CHAPTER 17
“PLEASE, DON’T MAKE me go to the gym this morning. My feet hurt and my head hurts more,” I begged Joe.
Following Daddy’s lead last night, I’d hit the red and got more than a little bit drunk while Mother gave me dirty looks from across the room. Or maybe they were aimed at Joe. I’d been too sozzled to focus properly. Ever the hero, my fake boyfriend had scooped me up at the end of the night and carried me to the taxi while my parents looked on.
“I know your mother’s not impressed, but that young man seems far better than the last one,” Daddy had told me as Mother tutted behind him.
And now Joe passed me a glass of orange juice and a packet of paracetamol and pointed at a stool. “Lucky for you, the slave driver is feeling generous. I’m cooking you breakfast instead.”
“Did I
