“Oh, I know. Gutted, Mr. Blake was. Like peas in a pod, they were.”
“Did his parents attend the funeral?”
“Mrs. Mags attended, of course.” Frances stepped into the bathroom. She emerged a minute later with an armful of dirty towels.
Allie cast her eyes around the room, trying to think of what to ask next. “So, Trevor spent a lot of time with his grandpa?”
“Almost every holiday. Not like he had much choice, mind you.”
“What about his parents? Why didn’t he spend holidays with them?”
The older woman stiffened her spine. “I don’t gossip. You’ll have to ask Mr. Blake if you want those kinds of details.”
“I did. You know he’s never going to tell me. At least give me a hint. Or tell me why they got divorced in the first place.”
Frances pursed her lips as though she’d sucked on a lemon and walked toward the door.
“What did Nigel do to Trevor?” Allie’s words were rushed.
Frances took a deep breath and turned around. “I’ll tell you this. There’s a reason why Mr. Blake don’t like seeing his parents none, but it’s his tale to tell. Mrs. Mags expects you downstairs in half an hour. Going shopping for the wedding.” With her head held high, she left the room.
***
Allie sipped her coffee and reached for her phone. She texted Brynn, saying she was sorry for missing breakfast but she would be home after school.
Brynn texted back that she had a club meeting and was going to study for a test with a friend afterward. Allie hoped it was true. Her little sister needed to socialize more. Brynnie seemed far too isolated these days.
Allie still planned to stop by the house, maybe throw together a quick dinner and stick it in the fridge. Her dad wasn’t known for his cooking skills, and Allie hated the thought of them eating sandwiches while she dined on Mrs. Hubert’s four-course meals.
After drinking her coffee, Allie stepped into the shower. As she stood beneath the warm spray of water, lathering her sex-sore body, thoughts of last night came pouring back. Trevor between her legs, Trevor touching her, sucking her, entering her from behind while she held on to the headboard for all she was worth. The last two days made up for the last four sexless years.
She donned a pretty bra and panty set to match her red-and-white polka-dot sundress. She slipped on a pair of kitten-heeled sandals and made her way to the foyer, where Mags waited for her.
“Good morning, darling.” She kissed Allie’s cheek. “The beefcake chauffeur is waiting for us. Let’s go.” She donned enormous sunglasses and headed outside.
Allie trailed after her. Once they’d settled into the back of the limo, Allie avoided glancing at Mags and stared out the tinted window instead. How could she look at the woman when Allie kept thinking about the nasty, amazing sex she’d had with Trevor the night before? Awkward.
“Are you and Trevor having a spat, dear?”
Allie turned her head, her eyes wide. “No.”
“Because he was terribly cross this morning. More so than usual, even.”
Really? Allie would have guessed he’d be in a great mood—very sated and relaxed. Maybe she was the only one who thought the sex had been amazing. Earth shattering. Hotter than Vegas in the middle of August. What if it was just another shag to him?
“What’s Nigel up to this morning?” Allie was desperate to change the subject.
Mags sighed. “He took breakfast in the bedroom. I’m afraid he’s pouting, as the Blake men are prone to do.”
“It’s none of my business, Mags, but why is Trevor so angry at the two of you?” Normally she wouldn’t have asked such a nosy question, but Trevor wouldn’t tell her anything and neither would Frances.
The older woman said nothing for several seconds. Then she sighed. “The truth is, Nigel and I were never very attentive parents. I’m a passionate woman”—she placed her hand on her chest—“and Nigel is, well, let’s just say he has extremely powerful lusts.”
Allie almost winced. “I shouldn’t have asked. It really is none of my business. I don’t need to know the details—”
“When Trevor was young, Nigel and I were too caught up in our stormy relationship to give him the attention he needed.” Mags carried on as if Allie hadn’t spoken. Like mother, like son. “We divorced when Trevor was six. I remarried”—she flicked her wrist—“several times. And Nigel remarried too. Also several times.” Her eyes narrowed briefly.
“Poor little Trevor got lost in the shuffle. I moved to Spain with one of my husbands, then to Australia with the next, to France, and finally to America. I just returned to England a year ago, where I reconnected with Nigel, and well, here we are.”
Allie stared at Mags with an open mouth. “What about Trevor?” Was this why Trevor never spent holidays with his parents—no, screw holidays. How about every day? “Where was he during all this? With Nigel?”
Shifting her legs, Mags twisted the diamond rings on her fingers. “Trevor went to boarding school when he was eight. Nigel and I thought it would offer him some continuity. And of course, he stayed with my father until then and spent holidays there as well.”
That was the grandfather, the one who watched old movies with Trevor. Two peas in a pod. Allie knit her brow. “Hang on, eight years old?”
Mags shrugged. “Boarding schools take children at a very young age. We thought it was for the best.”
For whom? Allie tried to imagine what it would be like to have two completely self-absorbed parents send her away at the age of eight. Her parents had always been loving and caring, not only to her and her sisters, but to each other. Yes, her dad checked out mentally when her mom got sick, but before that, he’d been a good dad. Poor Trevor.
“Why didn’t he stay with you during the holidays, Mags? Or Nigel?”
Mags swallowed. When she removed her sunglasses, her eyes were shiny with tears. As she blinked them back, her long lashes fluttered rapidly. “I realize I’ve been a horrible mother, Allie. I do know that. I feel it every time I’m in the same room with him. I’ve always been too involved in my own life, so has Nigel. That’s why we’re here. We want to set things right with Trevor. We want him to be a part of this wedding so that we can all move forward. A new beginning.”
Allie shook her head and tried to keep the judgment out of her voice, but it was difficult. “I don’t think it works like that.” They had damaged Trevor, abandoned him. How could he just get over that and move on?
The limo stopped in front of Crystals. Simmons opened the door for them, and Mags replaced her glasses before exiting first. As she stood at the entrance, her smile seemed forced. She smoothed her hand down her tight blue dress. “Well, we’ll just have to hope for the best with Trevor, won’t we? I think I’ll get married in red this time. I’m so tired of dreary white.” She nodded at Simmons before strolling through the door.
***
“What about this one, darling?” Mags stepped out of the dressing room wearing a very short, red bandage dress with a plunging neckline.
Allie was speechless. “I hope you’re not getting married in a church. That dress is sinful.”
“I was thinking about having it in Trevor’s garden.” Mags turned around and viewed her backside in the three-way mirror. “Of course, I haven’t told Trevor yet.” She twirled around and faced Allie. “How do I look?”
Allie smiled. “Beautiful.” In fact, Mags looked more sexy and voluptuous than ever. Perfect for a Vegas wedding.
Mags’s hands drifted over her breasts, her flat tummy, and hips, then smoothed their way across her ass. “I don’t like to brag, but I do look hot.” She grinned. “Oh, darling, who am I kidding? I love to brag.”