Too Much To Hide || EDITING

c.32

      "You seem positively radiant today, Liz,"

      Portia's delighted observation brings a twinge of colour to my cheeks. Pausing his son's spoon feeding, Adrian looks up at the two of us and flashes me his playful smirk, deepening my flush.

      "Thanks, Portia." I manage with a shy smile. "How were you and James?"

      Portia lets out a hefty chuckle as she throws a dish cloth over her shoulder and approaches me with a steaming mug of tea. 

      "To say he was an angel would be a lie," she shakes her head. "Just as stubborn as his father."

      Both boys turn a head when they're mentioned, driving Portia and I to laugh at their identical reactions.

      We all wrap up with lunch and I'm bidding Adrian a farewell as he gets ready to go to his office. He comes down from his study, bearing a few files in his hand and his usual undone tie hanging off his shoulders.

      "Don't you ever do your tie?" I ask with a chuckle, eyeing him as he approaches.

      "I do it in the car." An irresistible smile crawls onto his face. "Want to do it for me?"

      Shrugging, I step a step forward and flip up his collar. Taking the tie in my hands, I hang it around his neck, just against his erect collar, and begin forming the confusing knots. As I'm doing so, Adrian wears a goofy grin, staring down at me silently.

      Finishing with a flourish, I pat his shoulders for good measure and allow a proud smile to grace my features. 

      He bends down to kiss my cheek. "Thank you."

      The smile doesn't fade as I hold in a school-girl squeal. Masking my joy, I curtly nod my head and wave him off.

      "Go on, you'll be late."

      "I'm the boss, love, I don't get late." He laughs and turns on the ball of his feet to head to the entrance.

      "Careful, you'll start dragging that big head along the floor soon." I joke.

      Adrian is about to turn around and send a retort but something stops him abruptly. I frown at his sudden halt and walk up to see what has caught his attention.

      Calmly walking up the marble steps in matte black stilettos, Cynthia holds her Louis Vuitton bag on her forearm and leads the way for a younger woman, dressed in a professional black and white dress that hugs her figure. Both women have a no-nonsense look to them and are eerily impassive, making me fear the worst.

      "Mom?" Adrian raises an eyebrow.

      "Adrian," Cynthia ends up in front of us and takes her son by the shoulder, kissing both his cheeks. He rigidly returns the gesture, taking her elbows and frowning at her.

      "What are you doing here?"

      Her cold gaze switches to me for a split second before she focuses on Adrian, going all stoic and business-like.

      "We need to talk."

      Adrian and I exchange a bemused look.

      "I have work—"

      "I'm sure your son is more important than your work. And by the looks of things, so is she." 

      I swallow thickly at her foreboding sentence. Behind Cynthia and the woman she has brought along, the black Merc sits on the driveway, waiting to whisk Adrian off to work. After a moment's debate, he waves a hand and the car purrs down the path, getting lost down the road to the underground garage.