A Model Mother

Chapter 22

Hi everyone. Again, apologies for the lateness of this chapter, life just keeps getting in the way of my writing! And thanks for all of your messages and support.

I reckon there are just two or three chapters left for A Model Mother now; its drawing to a close.

As with chapter 21, I’ve dedicated this one to a WP author who writes stories I really enjoy. This time I’ve dedicated it to Ninyatippett, I’m avidly reading her romance “The Mischievious Mrs Maxfield.”  As soon as I started reading it I just couldn't stop. The hero (Brandon) and heroine (Charlotte) are tremendous characters and the romantic tension between them is so well written its just unputdownable – I hope you give it a try.

All the best. Cheamcat

Saturday Evening

The meeting on Sunday was creeping closer and closer and preyed on the minds of both Miles and Rose. He had texted her during the day on Friday.

“Hi; just confirming Sunday; my place at 11? M xx”

Rose responded that she would be there. She had worked like a demon on Friday and Saturday, getting stuff in place for the contract that Serge had given her; she and Maggie had split the tasks between them and then met at lunchtime and the end of the day to confer notes. Rose had pretty much managed to either book or confirm interviews with enough models to not only cover the event but also to have a few back-ups. She had made contact with the PR Company and was working through their requirements.

Working hard had helped her to stop dwelling on that early morning kiss with Miles. It had been hot; the taste, touch and smell of him so comforting too. She remembered coming home to him each evening, waking up every morning with him. And she could choose that life again, he had been clear that the offer was right in front of her, Miles wanted her back, and on her terms too – it was her decision.

Miles too had been working like a donkey, checking that the arrangements he had put in place to cover for Max were working out and following up bits of work that he had been distracted from in the last week. Always at the back of his mind was the looming Sunday meeting with Rose. He was no longer sure how significant the photographs were going to be in her decision as to whether she came back to him but he was still finding it difficult to overcome his nervousness about her seeing them, despite Bill’s reassurances that they were “shockers”.

 To comfort himself he relived over and over, their kiss on Friday morning. She had been so sexy, so warm and passionate, he couldn’t believe now that she felt nothing for him; he desperately wanted to envelop her in his arms all night and into the morning; be there when she woke up and take care of Lloyd together; relaxing and sharing a bottle of wine at the end of the day and curling up on the sofa. He wanted her so much it was really hurting badly; he couldn’t bear the thought of a row on Sunday, or worse.

To try and calm his nerves he had started rehearsing in his mind exactly what he was going to say; he wanted her to grasp exactly what had happened and in what order, try to recreate for her his frame of mind and the games that Max had played. But at the same time he had no intention of trying to let himself off the hook; he took full responsibility for behaving like a complete prat.

Late on Saturday evening, Miles did a quick shop, stocking up on the basics plus some ingredients for  lunch for the next day although he wasn’t certain if either of them would have an appetite. He did a work out and slogged at the weights and machines until he was truly exhausted, had a hot shower and fell into bed.

Rose too came home exhausted and on tenterhooks; she played with and bathed Lloyd and then had a long soak in the bath while listening to the radio. By 9pm she was asleep.