She stood and waited for him to do the same. When they stepped outside, her spine was rigid beneath his touch, and she hugged herself against the cold night air. Trevor shrugged off his jacket and dropped it over her shoulders.
“Thank you.”
They didn’t speak on the way home. Inside the house, he walked her to the bottom of the steps, and before she could dart off, Trevor grabbed Allie’s arm. “You’re not a whore. Don’t ever refer to yourself that way again. It offends me.”
He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her huddled in his jacket, holding on to the banister.
Chapter 8
Allie walked into the breakfast room the next morning and found Trevor sitting in his usual spot, phone in hand. He glanced up and did a double take.
“What the devil are you wearing, Miss Campbell?”
Allie almost smiled at the look of horror on his face. She stared down at her green polyester vest and black slacks. “My uniform, Mr. Blake.”
When Arnold set a full plate in front of her, she glanced down in confusion. “Are these baked beans?”
“Mr. Blake Senior asked for a fry-up. Very popular back home.”
Allie stared at the toast, hash browns, a tomato, bacon, sausage, a fried egg, and baked beans.
“If you eat all that, you’ll explode,” Trevor said. “And by the way, Arnold, Mr. Blake Senior doesn’t pay the bills around here. I do. So I’ll thank you to listen to my breakfast orders, not my father’s.”
“Of course. When he makes his next request, shall I refer him to you, sir?”
“Just tell him to sod off.”
The butler bowed and left the room, leaving Trevor to glare after him.
“Why so pissy?” Allie asked. “What’s the big deal about your father ordering breakfast?”
“This isn’t a hotel, Miss Campbell, and speaking of which, why are you wearing that hideous uniform?”
Allie took an experimental bite of toast and beans. A tasty combo. “Well, Mr. Blake, my boss doesn’t like it when I show up for work wearing jeans and a T-shirt.”
He twitched a brow. “I’m your boss.”
“Well, now I have two. C’mon, Trevor, I have to give at least a week’s notice, otherwise, I’ll leave everyone in the lurch.”
“You’re here to see to my needs. How can you do that if you’re not actually here?” He bit out the words, his eyes dark with irritation.
“After last night, if you’re still so desperate for sex that you can’t make it through an afternoon, you should look into a good recovery program. This town’s full of ’em.” She patted his hand. “You’re not alone, and admitting you have a problem is the first step.”
“Very amusing, Miss Campbell, but I made my expectations perfectly plain from the beginning. You’re welshing.”
Allie looked up from her plate of fried goodness. “I am not welshing. I have a responsibility to my coworkers. Besides, you’re always busy in the afternoons—buying and selling and ruling over your little domain—far too busy for an afternoon shag.” She ate a bite of tomato, egg, and toast. “This is good.”
Trevor gazed at her plate, his lip curled in disgust. “It’s coronary inducing.” He stroked his smooth jaw with one hand. “Mmm, maybe I should let my father request it. In fact, I think I’ll encourage it.”
Allie laid down her fork. “That’s not funny.”
“What’s not funny?” Mags sashayed into the breakfast room. She wore a royal blue peignoir with matching marabou feathers at the collar and wrists. She looked fabulous, her face perfectly made up, her hair tousled like she’d just rolled out of bed after a very satisfying tryst.
Trevor rose from his seat and held a chair out for his mother. “Father’s demise. I would find it very amusing.”
Arnold walked to the sideboard.
“Just coffee and dry toast, Arnold.” She turned to Trevor. “You have a treasure in that man, darling.”
Arnold set the coffee and toast before Mags as she examined Allie. “Why are you wearing that very ugly clothing, dearest?”
“This is my work uniform.”
Mags’s eyes shifted from Allie to Trevor. “I thought she was your mistress. Isn’t that enough to keep her occupied?”
Trevor tapped on his phone. “One would think so.”
“Apparently you’re doing something wrong, darling, otherwise, she’d be in bed until noon.”
Allie pushed away from the table and stood. “Please quit talking about me like I’m not here. It’s annoying.” Irritated, she strode through the maze of hallways and left the house. As she walked toward the garage, she jerked to a stop.
“Good morning, Miss Campbell,” Simmons said, waiting for her. “Mr. Blake said you have to take the limo.”
Allie rolled her eyes. “Of course he did.”
She had Simmons drive her home first. Letting herself in with a key, she walked into the living room. “Hello,” she called.
“Al?” Her dad stepped out of the kitchen. “What are you doing here? And why are you wearing your uniform?”
Damn, she’d forgotten about being Trevor’s assistant. She was having a hard time keeping track of all the lies. “It’s a part-time thing. I wanted to see Brynn before she went to school. What time did Monica come home last night?”
“She didn’t, and no phone call either.” He sighed and turned back toward the kitchen.
Allie followed. “What are you going to do, Dad? Are you going to let this go on?” She wanted him to take the lead for once. Make a stand. Be a parent.
Leaning his hands on the counter, he sighed. “I wish I knew what the right answer was. What’s your take on it?”
She gazed out the window. She was used to this, making decisions that affected her sisters. But she didn’t like it. She never knew if she was doing the right thing.
It started when her dad worked crazy hours and her mom lay in bed, sick from chemo. Allie would decide where the girls could go, coordinated schedules, and checked their homework. Taking care of her mom on top of it had been exhausting. Some days, the responsibilities were almost too much.
“Maybe you could invite Brad over for dinner or something? Talk to him. If he cares about her—”
“I already suggested that.” Brian pushed off the counter and crossed his arms. “She won’t introduce us. She comes and goes at all hours. She has no consideration.”
Allie nibbled her lip. “You could always give Monica an ultimatum.”
Brian laughed. “Yeah, ’cause that always works so well. If I paint her into a corner, I’m going to lose her.”
Allie had a sinking feeling they’d already lost Monica. What would her mom do in this situation? Allie didn’t have a clue.
Her father remained silent for a few minutes, then nodded. “You’re right. If she can’t follow the rules, she can’t stay.” He stared at the floor, shaking his head. “But I can’t tell her. Will you talk to her?”
Mutely, Allie nodded. Looked like she was going to have to play bad cop. Again.
“I need to get ready for work.” He patted her shoulder as he walked by. “At least you’re doing okay for yourself, Al.”
But Allie wasn’t doing okay. She was floundering. She regretted having to make the hard choices. She had virtually abandoned Brynn. And now she was stuck with Trevor. Her life was a disaster and every time she tried to do the right thing, it got worse.
She couldn’t think about that now. No time to wallow. Focus. First, Monica. Then make breakfast for Brynn, pack her lunch, load of laundry, and clean up.
With a sigh, Allie set down her mug and dug her phone out of her pocket. She left a message for Monica before grabbing a skillet and a couple of eggs. She’d finished slathering butter on the toast when Brynn walked into the room.
“What are you doing here, Al?”