelope clutched in her hands.
Damn Moira and Jarrod. Damn them. She knew what they were up to. Planting the letters at her friend’s houses was a silent threat that if she didn’t meet them, talk to them, they’d do what she was avoiding, dragging her friends into the unpleasantness. It wouldn’t destroy friendships, her friends didn’t think like Moira and Jarrod, but it would be embarrassing. She was a private person, disliked people knowing her business, and they were playing on that. Plus she’d put them behind her. Now they were in her face.
There was only one thing for it. She had to talk to them and put a stop to it. They’d win that round, but she was determined as hell they wouldn’t win anything else from her. They’d shattered her ideas and expected future several years ago, they weren’t going to destroy what she had now.
Ripping open the envelope, she shook her head as an exact copy of the previous letter came out. They couldn’t even be bothered writing a new letter, just photocopied the previous one.
‘Izzy, please don’t ignore this plea for help. Think of your nieces if no one else. They are part of you, too, and a part of Mum. She wouldn’t want you to be like this. Please, Izzy, we just need some help. Please meet us, let us explain. It’s all we ask. We’re family, don’t turn your back on us again. Your loving sister, Moira.’
Anger boiled up inside her. Again? She’d had every right to turn her back on them the first time. This time would be no different. After all they’d done, all they’d taken, Moira and Jarrod would dare to ask for more?
Grabbing the phone, she dialled the number. When Moira answered Izzy
said tersely, “Whatever you want, the answer is no.”
“Izzy! I’m so glad you called-”
“I want you to leave me alone. I don’t want you calling me or leaving threatening letters in my friend’s letterboxes.”
“Threatening? Oh no, Izzy, it wasn’t a threat. It was the only way to get you to call us,” Moira replied. “I’m so grateful you finally did call us. I’ve missed you so.”
“I’m not interested in what you want, think or feel.”
“You’ve become cold.”
“I wonder how that happened?”
“Come on, Izzy. We’re sisters, that has to mean something.”
“I thought it meant something back then but boy, was I surprised.”
Before Moira could do more than protest, Jarrod came on the line. “Izzy, you can either speak to us face-to-face or we can converse through your friends.”
Izzy’s teeth clenched. “So, you are attempting to threaten me.”
“Just laying down the rules.”
“You’re good at that, aren’t you? What if I call the Police?”
“Police? What are you going to say to them? That you don’t want us contacting you, that you’re happy to leave your nieces in the lurch? That you’re not interested in family?”
“I could get a restraining order.”
He barked out a laugh. “Really? You think this calls for a restraining order?”
“If I have to.”
“Imagine how that will go down with your friends.”
“You know what, Jarrod? I don’t care. It’s not like I have anything to be ashamed of.”
“A restraining order isn’t going to sort out the problem.”
Moira came back on line. “Just meet us, talk to us. That’s all I ask.”
God, this was never going to go away until she faced them down. Gripping the phone tightly, knuckles white, Izzy said coldly, “This is the last time. Ever.”
“I swear.”
“I mean it.”
“Of course, I-”
“Tell me where and when.” Izzy jotted down the details before hanging up abruptly.
Screwing up Moira’s letter, she threw it onto the floor. Immediately Arnie appeared out of nowhere to bounce on it in delight, grappling the ball of paper and kicking it with his hind feet.
“Feel free,” Izzy said dispiritedly.
Sitting with her head in her hands, she drew in a deep breath. Family. Some people were lucky. She’d thought she was, too, until their true colours had shown. Believing she’d left them behind, it turned out she was mistaken.
But this time they wouldn’t win. Whatever they wanted she wasn’t prepared to give. They’d taken enough already.
Locking the house, she went back outside. The drive to the unwelcome destination was surprisingly short. A duplex, definitely not in an area that would meet Jarrod’s expectations. The man had expensive tastes which Moira had quickly picked up.
As if on cue two girls came dancing down the pathway squealing, “Aunty Izzy! Aunty Izzy!”
It should have warmed her, instead it made her go cold. The girls were not supposed to be a part of this meeting. As they clutched onto her, hugging and proclaiming their excitement at seeing her, she looked at the doorway to see Moira and Jarrod standing there, all smiles and nodding like they were so glad to see her.
Her cheek pressed to Izzy’s arm, Susie looked up at her. “You’re my favourite Aunty!”
Tracey danced on her toes. “Mum said you’re going to make everything better!”
Oh God. What had Moira told her daughters?
“Thank you so much, Aunty Izzy.” Susie squeezed her. “I love you!”
Coming down the path, Jarrod’s arm around her shoulders, Moira smiled. “Now, girls, let your Aunty breath.”
It made Izzy sick. She knew this for what it was, could see it all in one cynical glance.
The girls hardly knew her because Moira and Jarrod had rarely brought them around to visit. The few times they had the little old house hadn’t been good enough for the girls, the smell of their grandmother’s illness making them sick they proclaimed, so Moira hadn’t bothered to bring them to visit anymore. They hadn’t even come to the funeral. Now they were fawning all over her, no doubt prepped by their mother.
Children or not, their fault or not, Izzy wasn’t having it. Carefully but firmly, she disentangled herself from their arms. “Nice to see you both, too. As for helping, I’m here to meet with your parents.”
“Oh, the girls have missed you so.” Moira’s eyes widened. “Aren’t you happy to see them?”
Almost as if on cue again, Susie and Tracey moved to her side where Moira could gather them close to her. All four of them looked at Izzy like she’d just broken the girls’ favourite toys.
Refusing to be drawn into the web they were trying to weave, Izzy looked at Jarrod. “Are we talking about everything in front of the girls? Because I’ll do it.”
He went from benevolent father to bitter man in a flash. “No need to be nasty, Izzy.”
“I’ve things to do, places to be, people to see, and you two weren’t on that list to start with.” She met his gaze steadily even while her heart thumped uncomfortably. Confrontations were not her forte. “Now, what do you want?”
Moira’s eyes hardened. “Girls, go inside.” At their protests, she snapped, “Now!”
Sullenly they obeyed, their eyes, which had been so happy and welcoming, now angry and belligerent as they cast Izzy one last scornful glance before walking back into the duplex.
“You were hard on them,” Moira made one last attempt. “They’re only children.”
“You tried to use them to manipulate me. It’s not going to happen.” Izzy folded her arms. “What do you want?”
“Not out here.” Turning, Jarrod stalked into the duplex.
“Come on.” Moira smiled, still trying to play loving big sister.
Definitely not wanting to, Izzy nevertheless followed her inside.
The duplex was small, the furniture shabby, not the place she’d expect Moira and Jarrod to be living in. No wonder the girls were pissed, this would not meet their expectations or demands, and would shame them in the eyes of their upper-crust friends.
She couldn’t help it. “I like your home.”
Moira’s jaw tightened. “We’re only renting it while here to see you.”
The lounge room was tiny, a small room combining the kitchen, dining room and lounge. Jarrod was pouring himself something alcoholic from a bottle. No fancy decanter, Izzy noted, no fancy snifters. Instead he used a normal glass, filling it right up to the brim.
He gestured to the sofa. “Take a seat.”
Izzy chose an armchair instead, perching on the edge of it, keeping her bag on her shoulder.
“Make yourself comfortable.” Moira draped herself on the sofa, looking decidedly out of place in the shabby surroundings in her expensive pantsuit.
“No need. I’m not staying long.”
Jarrod swallowed a large mouthful of what smelled like brandy, bared his teeth at the burn, and then stood with one hand in his pocket, legs in expensive slacks braced apart. Positioning himself so that he could look down on both women.
Intimidation tactics, making her look up.
Izzy sighed. “You look ridiculous. Stop posturing and sit down, Jarrod.”
His nostrils flared but at a warning glance from Moira, he dropped down on the sofa beside her.
“Now, Izzy,” her sister began. “We need to discuss something rather delicate with you.”
Izzy didn’t reply.
“We’ve kind of fallen on hard times. Jarrod’s company…” Moira paused.
“Went broke,” he finished.
They both waited.
If it was for Izzy to say how sorry she was, they could wait until the cows came home. She just nodded.
Jarrod looked away in disgust. “Like you care.”
He was right. She didn’t give a rat’s arse
and she wasn’t going to pretend.
“We were in a lot of debt, you know, big house, cars.” Moira gave a tinkling little laugh, managing to make it sad as well. “Credit cards. The girls’ schooling at that prestigious school. Only the best of education, you understand.”
Izzy could imagine. But now she was getting an idea what they wanted, and the banked anger was starting to burn.
“Anyway, we couldn’t afford everything. Oh, Izzy.” Moira’s eyes filled with tears. “We lost everything. The house, the cars, the boat. We have nothing. Nothing.”
“Many people have faced the same situation,” Izzy replied. “I could talk to the manager of some nearby supermarkets, see if they have a job going for you.”
Jarrod and Moira's reaction was exactly as she’d expected. Jarrod’s face darkened even as Moira’s nose wrinkled.
“Work for shit money?” He scowled. “After running my own company? Are you kidding me?”
“It’d be more money than you have now,” Izzy pointed out.
“You might like crawling around the bottom of the pond in the sludge-“ he began, only to be interrupted quickly by Moira.
“Izzy, we wouldn’t come to you for help unless we really needed it.”
“Considering I crawl around at the bottom of the pond in the sludge and earn shit money, I hardly see how I can be of help.”
“You must have Mum’s money still.”
Izzy stilled. Jesus, she was right. She’d suspected what they were after and here it was, out in the open.
“What,” she said coldly, clasping her hands together to stop them from shaking with fury, “happened to the money you got?”
“It’s all gone along with the company.”
Izzy stood up. “You forced me into selling Mum’s home even though she willed it to me because you were so well-off, you left me homeless, you took half the money and lost it, and now you think you can come here and ask me for more?”
“Do you still have it?” Jarrod asked bluntly. “You don’t have kids, so unless you pissed it up the wall you have it stashed in a bank somewhere just wasting away.”
Izzy looked at them both. Her sister and brother-in-law, both expecting her to just hand over everything she had. Indignation welled, fury and sadness combining to knot uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach.
Promises Page 18
