wobble but Lottie stepped forwards, hooked her arm around Adele’s, and took her weight before anyone had a chance to notice. ‘I feel so guilty. I promised to save you some of that lemon drizzle cake you loved so much and now there are only three pieces left.’ Then she grinned and snuggled closer as though they were the best of pals and intent on a girl huddle. ‘I have kept them hidden in the kitchen for you. If you are ready?’
With one final laugh in the direction of the very relieved gallery owner, Adele clung on to Lottie and chatted merrily about how much she loved London. And cake. And champagne. But somehow Lottie held Adele mostly upright as they very slowly and sedately crossed the gallery and with one push they were through the doors and into the kitchen.
One bar stool and a plastic cake box later, Lottie could finally catch her breath and rub some life back into her arm. Give it five minutes and they would be on their way.
The sound of heavy male footsteps taking the stairs two at a time echoed up and Lottie closed her eyes.
Rob burst into the kitchen, his gaze taking in the scene, eyes flashing, dark and powerful. Accusing and angry. Full of that same fire and mistrust as the last time that they had met.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked, and he jerked his chin higher with every word.
‘Adele needs some air and lemon drizzle cake. I was helping her to get both. Okay?’
The Rob she had met three years ago had been obscenely confident of who he was. Master of the universe. Demanding and expecting everyone to worship his talent and magnificence. And that man was right here in the room all over again.
‘I can take it from here. She’s fine. Just fine.’
But as she nodded Lottie was incapable of dragging her gaze from those stunning eyes.
And the longer she looked, the more she recognised something so startling and surprising that it unnerved her.
Rob might appear to be the most confident and put-together and in-control man that she had ever met, but in those eyes she recognised anxiety and concern.
Something was worrying him. Something she did not know about.
‘Have you organised some transport?’ Lottie whispered, trying to sound casual so that Adele would not be scared.
‘Don’t worry about that,’ Rob snapped. ‘The most important thing is to get her out of here before she makes a fool of herself.’
Lottie smiled down at the lovely woman who was half leaning against the dishwasher and nibbling delicately at the cake, apparently oblivious to their conversation.
‘Why? This is her party. Her work. Surely she is allowed to have fun at the opening night?’
‘Not in front of these people. They are looking for any excuse to pull us down and sell the photographs to the highest bidder. They know me. And they know where to find me. The last thing I need is a scene. Not good at all.’
‘You. They know you.’
Lottie stared at him open-mouthed and then shook her head in disbelief. ‘Oh, I have been so stupid. I actually thought that you were concerned that your mum might embarrass herself on her big night. When all of the time you were more concerned about how this might look to the press pack waiting outside the front entrance. You and your precious image are the only things that matters.’
‘You don’t know what you are talking about,’ he whispered, and she saw something hard and painful in those dark and flashing eyes.
‘Oh, don’t I? You would be surprised. I know a lot more about men who put their so-called appearance above everything else than you think.’
She could feel her neck flushing red but there was nothing she could do to stop it.
How many times had her father used the same expression? The last thing he wanted was a scene. How often had she stood next to him at company functions afraid to speak or even move, because he had given her strict instructions to stay silent and keep in the background? Don’t make a fuss. You are an embarrassment. No one likes a show-off. And never, ever, do anything that would put him in a bad light.
The one time she got drunk after a multimillion-dollar client signed with her and she arrived home in the middle of her parents’ bridge party, happy and loud and laughing, her mother was so disgusted that she asked her to go to her room and stay out of sight in case her guests saw her.
No mention about her happiness. It had all revolved about her father’s carefully stage-managed and totally fake image. Everything her family did was to make sure that the rest of the world never saw a crack in the carefully constructed outside persona.
He had been a tyrant, a bully and a liar. And a con man.
And now Rob was acting in exactly the same way.
She felt so angry with him she could hit him. The egotistical creep. Her fingernails pressed into her palms as she fought the urge to throw open the kitchen door and leave Rob to sort this mess out on his own.
‘This is really good cake. Is there any more?’
Adele!
Guilt and shame shot through Lottie so fast that it blasted away her contempt for Rob and left her with a lovely lady who needed help.
In a click the fog that was clouding Lottie’s brain cleared. It was Adele that mattered here, not Rob.
‘Absolutely,’ Lottie replied. ‘In fact I am on the way to the bakery right now. Would you like a lift? I can drop you off at the hotel later if you like? When you’re feeling a little steadier.’
‘Great idea,’ Adele replied and tried to pick up one of the wine glasses draining in the dishwasher tray. ‘Oh. My glass is empty.’
‘No problem. I have lots of lovely coffee and tea back at the bakery. And then when you get back to the hotel, your son here—’ and at this point she flashed him a narrow-eyed squint ‘—can make you some lovely hot chocolate. How about that?’
Adele staggered to her feet and held out her arm. ‘Lead the way. Cake ahoy.’
* * *
‘I’m coming with you.’
‘No can do. This is a two-woman delivery van. And Adele is quite happy in the passenger seat.’
Rob grunted and waved back to his mother, who was sitting quite sedately in the van with her seat belt already fastened, looking vacantly and very glassy-eyed down the lane behind the gallery.
In the end Lottie had given way and skipped ahead with her bakery crate while Rob had helped his mum negotiate the quite steep staircase to the delivery bay.
‘Then drive to the hotel and I’ll follow in a black cab.’
Lottie took a calming breath and then lifted her chin and leant closer to Rob so that she could talk to him through clenched teeth. ‘And watch Adele fall out of the van onto her face in front of the cameras? Oh, that would be a good idea. Not a chance. Your mother needs somewhere to go for a couple of hours to rest and recover before she heads back to the hotel.’
