The Millionaire and the Maid
‘Why did you grow up with your grandmother and great-aunt?’
She’d answer all the questions he wanted if he’d just keep whisking.
‘There was a twenty-year age difference between my father and my mother. When I was five, my mother left. I think she was tired of hanging out with older people. When she left, Grandma and Great-Aunt Edith moved in.’
‘Do you still see your mother?’
‘Occasionally.’ She peered into the bowl. ‘She lives in the UK now. Aren’t they done?’
‘No. Test it.’
He kept hold of the bowl but handed her the whisk. She swirled it through the mixture.
‘See?’ he said. ‘It’s not thick enough yet.’
Right... She glanced at the tray on the table. Well, that was one question answered. She bounced up and measured out confectioners’ sugar and set it on the table within Mac’s easy reach.
‘And your father?’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘We’re not close. He moved out to a bachelor pad when I was six. He’s a geologist. I became a geologist because I thought it might give us something to talk about.’
‘But?’
‘But I don’t like being a geologist—and if he has a problem with that then he can just suck it up.’
Mac stopped whisking to stare at her.
‘Relationships are two-way streets. If he wants a proper relationship with me then he needs to put in an effort too.’
‘You sound kind of well-adjusted on that?’
She simply shrugged.
‘Here—test the mixture now.’
She did.
‘Feel how much stiffer it is? That’s what you’re aiming for.’
Oh, okay. So that explained the cheese soufflé too...
Mac looked ready to leave again. She handed the whisk back to him.
‘My father is what he is. Grandma and Great-Aunt Edith have raised me, loved me and stood by me even when we’ve all been at loggerheads with each other. They’re my family and they’re important to me. I don’t want to think what my childhood would’ve been like if it wasn’t for them.’
‘And that’s why you want to bring their silly feuding over the pearls to an end? And you think a macaron tower will help?’
‘It can’t hurt.’
‘Well, there’s a start.’ He pushed the bowl over to her. ‘Perfectly whisked egg whites.’
He stood.
He couldn’t leave yet! She took the sugar she’d measured out earlier and went to tip the lot into the egg whites.
Mac’s hand on her wrist stopped her. ‘What are you doing?’
He sounded utterly scandalised.
She forced her eyes wide. ‘I’m adding the sugar.’
‘You’re supposed to add it slowly.’
He proceeded to show her exactly how to add it, and how to beat it into the mixture. She might have feigned a bit more stupidity than necessary, but it was worth it to see him work. Surreptitiously she measured out the other ingredients and had them ready whenever he needed them.
She moistened her lips. Keep telling him stories. Don’t give him time to think about what he’s doing.
‘Grandma and Great-Aunt Edith are the reason I want to move back to the city. They’re eighty-five and eighty-three, respectively. I want to spend more time with them.’
He glanced up. ‘So the cinemas, libraries, cafés—they’re just...?’
‘Attractive fringe benefits.’
He continued to stare at her. It took an effort not to fidget.
‘They’re getting on. They’re independent, and in good health at the moment, but it won’t last forever. When the time comes I want to care for them. They spent so much of their lives looking after me and...well, we’re family and it matters.’
Russ’s heart attack had taught her what the important things in life were and it wasn’t a lesson she meant to forget.
Those blue eyes flashed and she swore she almost felt heat searing her skin.
‘Are you trying to make me feel guilty about Russ?’
She blinked. ‘Of course not.’
He pushed the bowl towards her and stood. ‘I think you’ll find your mix is ready.’
‘Don’t go, Mac. I’m not trying to make you feel bad about Russ. I tried that the other day and I’m not one to go back over old ground. I just wanted to make sure you knew how he felt—that while he won’t say anything he’s hurt that you haven’t been to see him. Now that you do know the rest of it is up to you.’
‘There is no “rest of it”, Jo. There’s nothing that can be done.’
‘You could at least tell him why. You could at least acknowledge that you’re letting him down and apologise. I understand you feel responsible for Ethan, but he’s not the only person who needs you.’