Conviction(89)

I actually do a double take when I realise that she’s with Tierney, my bitch of a sister in law. We’ve never really hit it off. She’s the kind of woman my mother so desperately wishes for me to be. She doesn’t work. She spends her days lunching, beautifying, playing tennis and riding her horses. She looks down her nose at everyone, including my parents if only they could see it. She’s as boring as f*ck. Her expression doesn’t change when she spots me. Well actually, it can’t. She has so much Botox and filler pumped into her face that it’s probably caused a shortage in Hollywood more than once. I nod my head in her direction but carry on walking. I don’t like her, and I most certainly don’t want to have a conversation with her.

“I was just texting to warn you the ugly sisters were here. How are you, baby chick?” Sophie asks as she stands and gives me a cuddle.

I make sure that my back is turned on the audience that I have at the bar when I sit down and tell Soph, “Pregnant, that’s how I am. Pregnant and there’s every possibility that the baby belongs to Marcus,” I watch Sophie’s shoulders physically slump as I tell her.

She nods her head but remains silent for a few seconds. She goes to pour me a wine from the bottle in the cooler which is sitting on the table, but stops before I get a chance to protest and pours water from the jug sat next to it instead.

There’s an antipasto platter staring up at me and I help myself to an olive. I’ve no idea how pregnant I am, but today, I’ve been starving all day. We had a full English breakfast in a little café before leaving Cornwall this morning. Then we stopped and grabbed fish and chips half way home, sitting and eating them out of the paper in the car. Then Sandra made us a steak, bacon and cheese, with rocket and caramelised onion baguette before I came out tonight. That’s how obsessed I’ve suddenly become with food in the space of one day. I actually remember where, when and what I’ve eaten over the last twenty-four hours and every memory makes my mouth water.

“Does Reed know?” I nod as I dunk a cracker into a beetroot and parmesan dip. “Everything?” I nod again my mouth full of cracker, dip and a chilli stuffed olive.

“What makes you think this baby isn’t his? I didn’t think that you and… Oh no, Neen.” Her hand covers her mouth, her eyes wide as she looks at me.

“Not that night?”

I gulp down some water and nod. “I must’ve been a very bad person in a past life for the way I’ve been f*cked over in this one.”

She ignores that comment, something that she does whenever I’m down on myself.

“Have you always been careful with Reed?” she asks.

“EeeUms,” I tell her through a mouthful of sourdough bread, dipped in warm olive oil and dukkha.

“What?” She screws up her face in disgust as she looks at me. “Will you stop f*cking troughing and talk to me. This is life altering news that’s going on here. These are important facts that we need to clarify before we jump to any conclusions.”

“Three times and food’s important too.”

She sips at her wine, still giving me a look of disgust.

“So, you shagged Reed bareback, three times?”

I nod my head, not wanting to revolt her any more by talking through the bread stick and prosciutto I now have in my mouth.

“Was it good?” she wiggles her eyebrows as she asks. I take another sip of water before answering.

“Bareback or condom, its mind blowing either way,” I divulge. She knows this anyway, we’re girls, we talk. I take another sip from my glass, giving my belly a chance to digest some of what I’ve just shoved down it and now hoping that it actually stays there.

“Have you tried anal yet?”

I spit my water.

“Soph,” I say a little too loudly

“Oh, come on. You’re shagging Conner Reed, I’d be up for anything,” I notice people’s heads turn in our direction at her words and look down at the table.

“For f*ck’s sake, Soph. Sure you don’t wanna say it louder?”

“Oh, hush woman, everyone knows anyway. Your pictures have been in the papers and all the gossip mags. It’s been great for business. I think some people have come in expecting him to be there, washing hair, making tea or some shit.”

I keep watching the pair of trolls at the bar whilst listening to Sophie. They’re both currently on their phones.

“So did you have to fight off the press?” I ask her.

“Not really. The security team Reed sent kept them at bay.”

“Conner sent a security team?”

Why did I not know this?

“Yeah,” she says waving a piece of bread in the air.

“We had two assigned outside every shop, but four here so that they could watch the shop and my flat too.” She pulls her duck face and tilts her head from side to side like she’s debating telling me something.

“What?” I ask her.

“One of them was so good at his job, that I assigned him a special detail.” I can’t help but smile.

“Dare I ask?”

“I put him in sole charge of my orgasms,” she tells me, totally unashamed.

“And how’s that working out?”

She shrugs. “Meeeh, was all right for a week’s play, but something better came up.” Now my interest is piqued.