Craved Mate (Cybermates #6) - Candace Ayers Page 0,3
put you in the Swan Suite. It’s our honeymoon suite, but when she heard that you’re performing at the Richardson-Bennett wedding, she wanted to spoil you. They’re personal friends.”
He led me down a hallway and through a set of swinging doors. “It’s pretty sweet, excuse the pun. There’s a private patio leading out onto the beach, with a jacuzzi.”
My hand flew to my heart. “Your mom is an angel from heaven.”
He snorted. “Demon from hell, maybe, but only on a good day.” Then he looked back at me with wide eyes. “Don’t tell her I said that. It was a joke.”
I patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Secret’s safe with me.”
Jacob showed me around the suite that had a spectacular view of the water.
“Well, have a pleasant stay. Breakfast is served from 6:30 to 11:00 every morning, and you’ll see Marvin shuffling around here and there. He’ll help with anything else you might need.”
Jacob paused at the door, looked over his shoulder, and winked. “Or you could ring me, since he’s like two hundred years old and I’m always available.”
Flirt.
My phone rang right as I finished unpacking my small valise.
“Hi, Ingrid. Yes, I made it safely.”
“Hello, love. Pleased to hear it. I hope you’re enjoying yourself. I’m so sorry your boyfriend is a gnarled pecker. I know as your supportive best friend, I’m not supposed to tell you that, and I do apologize, but in the interest of brutal honesty, he is a gnarly, deformed, gonorrhea-riddled, puss-dripping knob.”
My teeth sunk into my lip to keep from laughing. Ingrid was never subtle about her feelings concerning Adam, or anything else for that matter, and her British accent always seemed to add to her already humorous outlook.
“What did he do this time?”
“Besides glaring at me as though I was the doggy doo-doo he stepped in? Well there was the bandying about of loud comments regarding our band’s ineptitude and our clumsy, amateurish execution. So, basically he belittled everything joyful and worthwhile about our existence.”
“Oh, Ingrid. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault he’s a pecker head, but why are you with him, again?”
I let out a tired sigh. “Don’t start. You know I hate the thought of getting old all alone.”
“Bloody hell, Mel, where do you think I’ll be as you grow old?”
“Probably busy with your future husband and future family?”
“Bollocks. I’ll be right beside you. We’re a team.”
“Where are you, by the way?”
“In the loo. I told Rita I needed to poop.”
This time I couldn’t contain my sharp burst of laughter. “What if they hear you talking?”
“What if they don’t and I’m stuck at this job for the rest of my miserable days? A reality, I might add, which is far more frightening than being elderly and single.” Her heavy exhale shot a staticky rattle through my cell. “I should have told shark-mummy and guppy-boy to sod off and hopped the plane with you.”
That had been our original plan, until Ingrid was unable to get the time off. “Selfishly, I wish you were.”
“Well, there is a silver lining. Arriving the morning of the wedding gets me a seat on a flight next to Price.” Her wistful little sigh was almost sad. “Do you think your brother will ever notice that I grew knockers and an arse?”
Gag. “I hope not.”
“Hey! You’re supposed to be in my corner and want the best for me.”
“I am and I do. Which is why I don’t want you hooking up with Price.”
“I wouldn’t allow it to get messy. I mean, other than in the bedroom—no holds barred there.” The toilet flushed in the background. “I guess it’s back to the grind for me. His royal man-baby and Queen Stick-up-her-bum await their overworked office peon. This job will be the death of me.”
“You’ll die faster of starvation.”
“I’ve got a little meat on my bones.”
“Bye, Ingrid. Love you. Call me later.”
Something about Ingrid’s mix of perpetual pessimism and dry humor always lightened my mood. I felt horrible that she was stuck in a job she hated, and I would never tell her, but another reason I continued to make my relationship with Adam work was for her sake.
As petty and vindictive as he and his mother were, a messy breakup between Adam and me would surely involve Ingrid. They’d use her to retaliate, and I had no wish to see her become a victim of collateral damage.
Our band gigs were sufficient income for me, since I had a decent-sized investment portfolio and a low-key lifestyle. Ingrid, however, lived check to check with