In my opinion, Ollie could be a stubborn prick and would never have considered that maybe he’d got this one wrong. He certainly wasn’t going to stop me having Lottie as part of my company. She worked brilliantly with Vics, and her ability to read the room was almost supernatural and great in difficult negotiations. Ollie was just jealous.
He told me he had good reason not to trust her, but she’d been a permanent fixture in Vicky’s life for months. She was her personal assistant in name, but in reality her role was much more involved. Everywhere Vicky went, Lottie wasn’t far behind. Ollie insisted that Vicky was vulnerable and that Lottie was on the make. Apparently, he had evidence to that effect, but Vicky wouldn’t hear a word against Lottie. Ollie was used to getting what he wanted, so he found the whole situation very frustrating. His solution was to be an unrelenting prick to Lottie, hoping to make her go away. But Lottie wasn’t so easy to break. She took a grey rock approach with him: not reacting to any of his insults or barbs, pretending they didn’t affect her.
It was only if you observed her very carefully that you could see the small flinches, often just a slight tightening around her eyes or a brief despondent look when he was in fullprick mode. I’d told him on a few occasions to lay off, but he just maintained that she was a scheming user.
True to form, Lottie acted as if Ollie hadn’t spoken, turning to me and Lucy instead.
“I knew that jumper would suit you,” Lottie said as she hugged Lucy. “You look like a fierce, wool-wearing badass.”
Lucy laughed. “I’m not sure how many badasses wear fleece-lined tights.”
“So, am I allowed to ask if Lucy is your girlfriend?” Vicky asked. She was staring at me now. I heard Lottie sigh and saw Lucy stiffen as she released Lottie from the hug. Immediately, I grabbed Lucy’s hand and pulled her to my side.
“Yes, Vicky,” I said with conviction. “Lucy is my girlfriend.”
“I am?” Lucy squeaked, and I frowned down at her.
“Of course you are.” Then it was like the others didn’t even exist for her anymore. She looked up at me with a soft look. A slow smile spread across her face, her eyes shining with happiness.
“Awesome,” she breathed. No artifice, no game playing, no hiding how absolutely into me she was. I couldn’t help it, I had to kiss her. Lucy tensed in my arms when Ollie cleared his throat, bringing her back to reality.
“Does Mike know about this?” Ollie asked, a hint of accusation in his tone. We all knew the rule: no messing about with little sisters. My throat felt tight as I imagined Mike’s face when I told him.
“Not yet,” I said. “But he will, alright? I’ll sort it.”
Ollie whistled. “He’s going tolose his shit. Please, let me have a front-row seat to that nightmare.”
“Mike’s not my keeper,” Lucy put in. “AndI’lltell him. He’smybrother.”
“I’ll come to your funeral, mate,” Ollie said to me, and Lucy growled in frustration.
“Well then,” Vicky cut in. “At least we’ve established what’s going on.” Lucy tore her gaze from mine to look at Vicky. “I’m sorry, Lucy,” Vicky explained. “But I’m much better with social interactions if all the dynamics are made super clear at the start.”
“Vicky’s not good with grey areas. It’s just that…” Lottie broke off midsentence when Ollie made an annoyed noise at the back of his throat. She slid him a nervous look, then forced a smile. “Shall we sit?”
“I can’t sit here,” Vicky snapped, glancing at the table.
“I know, hun,” Lottie muttered. “We’ll sit in a booth, all right?”
Vicky nodded and her shoulders relaxed. In all my time knowing Vicky, I’d never eaten with her. She always arrived after a meal. I’d asked Ollie about it and he said that it was just “one of her things”. Personally I thought it went deeper than that, but that family had always been secretive around Vicky’s difficulties, so playing down her quirks around food was not unexpected.
Once we were settled in the booth, and despite the frosty atmosphere between Lottie and Ollie, surprisingly the conversation flowed. I’d assumed that adult Lucy would be even more shy than the Lucy I’d known as a child, but it was clear that in the right environment she was anything but shy. In fact, in a small group in this relaxed pub atmosphere, she was very animated. I’d forgotten how naturally curious she was. How many questions she’d ask. How she’d reallylistento your answers, as if what you were telling her was fascinating. She was a daydreamer at work, but it was clear that when it came to other people her concentration could be laser-focused.
We didn’t even get onto the Hyde Park development untiltwo hours had gone by. By then we’d already talked extensively about horses, something Ollie and Vicky shared a passion for, boarding school, what it was like to be a duke. It was actually Lottie who held herself back from the conversation the most, not Lucy.
Lottie, I’d noticed, was very adept at deflecting personal questions. I had no idea where she was from, or who her family were. But somehow Lucy managed to get out of her the fact that she had actually worked for Ollie before Vicky. I was surprised as neither of them hadevermentioned that connection usually.
“Oh, wow,” Lucy said. “I had no idea you worked for the Buckingham Estate before. Did you ever go to Little Buckingham?”
“I only worked at the London house,” Lottie said in a small voice as she shifted on her chair, clearly uncomfortable.
“Less said about that the better,” muttered Ollie into his beer and Lottie’s face reddened as she shrank further into her seat. “And now you’re a personal assistant to one of the leading financial brokers in London. Cleaner to executive. Perfectly logical transition.”
“Lottie’s very good at what she does, Ollie,” Vicky said, frowning at her half-brother. Often Vicky didn’t seem to notice Ollie’s digs at Lottie, as they were too subtle for her literal brain to catch, but this one didn’t seem to go over her head.
“Right,” Ollie drew out the word. That was when Lottie stood up from the booth.
“I think I’d better leave,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact with Ollie and turning to Vicky. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
