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Grace snickers. “He’s being facetious. Don’t pay attention to that. I wasn’t suggesting he did, thought maybe he got him framed and sent to prison to get him out of the way or something like that. Not something so bloody as murder. Derek’s much more creative. Most times.”
“Most times,” Derek parrots and pops a piece of bacon into his mouth before pointing in the air and pulling the trigger on an imaginary gun.
Alannah and I exchange wide-eyed looks before we both sip our coffees in synchronization.
“Chloe cares what happens to him, so I did things in a way that’ll be more… palatable for her.”
Opening a drawer, Grace pulls cutlery out, and then reaches into another drawer for a stack of cloth napkins. “Hm. Makes sense. Oh! I have fresh chocolate croissants and fruit in my kitchen. I’ll go grab them.” She sets the cutlery and napkins down on the island and rushes out.
“I’m gonna go put some clothes on,” I mutter to Alannah.
“I’ll finish setting the table,” Alannah offers, looking completely fascinated by all of this.
“You message Jeff?” Derek asks her.
“I’ll do that right after I finish the table,” she says, separating napkins and setting them down beside each plate.
Shaking my head at how bizarre this whole exchange is, I go get dressed.
After I’m dressed, I quickly run a brush through my hair before washing my face and getting into the pair of slippers Derek bought me. I hang the housecoat on the back of the door beside his housecoat, a navy blue one.
I’m a combination of flabbergasted and numb. And curious about Grace Steele at the same time.
They’re all at the table. Derek pats the empty chair to his left. He’s made a plate up for me with three perfect-looking pancakes and three slices of bacon.
“Made you another coffee,” he says, dropping a kiss on my temple as I sit.
Alannah is across from me, eyes on me. Grace is across from Derek, eyes on him. A platter of six chocolate drizzled croissants and a bowl of fruit salad sit in the center of the table.
“So, my brother wanted you and found a way to get you in his clutches,” Grace prompts, smearing butter over her pancakes with a knife.
“Basically,” I reply and watch Alannah reach for a chocolate croissant from the platter in the center of the table.
“And he’s holding things over your head?” she asks.
“He was,” I agree. Derek sets a croissant on my plate. “Now… now I’m not sure if there’s a new threat or if he expects me to comply based on everything he’s shown me so far.”
Alannah’s eyes bounce between me and Derek.
His expression gives nothing away.
“You’re not worried about the fiancé now, are you?” Grace asks. “I mean, love doesn’t just vanish overnight, I guess.”
“I’m not particularly happy with my fiancé, but…”
“Ex-fiancé,” Derek corrects, putting the jug of syrup in front of my plate.
“But I don’t know what Derek’s going to hold over my head next to keep me cooperating,” I finish, eyes on Derek’s face.
He forks up some of his pancakes and pops a bite into his mouth.
“What are you going to hold over her head, Derek?” Grace asks casually, sawing into her pancakes.
Derek finishes chewing slowly, looking thoughtful. He keeps chewing, swallows, and wipes his mouth with the napkin. “That’ll be between Chloe and me.”
“Do you really think you can build a real relationship based on threats and bribery?” Grace asks.
“Don’t know, Grace. Never had a relationship before. Eat some food, Chloe. Or I’ll feed you myself.” He winks and flashes me a smile.
