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Page 17 of The Bad Boy Wants Me

  She stares at me as if she can’t believe I mean what I say.

  ‘In fact, I wish I had half of what you have,’ I tell her honestly.

  ‘No you don’t.’

  ‘Actually I do. Do you know that you are luckier than anyone else I know? Everything falls into your lap. Designer clothes and shoes, music classes, expensive holidays. You just have to open your mouth and ask for it and it’s yours. It’s not like that for me. I’ve had to take summer jobs to get the things I want. When I go back I’ll have to take out a student loan just to complete my studies. A debt that I will spend a great deal of my working life paying back.’

  She doesn’t say anything, but I can see she is thinking about what I said.

  ‘When I was young my dad told me a story and it kind of changed the way I thought about things. You want to hear it?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she says quickly.

  ‘It was about this set of twins. One of them was an eternal optimist. No matter how bad the situation he would find a reason to be happy, and the other was the eternal pessimist. He would do the opposite and find something to be sad about no matter how good the situation was.

  ‘So one day their father decided to see if he could change their attitudes. On the boys’ birthday he filled the pessimist’s room with every imaginable toy. He practically bought his son a toy store. Then he filled the optimist’s room with donkey dung. Just a big stinking pile of dung right in the middle of the poor kid’s room. When the boys came home from school the father said, ‘Boys your birthday presents are in your rooms.’

  ‘The pessimist ran into his room and began to berate his father for buying so many toys. He complained and cried about how he would never have enough time to play with all of them. In the other room the optimist began skipping around the dung heap, laughing. ‘Woo hoo,’ he sang happily. ‘There’s a pony around. There’s a pony around.’

  Britney laughs. ‘I’d like to be the pony boy in your story. He’s cute.’

  ‘You could be,’ I tell her softly.

  ‘Thanks for the story. It’s a good one.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ I look at my watch. ‘I have to go. My aunt will be waiting for me. Let’s talk again when I get back on Sunday, OK?’

  ‘OK,’ she says slowly.

  I start to walk to the door.

  ‘Tori,’ she calls. ‘I’m sorry you have to take out a student loan just to finish your studies.’

  I smile at her. ‘It’s OK. Most people have to, Brit. Just be grateful for everything you have.’

  ‘My brother likes you, you know.’

  ‘What? Why?’ Whoa, that had come out like high pitched squeaks. I clear my throat. ‘Er … what makes you say that?’

  ‘Everybody knows you only get pushed into the water by a girl who’s jealous of you, or a guy who has the hots for you.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Do you like my brother?’

  ‘Um … I never really thought about it.’

  ‘Really? Most girls can’t stop thinking about him.’

  ‘Well, he must be very bored of it all then.’ I look at my watch. ‘I should get going.’

  ‘Have a nice time with your aunt.’

  ‘I will. You have a lovely lunch with your dad.’

  ‘Bye.’

  ‘Bye.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tori

  I take the tube to Waterloo and get on the train to Virginia Water station. The train is almost empty and I sit in a carriage with one other person and stare out of the window unseeing. My mind churning with thoughts. Sometimes I catch my reflection smiling like some lovesick fool. I wonder what he must be doing. Probably still in bed. I think of his lips going down my stomach, kisses fluttering like butterflies.

  When the train gets to Staines I call my aunt, and by the time I exit Virginia Water Station she is already waiting at the car park. I fling my knapsack into the boot of the car and get into the passenger seat.

  ‘You all right?’ she asks, smiling at me and turning the key in the ignition.

  I smile back. ‘Yeah. Did you have to wait long?’

  ‘No, I just got here.’

  ‘So where is this antiques fair then?’

  ‘At the Runnymede Hotel. It’s only ten minutes away. Hopefully we’ll find something special for your mom’s birthday.’

  ‘I hope so too,’ I say, and suddenly miss my mom. I take my mobile out and send her a message.

  I love you, mom. <3x

  Her reply is instantaneous.

  Me too. Love you with all my heart, my darling. Call us tomorrow. We’re at grandad’s. Send your aunt my love. <3 <3 <3

  ‘Mom sends her love. She’s at grandad’s,’ I tell my aunt.

  She smiles. ‘I’ll call her tomorrow.’

  Her phone rings and she fits her ear piece and says, ‘Hello.’

  With a sigh I turn to look out of the window.

  Virginia Water is a stockbroker belt and fittingly we are flanked on either side of the tree-lined road by massive mansions. My aunt often says that her family is the poorest in Virginia Water. My uncle bought his property for an unthinkable sum of £220,000 twenty years ago before it became the real estate haven for the City boys. Now her home is worth more than £2.2 million. ‘One day I’ll sell my house and be a millionaire,’ she always jokes.

  Less than ten minutes after we hit the A30, we turn into Runnymede Hotel. I trail after my aunt from table to table looking at brick-a-brac that I would have cheerfully thrown out, but it is apparently still considered of value.

  A chipped porcelain cup that a woman wanted £5.00 for, a dusty doll with a scratched face going for £20.00, yellowing tablecloths, a purple feather boa, but none of it puts my aunt off. She is determined that she will find a gem in that junk, and she is right. We, well she, finally finds a surprisingly pretty Victorian Cameo brooch pin with pearls that I know mom will love. My aunt bargains and gets £7.00 taken off the price. I hand over £30.00 and the vendor wraps it up and puts it into a bag for me.

  Afterwards we have lunch at the hotel, then we head over to her house. My niece, Tabitha, who is eight years old comes running from the garden next door. She is wearing her swimsuit and her hair is in pigtails.

  ‘Come for a swim, Aunt Tori,’ she begs.

  ‘I’m too tired. I didn’t sleep well last night and now that I hav

e had a big lunch I think I’ll take a nap for a couple of hours, but look what I got you.’

  ‘What?’ she asks excitedly.

  She runs off after I give her a packet of gummy bears. I throw myself on the couch and almost immediately fall asleep.

  I wake up to the sound of my aunt’s panicked voice calling me.

  ‘There’s a big black Lamborghini stopping outside the house.’

  I blink sleepily.

  ‘Heaven’s above, a man who looks very much like Cash Hunter is coming out of it.’

  I sit bolt upright. ‘What?’

  My aunt turns away from the window and looks at me, her eyes shining with inquisitiveness. ‘Looks like he is coming up our driveway, Tori.’

  I stare at my aunt with horrified eyes.

  ‘Would you like to freshen up first, or are you OK with him seeing you with drool on your face?’ she asks calmly.

  With a yelp I jump up and dash up the stairs.

  At the top of the stairs I hear my aunt say graciously, ‘Do come in. She’s upstairs. I’ll give her a quick shout.’

  She then pretends to call up the stairs. ‘Tori, you have a visitor.’

  I rush to the bathroom and my aunt is right. I look a right mess. With shaking fingers, I hurriedly repair my hair, splash some cold water on my face and slick on a lick of lip gloss and spray some perfume from a glass bottle. Too late I realize that it is air freshener. Shit. I try to wash it off my skin as best as I can before I go downstairs.

  ‘Hello,’ I greet, with a little awkward wave of my right hand. Cash looks like a living god in my aunt’s sitting room.

  He lets his eyes wander hotly down my body. Damn him. I feel my cheeks begin to flush and my heart rate soar.

  My aunt smiles at me. ‘I’m just about to make some tea. Would both of you like some?’

  ‘That’s really kind, Mrs. Carter, but I was hoping to take Tori out on a picnic.’

  My aunt’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. ‘Oh. Yes, of course. What a splendid idea. Yes, yes, you must take advantage of this fine weather. That’s if Tori is happy with the idea, of course.’

  I feel both eyes turn towards me.

  ‘What have you got in your picnic basket?’ I ask.




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