Wilderness of Mirrors Read Online Free Page B

“Maybe I misheard and he
files plans
. Would that be any better? You’re not going to
date
him.” She snatched her cell and Tod’s hobo on her way to the door. “Just sleep with him. You need some sex. It makes a girl’s skin glow.”
    “That’s disgusting. Sun makes my skin glow. And the reason I don’t want to go,” Sam lied while corralling her mane into an elasticized mess, “Is because I’m exhausted. But no one’s stopping you. Have fun. Mold someone.”
    Jane paused by the antique bamboo coat rack beside the door and moved to a more neutral subject. “Can I borrow this?” She held up Sam’s grandfather’s tweed hat.
    No. It won’t smell like it’s supposed to.
    But Sam merely nodded, knowing it was Jane’s way of keeping the peace.
Please, God, let her be sober enough to bring it back again.
“Remember, we’ve got to be at Barkley Manor by eight tomorrow. The charity tea’s at two.”
    Jane dropped the hat into her bag and curtseyed. “Aye, ma’am. Oi’ll be there unless Dan’s got me knickers up o’er me head.”
    Sam banged her head against the table, and Jo Malone vanished into the dark night.
Really, I must buy that girl a bottle of Billet Doux next time I’m in Paris.
    A deep sigh rippled through her slinky-bent frame. God, she was depressed. She studied Tamar’s figure through the gap between her crooked elbow and the worktable. He thumped his tail. A lover of early nights and her personal fuzzy blanket to be sure, but the prospect of going to bed with someone who didn’t lick his balls would have been a nice change. And it wasn’t just the sex. She missed talking with someone about stupid everyday things like new sneakers and the smell of laundry detergent. Missed having two toothbrushes in her
Ski Chamonix
mug.
    You do remember Marc misses out on everything, don’t you
?
    The dark sarcastic whisper was enough. She lifted her head and watched Tam roll to his back. Her foot followed his lead, scratching his ribcage. She felt him groan with pleasure. Rolling her neck, she counted slowly. At least one of them was getting what he wanted. What he deserved.
    “One hundred.” She snapped her fingers and quit the stool while Tamar shook and stood in no particular order. A few glossy strands floated down and disappeared into the slate. “Jane’s going to have you made into a rug.”
    He yawned, an imitation of the big bad wolf, and butted his head against her hand.
I suppose I can do the rest early tomorrow.
She eyed the box-laden space. “Keys first. Shoes next.” Drool and all. Then home for dinner.
    Crap.
She groaned, “How’s grilled cheese sound? I don’t think we’ve a single kibble left in the house.”
    Tamar shot her a sidelong look of long-suffering patience and eyed something around the corner.
    It took her a second.
    She’d forgotten about the tin in the office kitchen. Together they traversed the oak floored hallway, old friends without needing to remind one another.
    Light flipped on, Samantha scooped up a bowl and filled it with a sizeable portion of dried brown pellets.
Oh, yum.
    He stared back at her, mind filled with similar thoughts. “Now then, what to add.” She rummaged through the refrigerator for anything with which to bait the bowl. The sneering black muzzle followed her movements – until she found a fresh container of plain yogurt.
    She held it up. “Good?”
    The sneer lessened.
    Triumphant, they pulled back. Within minutes, Samantha was leaning against the stone counter, flipping through her cell’s messages while Tamar minced his way through £10 worth of organic fare.
    Her heart gave a double-whack.
Brad
? He was back, or back in touch. Months had passed since their last exchange. She’d deliberately let him go, knowing their separation would keep him from harm’s way. Knowing she wouldn’t have to worry about AG targeting him.
    What could he want?
    Something pebble-like rolled beneath her bared foot. Her focus drifted to Tamar who had