Picture Perfect

Chapter Thirty-One - Tyler

Hi everyone! I'm recovering well from surgery and ready to finish up this delightfully warm and cosy book. I hope everyone had a lovely festive season.

Love, Cam

♡

Chapter Thirty-One

Tyler

"Shit, fuck, balls and cock."

I looked over at Sorcha, mildly impressed. "Thanks, really trying to teach Saskie the best of our language, are we?"

"Sorry," Sorcha cringed a little, looking at Saskie who was, fortunately, worlds away playing a game on my phone. "The band's cancelled. They've all got COVID."

"Oh, fuck," I said, ensuring my role as a hypocrite continued for a few more days. At this point we had attracted the attention of two other patrons of the coffee shop, who were glaring at us. I glared back; I could parent my child however I wanted to, including 'poorly'.

"Yep," Sorcha groaned, and clunked her head onto the table, narrowly missing her slice of carrot cake. "And the photographer for the event was their mate, who also has COVID."

I gently massaged the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. "Everyone's really just straight-up forgotten how to isolate when they're feeling unwell, then."

"They're minimum wage workers outside of these kinds of gigs," Sorcha reminded me. "They can't afford to isolate. Let alone with shitty bosses that get mad at them for calling in sick." She groaned. "Doesn't stop me feeling very stressed right now, like. I've told them I hope they feel better soon. God, what a nightmare."

My phone started to ring, and I was surprised to find it was the gallery calling. I instantly answered it. "Who the fuck is this?"

"Charming," Rowan's voice said.

I relaxed. "Sorry, I thought you were a burglar."

"In what universe would a burglar call you after robbing you?" Rowan asked.

"I'm having a stressful day," I told her grumpily. "Is everything okay? Why are you at the gallery? I thought you weren't coming until later."

Rowan and Adam had been helping us re-do some of the lighting, as we'd found the original fixtures were in awkward places, and tended to cast harsh shadows across the art.

"How far are you away from home?" Rowan asked.

I checked my watch. "I don't know, we'll be back within an hour, I imagine."

"Right," she said anxiously.

I looked at the wall with a growing sense of panic. "What's wrong? Is it the lights?"

"No, no," Rowan hastened to reassure me. "No, the lights are great, we just came over early to finish them. But while we were here, your chairs arrived."

"The furniture arrived?" I asked, suddenly feeling excited. "Oh great, that's something we can check off the list. Thank God, we were worried it was never-"

"Don't get excited," Rowan warned me. "You haven't seen it."

"Why?" I asked, my excitement rapidly disappearing. When she didn't reply, I slowly said, "Rowan, what's wrong with the chairs?"

Sorcha looked up with a look of dread on her face.

"Well, you know how you ordered white?" she asked hesitantly. "To go with the walls?"