Page 18 of Handle Me

I took a deep breath and listened to him rant. Regardless of how obnoxious he acted, he’d earned the right to vent about the sudden lack of privacy.

“I guess,” I answered truthfully. “Have you talked to Alexander about it?”

He barked a harsh laugh. “I’ll bring it up the next time we have afternoon tea.”

“Yes, laugh at the idea of talking about your issues,” I said flatly. “Because bottling them up is really working out for you.”

“It was,” he said. Bitterness etched his features making him look much older than he was for a moment.

I actually felt for him. None of this could be easy. But being angry and rude wasn’t going to change any of it. Why couldn’t he see that? Why was he so determined to make his brother his enemy? Alexander could be overbearing. I really didn’t know how my sister put up with it, but he seemed to have good intentions. At least from where I stood: on the outside looking in. “Look,” I said, mustering as much force as I could behind my words, “I’m not saying you have to be best friends, but maybe you should ask him to clue you in on any security details.”

Anders shot an annoyed look at me before turning his attention back to the highway. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he drove us into the city proper. His eyes lifted to the mirror and he sighed.

“Still following us?” I asked in a soft voice.

He didn’t answer.

I dug my phone out of my bag and checked to see if Clara had returned my call. My sister had her hands full with a toddler and a baby on the way, so it wasn’t a surprise that she hadn’t called me back. Still, considering I was here doing her a favor, it would be nice. I slid open my contacts list and hit her name. It went straight to voicemail.

“Who are you calling?” Anders asked.

I started to say no one but thought better of it. If I wanted Anders to open up to me, I would have to start opening up to him. “My sister. I wanted to check in with her.”

“She’s probably with my brother.” Anders pulled up to the valet stand in front of Barnaby’s.

I could tell exactly what he thought about that. A man in livery walked to my side of the car and opened the door to help me out. Anders didn’t wait for him to come around. He got out and turned, dropping an elbow on the car’s low roof. “Where do I park this?”

The parking attendant blinked in confusion and looked at me. I shrugged. I didn’t understand cars, and I certainly didn’t understand why Anders treated it like it was his actual baby.

“Sir, I would be happy to—”

“Please point me in the right direction,” Anders cut him off. “You’re not getting behind her wheel.”

The attendant’s eyes goggled as he looked from the car to him to me.

“He means the car,” I explained as I crossed my arms. “Just let him park it, Anders.”

“Nope. Either I park it or I wait out here for you to finish your shopping,” he said.

“We’re shopping for you!” I couldn’t keep the fury out of my voice. Why did he have to make everything so hard all the time?

“I guess you’ll have to help me convince this nice fellow to let me—a professional driver—park my own goddamn car in a garage. Hell, I’ll even tip him.”

That’s what this was about. He wanted me to work my feminine wiles on the older gentleman until he bent the rules.

Except I’d never been very good at charming strangers. Plus, there was an easier way. Taking my wallet out of my purse, I drew out two fifty-pound notes. “Let him park the car and I’ll tip you a hundred quid.”

The hesitation vanished and the attendant pointed down the street. “Turn at the signal. You’ll see a private garage just past. Park it anywhere on the street level.”

“Thanks.” Anders looked to me. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

But I was busy staring at the signal which had to be over a kilometer away. “You aren’t really going to walk all the way back here. Our appointment will nearly be over.”

“I could use the jog,” he said, lifting his mobile phone. “Plus, I have a call to make.”

I didn’t dare ask who he was calling, I only hoped that if he was about to reach out to his brother that he didn’t immediately start cursing him out.

“Fine.” There was no point in fighting. I was starting to understand that Anders was more like a jackass than I’d first realized. If he decided to dig in his heels, we weren’t going anywhere.