Chapter 7

• "I'll take a cappuccino and a gluten-free brownie, beautiful."
• "Hello, Tom. "How are you doing today?"
• "I'd be better if I didn't have to sit in front of a screen for the next eight hours, but hey ho."
• She smiled and began preparing Tom's coffee.
• "You watch that documentary on Ibiza yet?"
• "No, I haven't had time, Tom."
• "You ought to. I'm sure you'd get the bug, and then we could hit the clubs there next summer...together. It's disgusting; me and you would have a great time."
• She burst out laughing. "Yeah, right."
• "What's the harm?" Why don't you come away with me for a night of fun?"
• "Just 'cause."
• "I understand why. "Don't you think I fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down?"
• She laughed once more. Tom was a kind person, but he wasn't right for her. "You know that's not true so you must be fishing for compliments."
• "Fishing for something, sweetheart." He raised his brows. "A hot chick to have a good time with perhaps."
• "I just don't fancy Ibiza." She placed his coffee on the table. "Heard the stories, seen the stupid tats people come back with."
• "I promise I'd take care of you, no ink." And you'd just have terrific, really fulfilling stories to tell."
• "I'll take a brown sugar, please." Donny came alongside Tom, several inches taller than him and with a scowl over his forehead.
• "Er, sure." Blair gave over a packet. Her heart performed a small flip that she didn't comprehend. Donny had taken exception to Tom's flirtation.
• Tom took a slight step back as he watched Donny. "No need to push in, dude."
• "Just want a sugar." Donny's cheek flexed as he looked unblinkingly at Tom.
• "Sugar is over there." Tom pointed his head towards a condiments section in the corner. "It's not nice cramping another guy's style."
• "Style?" Donny's pupils constricted.
• "Yeah." Tom lowered his chin. "I was chatting to—"
• "My sister, yeah, I noticed." Donny's voice sounded low...almost threatening.
• "Sister?" Tom returned his gaze to Donny after looking at Blair.
• "Yeah, sister, and she told you she doesn't want to go to Ibiza with you, which is just as well because I wouldn't let her." Donny came to a halt. "Not in a million fucking years."
• "You wouldn't let me?" Blair stated, her eyes widening in response to Donny's threatening tone.
• Donny silenced her with his finger on his lips. His steely stare did strange things to her tummy, causing a knot to grow and then tighten.
• And, strangely, she found herself at a loss for words. Donny assumed he could tell her where she could and couldn't go and with whom, partly out of astonishment.
• "Blair is a fun-time girl," says Tom, "she can do what she wants, when she wants, with anyone she wants."
• "Not anymore." Donny snatched the cellophane-wrapped brownie from Tom's grasp. "Here. Mr. Gluten Free, please proceed. And from now on, choose a different location for your morning coffee."
• "Jesus, chill out." Tom shook his head and huffed a little. He swung his wrist at Blair. "See you around."
• "Sure." She cast a glimpse around her left shoulder. Fortunately, Derek had gone into his office with his coffee and porn and hadn't seen her overprotective new brother in action.
• She swallowed and cleared her throat. "Donny, you can't just come in here and…I mean really—"
• "Have a good day, sis." Donny shook his head to the left. "And stand up to that asshole boss, otherwise I'll put him in his place."
• He turned and went out of the café, his long strides making quick work of the small space.
• The four other customers in wait watched him go with varied degrees of laughter and surprise on their faces.
• What the hell happened?
• Donny Talbot had just walked into her life and begun making her feel like a young girl, a little sister. His younger sister?
• He appeared to have, and he wasn't hesitant to admit it.
• Blair's day went downhill from there. A hectic morning, a frantic lunchtime rush, and a few hours of leisure in the afternoon until a renewed coffee desire hit King's Cross.
• Her feet were aching by the time she walked inside her flat, her ears were ringing from the coffee machine's continual clanging, pounding, grinding, and tapping, and her stomach was churning. She didn't have the energy to go out for a drink with Sharon and Cora. So, she texted them to say she'd see them shortly.
• She went looking for food after a coughing fit. The refrigerator had nothing to offer in the way of dinner, but there was a Pot Noodle in the cabinet, chow mein, so she turned on the kettle, undressed, and hopped into a cold shower.
• She dumped boiling water onto the noodles while wearing an old pair of red pajamas decorated in Christmas candy canes, then reclined in front of the TV. Come the weekend, she could dress up, have a few cocktails, and then find a hot fuck to distract her from life.
• Oh no. This weekend, no way. The grandest wedding of the summer was going place, and she was a goddamn bridesmaid for the fourth time. What did they have to say? Never a bride, three times a bridesmaid. Four must be the last nail in the coffin. That suited her. Blair had no intention of marrying. Forever, one man. She'd be bored out of her mind. She'd much rather drown in treacle.
• Knock. Knock.
• Blair smirked. She never had unexpected guests. Who was he?