Michael Taylor was sure- he was in love with Lydia Saunders, even if she was engaged to someone else. He had been for years and no one else came close. Not until that kiss happened.
Suddenly, Lyanna Saunders- the woman he vowed to hate forever- was...
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"Mum, I know I'm Alcatrazed after what happened in school and while I have no intention of extending my incarceration, can I just say, you look like a bag of nervous shit today," Max tells me between shovelling spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth. Tilting his head sideways, he narrows his eyes and frowns at me, a clear sign that he's worried about me. My son likes to come across as tough but he frets more than a thirteen-year-old should. "Mum, are you ok?"
Placing my mug of coffee on the kitchen counter, I walk over to him and kiss the crown of his head, making him squirm. "Not that it concerns you but today is the day we pitch the remodelling of the new premises to Dad and Charles," I explain, knowing that Max will worry more if I didn't tell him the truth. "I'm just a little worried that the plan might backfire that's all."
I watch as Max's eyes widen but just as he's about to speak, the front door of the flat slams shut and in walk Kit, his emergency set of keys dangling from his pinky finger. With a great big smile, he walks towards where Max and I are and drops into the spare bar stool next to Max, looking at us with expectation in his brown eyes. After a passing moment, Kit takes a sharp intake of breath and announces, "Guess whose company just made its first billions this morning?"
Rolling my eyes, I leave the conversation, not all that bothered that Kit is now considered a billionaire. Max, on the other hand, is delighted by this news, if only because he now wants Kit to arrange for Max and his friends to go on a cruise around the Med on a private yacht, preferably around the time of the Monaco Grand Prix. Kit snorted at the idea, seconds before stealing it for himself. Instigating an argument with his son, I scuttle off to my bedroom so that I can power dress for the day ahead.
After ten minutes of deliberation, I choose a dusty pink satin skirt, an ivory camisole, and a pair of ridiculously high sandals. Picking out a blue wool coat and my trusted black Mulberry, I hurry back to the kitchen with only a few minutes to spare before I need to rush Max out the door and take him to school. I needn't have bothered because as soon as I arrived in the kitchen, I saw a handwritten note on the counter.
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