Always Mr. Wrong Read Online Free Page A

at my reflection in the kitchen window, I must admit I
looked hot in my silk red camisole, cropped black and red jacket,
skin-tight black jeans, and the knee length boots that sent Guy
crazy with desire when I wore them. I couldn’t wait until he
unrobed me later tonight.
    “It’s perfect,” said Eleanor. “But seeing you
dressed like that, he’ll want to skip the main course and go
straight for dessert.” I shot her a warning glare. Realising her
mistake she mouthed ‘sorry’.
    Over the last eight weeks I had kept my love
life and my family life separate. The only people that knew about
Guy and me were Eleanor and Jess, and I intended to keep it that
way. My two nights at the gym had proved a great excuse for meeting
Guy. Well, I hardly needed Tums and Bums now. Guy was very aerobic
in the bedroom. Come to think of it, in the bathroom, lounge, and
kitchen and once in his office.
    Twice a week dressed for the gym and a set of
suitable clothes in my sports bag, I would leave the house, Olivia
none the wiser. Next morning I would leave Guy’s apartment and
arrive home in plenty of time before she woke. Alternate weekends
when Phil had Olivia, Guy would come over to me. Needless to say,
there had been a few hairy moments when either my parents or my
brother David turned up unannounced, poor Guy having to hide
upstairs on one occasion. Not quite quick enough, he spent half an
hour in the cupboard under the stairs.
    “Auntie Eleanor said he . You said friends .” My daughter looked at me curiously. For a moment I
wondered who the mother was and who the child was.
    “Did I? Sorry, I didn’t realise.”
    This was precisely why you should never lie
when your seven-years-old daughter has the perception of a
grown-up.
    “Do I know this friend?” Olivia sounded
remarkably like me when she asked if she could sleep over at a
school friend’s house.
    “No, it is someone I knew years ago,” I
answered honestly, feeling happy I’d not told my daughter a
barefaced lie.
    Closing her schoolbook, she stood up from her
chair, a mini version of me, hands on hips and enquired. “Is he
your boyfriend?”
    “Scoot,” I pointed to the kitchen door. “Give
me a kiss, and get ready for bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
    “I don’t mind if he’s your boyfriend. Daddy
and Maria both say you should find someone before it’s too
late.”
    I stood shocked that my ex-husband and his
goddess had been discussing my love life with my daughter. “Good
night, Olivia.”
    She gave one of her exasperating sighs when
she knew the conversation was going no further.
    “I was only saying,” and then strutted out of
the kitchen. “Bring me back some dessert, please,” she shouted as
she thumped up the stairs.
    I turned to my sister, once more engrossed in
her magazine. “Eleanor, has Olivia spoken to you about Phil saying
I should get some significant other?”
    “Not a sausage. The only thing she asked me
was when she was older did I think she would have boobies as big as
Maria Aphrodite. I said she was a Coleman. Coleman women had boobs
like plums, not stonking great watermelons.” She put down the
magazine. “So what’s the problem? You have Guy, so tell Phil.”
    “I’m not ready yet, and to be honest, can you
imagine the laugh Phil would have when I tell him Guy is sixteen
years older than me?”
    Eleanor laughed. “Yes, it would leave the
gates open for a whole host of insults.”
    “Hello, only me and the cow.” David walked
through the kitchen door, balancing a large tray in one hand, with
something humungous underneath a tea towel.
    Eleanor turned around. “So Victoria is
parking the car?”
    “Funny,” he clipped his sister around the
ears.
    Great. Now David had arrived, me dressed up
to the knockers, when he knows I go to the gym on a Monday. It was
one thing being able to deceive my seven-year-old daughter, but a
different ball game deceiving my forty-year-old brother.
    “Clare, Mum said go easy on the garlic