Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Michael wasn’t joking about the Christmas spirit. Clearly, we have arrived in the middle of the Threesome’s interrupted festivities.
The tiles of the long, wide hallway, running right through the house, are heaped with stacks of holly, ivy and mistletoe. A fir tree,
all of ten feet high, its branches tied with string, rests by one wall alongside bricks and a bucket of sand. Another one is already
standing at the end of the hallway, framing the staircase and waiting to be decorated.
As we enter the lounge, James, looking rakish in an eyepatch, stands on a small set of steps, trailing fairy-lights over the star at
the top of yet another tree. “Kirstie! Ryan! Good to see you. We’ll be right with you.”
He circles the star with the lights and passes them down to the waiting Richard who, on the other side of the tree, loops them
once more through the branches.
On a side-table are all the signs of Christmas ‘in action’. Boxes overflow with tinsel and more lights. Glossy magazines are
stacked beside another box filled with brightly coloured ornaments. The sideboard is stacked with bottles, chocolates and
candied fruit, and Congratulations On Your New Baby cards. A large pink and beige rabbit flops enormous ears over a Welcome
Cara! tag.
“We came to give our Congratulations,” I say, nodding towards the display of cards. “It looks like we weren’t the first.”
“And to wish you all a Merry Christmas,” adds Ryan.
James beams. “And both are very welcome. Just give us a moment. We’re all but done here.”
Richard passes the loop of lights back around the tree. “Indeed, they are... That’s the last of this string, James.”
James grunts, leaning back, surveying his handiwork then, adjusting the star, “Is that on straight?”
“Yes, it is,” says Ryan, accepting Richard’s outstretched hand as he disentangles himself from behind the tree. “Merry
Christmas.”
“You too, Ryan.” Richard takes me at the shoulders and kisses my cheek. “Happy Christmas, Kirstie. Elizabeth and Charlotte
have both been asking if you had been in touch. They’re looking forward to seeing you.” My balloon, bobbing on its string,
bounces against his face. He chuckles, batting it away. “And I imagine one more balloon will find a home.”
I stand back, looking square into his face. “How is Beth?”

A smile folds up into his eyes. “Elizabeth is fine. And so’s Adam, despite his attempt at an early arrival. Right now, she’s
spending most of her time with Charlotte, cooing over Cara. And Mitch keeps an eye on both of them.”
Ryan stands over the fire, rubbing his hands together, then spreads his palms, bathing them in the heat. “It’s good to be with
friends when you need some support.”
“So it is,” says James. Charlotte’s tall, dark dom descends the ladder, moving carefully, as though he is a little stiff. “I’ll set
Charlotte and Mitch loose with the rest of the decorations, now.” Then he eyes the still-shivering Ryan up and down. “Hot drink?
Coffee? Chocolate? Mulled wine?”
Ryan blows air. “Mulled wine sounds a great idea.”
“Coming right up.” James stoops, placing a poker in the embers at the base of the burning logs. “Sit yourselves down. Make
yourselves at home. I’ll be back in a minute.”
From out in the hall comes the babble of voices, then the door swings open. Charlotte appears, hugging a blanket-wrapped
bundle. Then Mitch, followed by the hugely pregnant Beth with Michael supporting her. There is something about the way he
touches her... one hand at the elbow, another at the small of her back...
What’s happening there?
Then I see Richard’s grey-eyed gaze on me. I tilt my head, just enough to ‘ask without asking’.
He smiles and nods slightly.
So... A Fivesome now...
Quite a family...
Michael breaks from Beth to help Charlotte, easing the ‘bundle’ from her arms as, moving slowly and with care, she takes her
seat on the couch.
I watch her, trying not to be obvious about it, wanting to get a measure of how she really is. Usually Charlotte vibrates with
energy. But just now, there’s a pallid edge to her colouring and she moves as if tired. Close up, her eyes are shadowed.
What did they do to her?
Beyond her, Michael is watching me, watching her, his face impassive as he passes the bundle back to his wife.

She’s safe now...
Christmas...
Friends...
Seating myself beside her, I inject as much enthusiasm as I know how into my voice, “Is this Cara then? Can I see her?”
Charlotte beams...
The chance to show off...
And, her face lighting up, quite suddenly, she looks much more herself, her green eyes brilliant with enthusiasm. “Course you
can.” She flips back a corner of the blanket to reveal the tiny few-days-old Cara.
Transfixed on her baby, “She’s so beautiful...” she murmurs. “I still can’t believe she’s real.” Her face rises to mine. “Don’t you
think she’s beautiful?”
I regard Charlotte’s baby daughter. Only a few days old, red-faced and with a thin swirl of dark hair, her dark eyes are vague and
she blows small bubbles from her mouth.
“If I’m truthful, no, I don’t think she’s beautiful...” Charlotte’s jaw falls slack... Then looking around, I realise everyone is staring at
me.
Oh, crap...
“... but I do think she’s completely adorable...” I keep talking, trying to rescue myself from my faux pas... “... Like a puppy that
you know is one day going to be all silky fur and sleek muscles. But when they’re just born, they all look like a furry sausage with
a leg at each corner.”
Richard bursts out laughing. “But people-puppies are never as cute as the real thing? Is that it, Kirstie?”
“Um...” I mumble. “Something like that.”
My embarrassment is interrupted by James returning, carrying a huge tray. He sets it down on the coffee table. “Help yourselves,
folks.”

“Shall I be Mother?” Richard shoos off Scruffy, resting a hopeful snout on the edge of the table, then takes a knife to what looks
like a large panettone loaf, snowy with powdered sugar. Examining a slice, he takes a sniff. “Smells good.”
James flashes him a smile. “Always one of my favourite Christmas treats when I was a boy.” Then, taking the poker from the
ashes, he plunges it into a jug.
Steam hisses and deep red bubbles froth up, carrying with them the fragrance of cinnamon, cloves and oranges. James sloshes
a measure into a mug, passing it to Ryan, then another to me. “Plenty more where that came from,” he says. “Help yourselves.”
Ryan inhales, gulps, then clicks his tongue. “I’d better stick with just the one. I’ll be driving in a while.”
“You’d be welcome to stay over if you’d like to.” James aims a finger at the darkening windows. “It’s not as though there’s much
daylight left.”
Ryan exchanges a look with me then, “Thanks, James, but we don’t have a change of clothes or anything. And I think Kirstie will
want to be at home.”
James glances at me, his forehead furrowing. “Of course...” His gaze lingers. “Is... something wrong?”
“No, of course not.” But Ryan speaks quickly, and the furrows deepen.
My blush is rising again, and I retreat from the conversation, turning back to Charlotte. “Sorry if I sounded rude before...”
But her answering smile is sunny. “Oh, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t they always say every mother thinks her own baby
is the most beautiful thing in the world?”
But Richard interrupts us. “Kirstie, you look a little tired. Are you quite well? I know you’ve been out of hospital for a while now
but...”
His question is loaded and we both know it. “I'm fine, Mr Haswell.”
He sniffs and rubs his nose. “We’re not in work, Kirstie. It’s Richard.”
“Richard. I'm fine, really. But you're right, I am a bit tired. Ryan and I have been out and about quite a lot recently...”
Michael breaks in. “Kirstie, when you said you were passing by... We’re half-way up a mountain. The only place you would pass
by to would be a ski slope. You don’t have to make up excuses, you know. You’re welcome to drop in any time you want to.”

“Oh, I wasn’t just being polite.” I’m floundering. “We really were in the area.”
Should I have said that?
Michael regards me, sucking in his cheeks. I look to Ryan, but he just smiles and flashes his eyebrows.
Here we go...
“The fact is,” I say, “... Ryan and I... “We were looking at a property together. It’s not too far away. An old farm...”
All heads swivel my way...
“... We’re... we’re looking to buy a place. Ryan and I are moving in together.”
“Yay!” Michael holds out his arms. “Congratulations!”
Richard pumps the air with a fist. James looks utterly delighted, as do Charlotte, Mitch and Beth.
James stands, heading for the door. “Mulled wine be damned. This deserves champagne.”
“So...” Richard props his face against his fist, keen interest writ large. “...what kind of place are you looking for?”
Spot the property developer...
Ryan blows air, shuffling his feet. “So far, the kind we either can't afford or can't find. We’d like somewhere with plenty of room for
everything. Thinking long-term that is. Kirstie’s apartment is small. And mine was only ever supposed to be temporary...” His
eyes slide my way... “.... while we were getting to know each other. So, we’re looking for a minimum of space for two, an office
for me and room outdoors for Kirstie's dogs.”
Michael, leaning forward onto his knees, alternates between scratching Scruffy’s ear, and feeding him bits of fruit bread. “How do
you manage at the moment? In your apartment with four dogs?”
“I don't,” I say. “I rent a small plot behind the building. I have kennels there for my Gang. And a run so they can get outside while
I’m at work. But I'd much rather be able to keep them the way you did when you were looking after them for me. When I saw how
happy they were, living here... All that outside space... They could just run in and out whenever they wanted. I’d like to do that
for them all the time.”

Ryan pipes up. “We'll never afford what we want if we try to buy it outright or in good condition. So, we're looking for something
we could renovate. A project. Perhaps an old farmhouse or a run-down restaurant, like you did. Maybe even one of the old
warehouses down by the canal.”
“That area’s about to be demolished,” says Richard. “I wouldn't aim down there if I were you.”
Ryan arches brows. “It is?”
“It is.” Richard takes another thin slice of bread, offering it first to Beth. “After recent events, James and I have adjusted the work
schedules. We’ve moved that part of the City project right to the head of the queue.”
“Burning out the rat holes...” says James... “...Ousting the rats.” His dark eyes are almost black. “We’ll get rid of the Finchbys of
the world. At least from our part of it.”
“Speaking of Finchby,” says Ryan. “What’s happened to him? Where is he?” He looks between the men and falters.
James speaks slowly. “You needn’t worry. Finchby won’t be troubling anyone anymore. But I would prefer that you don’t ask how
I know that.”
A short pause... A silence...
“Ah...” Ryan’s head swings around the room. “Um, where is Charlotte’s father? Is Klempner still with you?”
“He comes and goes.” James speaks briskly. “Frankly, I prefer not to know exactly what he’s doing.”
“James...” I tap at my eye. Nod to his. “How are you? Not just the eye. I can see you’re not moving properly.”
James masks over. “I’m fine.”
The silence stretches out, growing uncomfortable. Then I become aware that my billionaire friend and employer is staring out of
the window.
“Richard?”
He swings to me, then Ryan, looking thoughtful. “This project you would like to buy... How would you feel about a watermill?
Very dilapidated. In need of complete refurbishment. And I do mean complete. But where it is... the setting... is to die for.”

Ryan lays a hand over mine. We don’t need to exchange words. “A watermill?” he says. “It sounds marvellous. But where? If
there was something like that on the market, I’m sure I would have spotted it by now.”
Richard sucks in a smile, shoving hands in his pockets and pacing the room. “It’s not on the market, officially anyway. The point
is, would you be interested?”
“Well... I’d certainly like to know more. Where is it?”
Richard’s eyes twinkle. “It’s not far from here. Want to take a look?”
Ryan exchanges glance with me. “We both would.”
“Good.” He ponders, then reaches into a pocket, jingling keys. “I’ll drive. Wrap up warm.”
*****