Page 27 of Rafferty's Rules
‘No need to ask what you’ve been doing—’
I cut him off. I’ve been playing these games longer than he has. ‘But naked images probably make youcomeover all unnecessary, right? Best to stick with the tame stuff.’
‘Ha! I probably get more practice than you. And, let’s face it, I have better taste.’
‘You reckon?’
‘I don’t have some crazy chick destroying my air conditioning, for a start.’
‘For a start, you don’t have a house,’ I retort.
‘How the fuck do you attract these bunny boilers, anyway? Flashing your cash about? Dazzling them with your tiny... property portfolio?’
‘Yeah because that’s the only way I can get a woman into bed.’ And my property portfolio isn’t bad for someone who only recently got serious about joining the ranks of grown-ups.Roman hasn’t even joined the queue yet.
‘You seem to do all right,’ he says almost begrudgingly, ‘but I still reckon you should be supervised. Byron calls them your pretty crazies because they’re pretty, and pretty crazy.’
‘Byron can piss off. Just because he’s found someone stupid enough to put up with his shit.’
‘Oi, Amber isn’t stupid,’ he answers, defending my brother and his betrothed, clearly annoyed. ‘And if you’d come home before now to meet her, you’d know she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to By.’Yeah, and I’m probably the worst.
‘Yeah, okay,’ I offer in a conciliatory tone. ‘I’ll be meeting her soon, won’t I?’ At their wedding. The occasion that’s currently filling me with dread. ‘Anyway, so I’ve dated a few bad apples.’ Turning away from him, I flip the steaks again. ‘I’m a lot more discerning these days.’
‘These days? The decorator who screwed you over this house was only a couple of months ago.’
I don’t answer, and I try not to acknowledge the problem began when I screwedherall over this house. But as our old grannie used to say,God loves a trier, and God fucking knows I’ve tried to be a better bloke lately.
‘Why didn’t you go home to meet Amber then?’
And speaking of trying, as well as trying to get to know a girl before getting her into bed, I’m also trying to be a better brother. So I stayed away.
Also, Lissa doesn’t count. She might’ve stayed in my bed, but we’re not having sex.
‘Well?’
‘I was busy,’ I answer rote. ‘I didn’t have time.’
‘But you had time to see the decorator. And I suspect you saw a lot of her, at least until she enjoyed a spending spree courtesy of your credit card, then fucked up your furniture order, and then your air con.’
‘I can’t be certain she ruined the air con.’ For a minute, my mind is still on Lissa, the last woman in my bed, and I look over at him with a frown. How am I going to explain her?
‘Didn’t her showroom say there was an issue with the order?’ He’s still talking about Rosa the interior decorator. She was completely mad and had a vindictive streak.
‘It was going to take time anyway. The stuff I ordered was all bespoke.’
‘Be-fucked more like. Didn’t she charge you for the stuff twice when she saw you out with another girl?’
‘I wasn’t out with another girl. I was ordering a coffee.’
‘A coffee you ended up wearing. Good job it was an iced coffee, yeah?’ He’s loving this. I make a mental note not to tell Flynn anything else ever again.
‘Why don’t you fuck off home?’ I suggest, knowing the answer as I move three of the steaks to rack to rest, then splash a little more beer on the hotplate before beginning to scrub it down.
‘What about when she broke into this place while you were sleeping?’
‘She didn’t exactly break in. She had a key.’
‘The office had a key,’ he says, laughing. ‘I bet you nearly carked it when you woke to her standing at the end of your bed.’
