Rouge At Dawn

Chapter Four

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Chapter Four

"And you've been keeping everything in order? The fridge in stock, the house tidy?" she continued speaking frostily over the phone.

I sighed. She sure could be over-dramatic. “And I hope you’ve kept to our agreement, Isabella. I don’t want any problems; Peter is coming home with me in two weeks, and it is very important that you don’t mess this relationship up for me. Understand?”

I tried not to snap back as she called me by my full name. I’d always detested that name, and never understood why Irene refused to call me anything other than ‘Isabella’. It wasn’t even my name, for crying out loud!

My mum and I had been going at this for about twenty minutes now, and to be perfectly honest, it was pissing the hell out of me.

Peter was my mum’s boyfriend; they had met about half a year ago. He was a lawyer, just like my mum. I'd only ever properly spoken to him a few times, mainly whenever I drove to where my mum worked to drop off a couple of things. Peter seemed like a really nice guy, and, from what I'd heard, he was fairly rich, and he was charming and quite good-looking. Exactly my mum's type. She had invited him over for dinner to meet Liam and I upon her arrival back to New York.

To say I was dreading it would be an understatement.

But back to the situation at hand, my mum was one of those people who could literally rant for hours, and not mange to stop insulting you the whole time.

“Oops! I guess I must’ve forgotten! Silly, silly me!” I cried, sarcasm lacing my tone, concentrating back on our current conversation. “I love Liam, and I’m doing everything I can to make him happy while you’re working on this new case. Our maid is back home again, and the house is immaculate as always.”

My mum sighed impatiently over the phone, as if I were boring her already. I wouldn't be surprised if I was; my mum wasn't exactly the most comforting and pleasant person to be around. “I want to give Peter a good impression. I don’t want him thinking we live in a pigsty, Isabe-”

“Mum, I’ve been back home less than a week and you’re already assuming I’m making a mess out of everything.”

“Well it wouldn’t be the first time,” she said coldly, the words grating against my ears.

The colour drained from my face.

Ouch.

Unable to say anything in return, I turned on the spot to watch Layla sluggishly trudge out of the kitchen as the front door bell rang, taking her sweet time as she walked in a snail-like pace, her eyes practically closing shut as she rubbed them tiredly as she moved.

I concentrated back onto the phone conversation. "Things are different now, m-mum," I sniffled over the phone, looking up at the ceiling to stop any tears from forming.

"YOU IDIOT, CONNOR! FORGOT YOUR KEYS AGAIN? YOU DIPSHIT!" I heard Layla yell from the entrance, causing me to roll my eyes. “HOW THE HELL DO YOU EXPECT TO STOP A BURGLAR FROM BREAKING INTO ISLA’S HOUSE NOW, THEN?”

Typical.

"Stop staring through that peephole and open the door, Layla!" Connor answered impatiently, his voice muffled through the door. "I know where I put the spare damn keys, alright! I swear, I left them in my jacket pocket, but seeing as you brought all my laundry to Isla’s house last night to get washed, they're probably in the washing machine right now!"