I stared in shock, from Sophie, to her snotty sister and back again. I raised my eyebrows, begging her to say something, anything. To backtrack and introduce me properly, tell her sister how happy she is with me, how much I mean to her.
She didn’t say fucking anything, just opened the door and shooed me out like a fucking rodent.
She mouthed sorry before she closed the door in my face.
And I skulked back to the fucking sewer where I belonged.
***
Chapter Fourteen
Sophie
“That’s a turn up for the books,” Alexandra spat. “I thought this was a pile of horseshit, but clearly not.” She waved the piece of paper in my face, but I couldn’t make out any of it. “A complaint letter,” she expanded. “Claiming you have a dog in the property and undesirables living here. This is Canary Wharf, Sophie, not one of your poxy council estates. We can’t have people like that here. How on earth does it look?!”
My chest was still paining, torn into pieces by the hurt in Callum’s eyes. In that one last moment, as I’d closed the door in his face, I hadn’t seen the savage standing there, I’d seen the boy who’d thrown his pens from his shitty mother’s balcony. A hurt, defeated, broken little boy.
Yet still I fucking lied. Still I held onto appearances like they fucking mattered.
“He’s a tenant,” I said.
“Sure he is,” she snapped. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Sophie. The guy looked at you like you were candy on a stick. He seemed pretty comfortable here, too, for a tenant.”
“He’s been around a few times. I’m helping him.”
“Is that what they call it these days? Really, Sophie, you need to recalibrate your tastes and select something more becoming of you.”
“Why are you here?” I stomped in her direction, folding my arms across my chest. “You’ve seen the place, now go. Write it up on your little form and get out of my business.”
“This place is my business, and you are a lousy tenant.” She kicked at the sofa, and my attempt to hide the damage looked pitiful. “That’s his dog, then, is it?”
“Yes.”
“So, who’s dog has trashed our property?”
“It’s not trashed,” I seethed. “It just needs a bit of patching up.”
I flinched as she shoved the door shut, rubbing down the tatty paint on the other side. “Patching up? You are joking? The place is a travesty.”
“It’s hardly a travesty!” I hissed. “It’s got a bit of wear and tear.”
“Maybe this is wear and tear by your poor people housing association standards, but believe me, we set the bar a little higher at Hardings.”
“Sue me, then.”
“Not planning on suing you, Sophie, just evicting you.”
“You can’t be serious. Over some scratches on the back of the door?!”
“Over destruction of property and breach of tenancy conditions. Our terms clearly state no pets, and reading between the lines would have made it damned clear that people like him aren’t welcome here.”
The gall of the woman took me aback. I stared into her spiteful eyes, reaching for the gangly teenager underneath the veneer. “People like him? You’ve got a short memory, Alex. People in glass houses...”
She shifted, uncomfortable. “That was years ago.”
“Yes, it was. I’m sure Daddy would see it that way, too.”
“You wouldn’t!” she scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“So’s this,” I said. “This is totally ridiculous, and you know it. Dad’s trying to prove a point, about me choosing another career path rather than toeing the line like a good little Harding. But you. Why are you here, Alex?”
“It’s my job.”
“Cut the crap,” I seethed. “Miss Self-righteous needs to take a long hard look in the mirror.”
“I was a teenager,” she snarled. “And I was grateful for your help.”
“Grateful for my discretion.”
“That too,” she huffed. “Fucking hell, Sophie, does the guy really mean this much to you? Dad will never go along with it, and you know it.”
My heart pounded. “I want the dog here. You’ll have to swing it.”
“The dog? Are you serious?”
“Deadly,” I snapped. “I’ll repair the damage, just keep quiet, will you? Like I did.”
“I had an abortion not a tenancy breach. There weren’t that many people around to make official complaints about my screw-up.”
“Be creative, then,” I insisted. “Hide it from Dad.”