Elspeth shied away from the "or" and smiled in gratitude at G.G. as he returned with her blood. Aware of the man beside her and the time crunch, Elspeth downed half of it at once, careful not to come away with a blood mustache afterward.
"But you got stabbed," Wyatt pointed out. "How did you get stabbed working a desk job?"
"There are some days when stuff happens and I end up going out on calls. This morning was one of those days," Elspeth said vaguely, and cast a pleading glance G.G.'s way, hoping he'd change the subject. He did. Just not to a subject she liked any better.
"So what are you going to do about your mother?" he asked abruptly.
"Her mother?" Wyatt asked G.G. with interest and then turned to Elspeth. "What about your mother?"
"Nothing. She's just a little overprotective," she said firmly, and scowled at G.G. as she picked up her drink.
"Martine is more than a little overprotective," G.G. told Wyatt as Elspeth drank. Apparently, he hadn't got the silent message behind the scowl, she decided as he went on, "She's a control freak and almost obsessive-compulsive about keeping her daughters near her. They've all led very sheltered lives."
"She's not that bad," Elspeth countered, which was an absolute lie. Martine Argeneau Pimms wasn't almost obsessive-compulsive about keeping her daughters near her, she was full on, certifiably obsessive-compulsive about it.
"Really?" Wyatt asked G.G., apparently believing him over her, which was kind of ironic when she thought about it. He trusted the big tattooed bartender with a Mohawk over a clean-cut woman he believed worked for the police. Go figure.
Maybe he had trust issues with women, Elspeth thought.
"Oh, yeah," G.G. told him. "Martine wouldn't let them out of her sight for a minute as kids. All three girls were home schooled until university. Never let out of the house. Never allowed friends."
"We had our cousins," Elspeth argued stiffly.
"Whom you saw once every couple of years or so," G.G. said dryly.
"How do you know that?" Elspeth asked with surprise.
"Julianna," G.G. said at once and then grinned and added, "Did you think you were the only member of your family to skip uni classes at least once a week and slip away to the Night Club to hang out with other im--club members," he finished, catching his own slip with a grimace.
"Damn," Elspeth breathed. It had never even occurred to her that her sisters might skip classes. It should have, she supposed. Elspeth had made a practice of signing up for an extra class every term. She'd show her mother her schedule once she got it, and then cancel the extra class. Her mother would think she was in university during that time, while she was actually at the Night Club chatting with G.G., or at a movie, or just shopping, taking time for herself. However, when G.G. had asked how she'd managed to slip away from her mother the first time they'd chatted, she'd simply said she was supposed to be in class.
She didn't explain it now, either, but simply set her empty glass on the bar top and glanced to Wyatt as she slid off her stool. "We should go. You have to pick up flowers for Meredith."
"He can go, but you're not going anywhere, Elspeth," G.G. said firmly, and then picking up her empty glass, he added, "You're looking better, but you need at least two more of these before you go anywhere."
"Fine," she snapped a bit irritated at all this bossing about. It was like being with her mother. That thought made her scowl at Wyatt as she said, "I'll have two more. But you should go before Meredith worries."
"I called and explained things before I came in here." He smiled like the cat that caught the canary and said, "I can keep you company while you have your power drinks."
That brought a soft chuckle from G.G. as he moved to the other end of the bar to fetch her another "drink."
Elspeth hesitated, wanting to just walk out and leave, but in the end, she sank back onto her stool. G.G. was right. She was feeling better, but still cramping and achy. Two more of the twenty-ounce glasses should see her right.
"Those power drinks really seem to be working," Wyatt commented now, peering at her face. "You are looking a little better. You have more color in your cheeks. Maybe I should try one of those drinks myself."
Elspeth's eyes widened with alarm, and then she asked abruptly, "What are you doing here? Did you follow me?"
"Yes," he admitted without hesitation and when she gaped at him, Wyatt shrugged and said, "Look, Gran's already been burned once by a tenant who was supposed to be a friend, and she nearly fell for that iTunes scam too. Now there's you who already has a key to her apartment." Scowling, he added, "And then . . ." He paused briefly, several expressions flashing across his face and simply said, "Once I saw the blood on your car seat I was suspicious, and followed you to make sure you weren't up to no good."
Elspeth stared at him. Between the expressions that had crossed his face and the way he'd hesitated, she suspected he was leaving out something. Had he overheard the argument she'd had with her mother in front of the house?
"Elspeth up to no good?" G.G. asked with amusement as he returned to place two tall blue glasses in front of her this time.
"He thinks I'm after his grandmother's money," Elspeth explained quietly as she picked up one of the drinks.
G.G. snorted at the suggestion. "Elspeth's family has money. Loads of it. Besides, like I said, she's led a pretty sheltered life. I think your grandmother's money is safe."
Wyatt considered G.G. briefly and said, "So, a beautiful young creature like Elspeth is really just friends with my very sweet, but very old grandmother because . . . ?"
Elspeth blinked and blushed. Did he really think she was beautiful? Aware that G.G. was grinning at her reaction with amusement, she raised her glass and hid her red face by chugging down the blood he'd just brought her. Chugging was better. Elspeth wasn't especially keen on the taste of blood. She preferred consuming it from the bag where you didn't have to taste it at all.
"I'd imagine she's more comfortable around older people," G.G. said as she drank. "She's spent very little time around young people. Instead, most of her life has been spent around the very old."
Elspeth almost snorted at G.G.'s words. He wasn't kidding. Most everyone in her life was well over two or three hundred years old. Heck, she herself was twice as old as Wyatt's grandmother. In comparison, Merry was a youngster. Setting down the now empty glass, Elspeth slid it toward G.G. and wrapped her hand around the other glass he'd brought her.
"Hmm," Wyatt murmured, and then before she could lift the second glass, asked, "Is that why you rented from her? Because she was older and you were comfortable around her? No other reason?"
Elspeth rolled her eyes at the question. "I didn't know your grandmother was the landlady when I rented the apartment. I didn't know who owned it at all. I found and applied for it while still in England. I've always loved old Victorian houses, and there were pictures of the front of your grandmother's house with the listing on the internet. It . . ." Elspeth grimaced. Not sure why, but unwilling to tell him that it had looked familiar to her, like home for some reason. Instead, she said, "It looked charming and homey."
"She advertised on the internet?" Wyatt asked with surprise.
"Gran doesn't have a computer."
"Meredith uses a Management company to rent the apartments," she explained. "They posted the pictures and a description on a rental website. They're whom I dealt with."
"So you didn't pick my grandmother?" he asked slowly. "That was just a coincidence?"
Elspeth had no idea what he meant by coincidence, but assured him, "I didn't know about Merry owning or living there until the day I arrived when she introduced herself and offered me a plate of cookies as a welcome gift." Glancing to G.G., she added, "Merry makes some killer cookies."
"Yeah, she does," Wyatt said with a faint grin.
"You're making me jealous," G.G. said with a sigh. "Mom used to make great cookies too, but she and Alfred travel so much now . . ." He shrugged, and then commented, "I was wondering why you hadn't bought instead of rented, but if you had to arrange it all from England . . ."
Elspeth nodded. "I would never buy a house or condo without seeing it first. So, I planned to rent for a year or so while I checked out the city and where I might want to live, and then buy later," she said, which was true. But she also hadn't bought because she hadn't been at all sure her escape plan might work. There had always been the chance that her mother might have caught a stray thought of hers, realized what she was doing, and put an end to it.
Fortunately, she hadn't. But now Martine was here, in her apartment, and planning to move to Toronto as well. There was a good possibility that Victoria was right and her mother would try to make her move into whatever house she and father bought here.
Elspeth lowered her glass and bit her lip at the thought, but then recalled how she'd been able to resist her mother's mind control efforts today. Martine had managed to make her stop, briefly, in her apartment, but hadn't been able to make her stay until she'd got close enough to touch her on the stairs, and then she hadn't been able to stop her at all during her second attempt to leave. The pain she'd been suffering had helped her to push past her mother's efforts to take control. At least, Elspeth thought that must be how she'd managed to escape. If it was, she might have to stab herself once a day to make sure she could have a life not controlled by her mother.
Elspeth considered that as she downed the last of the blood. She'd have to keep a knife on her at all times, and maybe stab herself each morning before she left her room. That way, her mother couldn't sink her hooks into her mind and control her life. It didn't sound pleasant, but hopefully she wouldn't have to do it long before her mother gave up and stopped trying to control her.