The Perfect Mother - Caroline Mitchell Page 0,24

peanut butter and jelly sandwich sticking to his face. It was hardly the breakfast of champions, but he refused to eat anything else.

Sheridan was less than happy. Having dismissed Samantha, her PA, to wait in the living room, she expected some family time with Daniel and Leo. It was not often the three of them got to sit down for breakfast together. If Daniel wasn’t glued to a manuscript, he was on the phone to his agent. Why couldn’t he give them his undivided attention for twenty minutes in the day?

‘Time for bluddy school!’ Leo giggled, his blue eyes twinkling with delight. He had his father’s dimples, pressed firmly into his chubby cheeks. He was intelligent enough to recognise one of Daddy’s bad words and was happy to repeat it when it popped up.

‘See?’ Sheridan snapped at her husband. ‘I told you he had a foul mouth. I’ve got you to thank for that.’

She turned her attention back to a clean-faced Leo and straightened his tie. She adored his school uniform. It made him look like a miniaturised little man. But she hardly wanted such vulgar language completing the image; the prestigious Saint James Christian school demanded more of its pupils. It was the number-one elementary school in New York, with an overall average grade of A+. At $48,000 a term, Sheridan expected nothing less. Education was important to her, particularly as she’d been home-schooled herself. If the press knew about her fake university degrees, they would have a field day.

She gazed into her son’s eyes. ‘Now listen, darling, Daddy said a bad word. You mustn’t say that to anyone, do you hear me? You’re a good boy.’

Leo slid down from the kitchen chair, his face sullen from the reprimand. ‘I love you, Mommy,’ he recited.

‘That’s nice, darling,’ Sheridan said, patting him on the back. It was Leo’s immediate response whenever he was in trouble, which seemed to be all the time. ‘Now give Daddy a kiss goodbye.’

‘Sorry, mate,’ Daniel said to his son before giving him a squeeze and ruffling his hair. Isabella gave Sheridan a look to say she would comb it before they left. So much was said without words in this household. Sheridan liked it that way.

Checking they had gone, Daniel slid the newspaper across the table. ‘This is what I was reading.’

Sheridan scanned the headlines, taking care to keep her expression fixed. The story was about Rachel, who had been involved in a hit-and-run. Mike had stayed true to his word and wasted no time. ‘IT TAKES ALL SORTS STAR IN INTENSIVE CARE.’ Sheridan’s lips moved soundlessly as she read the article. ‘Huh,’ she said eventually. ‘I can’t say I’m sorry.’

‘That’s what I’m worried about,’ Daniel replied, clearing his throat. ‘You didn’t have anything to do with it, did you?’

Sheridan blurted an exaggerated laugh. ‘Please! It’s a hit-and-run. They happen all the time. You don’t seriously think I was behind the wheel, do you?’

But Mike was. You did this. She could have died. The words formed in her mind like an unwanted invader.

She brought her attention back to the article, unable to look her husband in the eye. Even if Mike was caught, he would never rat on her. Not after that lingering kiss. She sipped her coffee, ridding herself of the memory of his taste.

Daniel pushed his plate of half-eaten scrambled eggs away. ‘You can hardly blame me for asking. The last time we spoke about her you wanted to take out a hit man.’

‘No, it was you who used the words hit man, and you were joking, if I recall . . .’ Sheridan paused, fixing him with her best surprised gaze. ‘Oh, honey, you didn’t, did you? When I said shut her up, I didn’t mean . . .’

Daniel frowned as she turned the tables on him. ‘Of course not! What do you take me for?’

‘The same thing you took me for ten seconds ago,’ Sheridan said, prodding herself in the chest. ‘So try not to look so insulted. Either way, she won’t be blabbing to the gossip mags any time soon.’ She imagined Rachel attached to monitors, a tube shoved down her gossiping throat. ‘Serves her right.’

Sheridan made a mental note to pay Mike when things died down. Perhaps she should give him the amount in full; let him blow himself away with coke and booze. Then again, she might need his services a little longer. She scanned the list of Rachel’s injuries, biting back her smile. That was what happened

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