tell what we’ve done? To see that we’ve crossed the line, left it far behind in the rear-view mirror? Will they think less of me? Still see me as the once mopey teen who’d traipsed after her father and mooned at the eldest Faulkner brother from afar? Will Kit and Drake doubt my capabilities, having known me as a youngster?
‘How is Graham today?’ His eyes are clear of the vulnerability he wore when he told me about Graham’s diagnosis and his split from Sadie, so I mentally cross my fingers that Graham is having a good day.
‘He’s fine, I believe.’
But there’s no time for further discussion because the Faulkner clan arrive en masse—Graham, Reid’s brothers and two women I assume are their partners, the hotel foyer at once full of easy chatter.
I busy myself, closing my laptop and stowing it in my bag, while the family, all casually dressed but still elegant, assemble around Reid. But I can’t hide for long.
‘Blair—how are you?’ Kit recognises me immediately and swoops to kiss my cheek, his arm possessive around a striking, heavily pregnant brunette. ‘Mia, this is an old friend of the family, Blair Cameron—you’ve met her father, James.’
‘Lovely to meet you.’ Mia pushes the hair from her flushed face, glowing in the way only a pregnant woman can.
We’re joined by Graham, and I search his still handsome face for signs of confusion or recognition with a heaviness in my chest. Will he know who I am today? Reid and Kit seem to stiffen in unison.
‘Good, so we’re all here—let’s head into the restaurant.’ Graham smiles at me and clasps my shoulder with a warmth that leaves me floundering.
I glance at Reid and clutch my laptop bag before me, my feet itching to shuffle towards the exit.
Drake, Kit and the others head towards the hotel’s restaurant and Graham places his hand in the centre of my back and encourages me to follow.
My mouth opens and closes without my saying anything. What should I say?
Reid leans close and whispers, ‘Are you free? Care to accompany us for lunch?’
‘I...’ I stare, my eyes hopefully conveying my indecision. Am I being included as Sadie, or Blair, and won’t the rest of the family think my presence odd?
‘Of course she’s coming. She’s going to be joining the family soon,’ says Graham.
So Sadie it is.
It’s a beautiful day, but goose pimples form on my exposed arms as we enter the sun-filled dining room. Reid must sense my hesitation because he winks at me and smiles.
‘Don’t be nervous—if he remembers who you are, he’ll still be delighted you’re here. Come on—it’s lunchtime. We can’t have you working too hard.’ He grins, drawing out my answering smile.
Graham heads to the table and pulls out a seat for Mia. I grip Reid’s hand, stalling. ‘What will Drake and Kit think about me being here?’
He frowns. ‘They won’t care either way. You’re a family friend who’s also working for us.’ He smiles then—not the polite, open smile of acquaintance or friend, but the secret, intimate smile of a lover—and I follow him to the table, reluctantly accepting my fate.
Reid pulls out the seat next to Mia, who smiles my way.
‘When is the baby due?’ I ask.
Mia collapses back in her chair as if she finds the mere effort of thinking about the baby’s arrival in this heat exhausting. But she smiles, accepting the attentions of Kit, who kisses her and fills her water glass. ‘Two weeks. I’m totally over it. So, tell me about your plans for the hotel? I love the old-world charm of the Faulkner, but I can’t wait to see the place modernised.’
On my other side, Reid leans in, joining the conversation. ‘I’ve already vetoed the lime-green paint.’ His hand settles on the back of my chair, the intimate gesture making me freeze—one, in anticipation of his touch, and two, in case anyone else at the table notices. Reid offers me a playful wink, but from the corner of my eye I catch Kit’s startled expression and the wide-eyed look he shares with Mia.
Heat creeps up my neck, my stomach griping with embarrassment so my appetite completely vanishes. Has Reid discussed our sex-only relationship with his brothers? Do they disapprove? I’m younger than Kit. I’m probably younger than Mia. I know we joke, but is it really a problem for him? And does Reid share his brother’s reservations now he knows how foolishly trusting I was in my relationship? What would he do if he found out I was just as naive with my business too?
My body floods with the shame of a thousand stares.
I fake-bristle at Reid’s comment to keep the conversation light and away from questions on the nature of our non-relationship relationship. ‘Lime green, or chartreuse, as it’s properly known, makes an excellent statement colour and can look stunning in a bedroom when teamed with fuchsia and orange.’ I cast Reid a pointed look. ‘But you’re right, it is a more...youthful choice.’
Mia smiles, in no way trying to hide her amusement at Reid’s expense, not that he seems in the least perturbed that we’re mocking him—in fact, he’s grinning. ‘I love chartreuse,’ she says. ‘I’ll have to invite you over when you’re free—we haven’t had time to decorate the nursery yet, not that I’m worried because babies can only see a foot in front of their face for the first few weeks. Perhaps while you’re there, you could look over the entire house—I’d love to knock down a wall or two in the living space to let in more natural light, and Kit has a serious love affair with beige.’ She offers Kit a sickly sweet smile, which he simply grins away, an indulgent look on his face.
I give Mia a nod of encouragement, wondering how much Reid has told his brothers about my designs for the Faulkner. Do his comments on paint colour hide a veiled truth? Does he really hate my designs, and why do I care when I didn’t a few days ago? Unease and doubt build, crushing me until I feel small, an outsider in this room full of people who love and accept each other and have their lives all worked out.
Why am I here? Why did Reid invite me? And why has sex changed everything?
I struggle through the rest of the meal, exhausting my supply of small talk, although the Faulkners make easy companions.
We’re just finishing a dessert when the thing I’ve most been dreading happens.
‘So, Reid,’ asks Graham, ‘are you taking the beautiful Sadie here to the LHA gala next weekend?’
A collective hush falls over the table as everyone realises Graham’s mistake. My stomach twists and I’m frozen, my dessertspoon hovering in the air. My skin crawls and my heart clenches for him, because the damage is done. Graham looks around the table at the expressions of his family, his own face turning dusky and a stricken frown of bewilderment dipping his brows.
Drake recovers first, prompting the conversations around the table to resume. ‘Reid hates the London Hoteliers Association functions, Dad, as well you know.’
Reid shifts beside me, but I pipe up. ‘That meal was delicious, Graham. Thanks so much for inviting me. I...um, I noticed a chessboard in the foyer—would you like to play?’
Graham nods, his face brightening.
