Read Conditional Love for Free Online Page B

and shrugged dismissively. ‘Just a girl from work.’
    Odd, he was self-employed. He must have meant from the market generally. Anyway, what did I care? Oh, who was I kidding?
    ‘Well, don’t keep her waiting,’ I said airily, ‘besides, we need to get back to our celebrating.’ I made a show of lifting my glass in a toast, before taking another sip. I was beginning to feel a bit light-headed. Alcohol was already zipping willy-nilly around my bloodstream.
    ‘That’s right.’ Emma nodded, raising her own glass. ‘To Sophie and her new single life of fun, fun, fun!’
    ‘Yay!’ Jess skipped forward to clink our glasses, elbowing Marc out of the way. ‘And to her inheritance! Cheers!’
    ‘Jess!’ hissed Emma.
    The car horn sounded again. This time one long continuous honk.
    ‘On your way,’ said Emma, gesturing towards the door.
    ‘Inheritance?’ Marc deliberately ignored Emma and locked his eyes on me. He ran his tongue over his lips.
    I nodded. Ha, that had sharpened his pencil.
    The red-sleeved one started sounding her car horn to a beat not dissimilar to ‘Nelly the Elephant’.
    Marc growled, took his phone out of his pocket and punched some numbers. The assault on our collective eardrums ceased. He turned away and murmured into the phone. ‘Sorry Prin…’ His eyes flicked to me. ‘Sorry mate, I’ll just be a minute. How about you nip up to the garage and get me a can of Red Bull?’
    In a seamless manoeuvre, he ended the call and pulled me down on the sofa next to him. Emma, steam virtually whistling out of her ears, glared at us all in turn, especially Jess, and squeezed herself next to me on the two-seater sofa.
    We all heard the sound of a revving engine, followed by a screech of tyres and the retreating roar of a sports car.
    May Simon Cowell strike me down for my stupidity, but I couldn’t help it. I had Marc’s undivided attention and that was what mattered. I gave him a condensed and breathy version of the whole Great Aunt Jane situation. An eleven-year-old wannabe actress at stage school couldn’t have given a better performance.
    Marc was captivated, Emma was tutting furiously and Jess was oohing, aahing and sniffing like she did during the royal wedding.
    Marc narrowed his eyes. ‘How much are we talking, savings-wise?’
    I gave a weak shrug. ‘Too soon to say,’ I lied. Not as daft as I look, me.
    ‘And to qualify, I mean – thingy – inherit, all you have to do is agree to meet your dad?’
    ‘ All !’ squawked Emma. ‘All! You’ve no idea what a big deal this is.’
    Hmm, was I detecting a turnaround in Emma’s viewpoint? She wouldn’t want to be on the same side as Marc under any circumstances.
    ‘Absolutely,’ agreed Jess. ‘The repercussions of upsetting the status quo vis-à-vis Sophie’s entire family dynamic are not to be underestimated.’
    What was she on about?
    ‘It’s a no-brainer!’ cried Marc, throwing his hands in the air. ‘She should just meet the man and take the money.’
    Emma twisted her mouth angrily and bit her cheek. She looked a bit shame-faced. So she should. This had been her exact opinion only a few short days ago.
    I stood up with as much dignity as I could muster. Not easy, seeing as I was wedged in snugly between Emma and Marc and the sofa cushions were as supportive as blancmange.
    ‘I am here, you know.’ I tied my dressing gown more tightly. ‘This is my decision to make and mine alone. I am an independent, intelligent woman, perfectly capable of managing on my own.’
    For once in my life, where Marc was concerned, I had the upper hand. It was thrilling. It was a landmark moment in our relationship. It was just a shame it had to come after he had apparently found himself another princess. Nevertheless, I was going to milk it for all it was worth.
    The three of them regarded me with expressions ranging from disappointed to doubtful to proud. I finished with a flourish.
    ‘Marc, please leave now.’
    ‘But my lift’s just