sniff under my armpits, they held up alright. “Could’ve had a shower, too. Wanna make a good impression, like.”
Her expression pissed all over my parade. I didn’t have time to react before the doorbell went again. Casey barked and Sophie flinched, waving her arms around in a panic. “Oh fuck,” she said. “Jesus Christ, Callum, Jesus Christ. Please just play along, will you? For God’s sake just play along.”
I didn’t know what she meant until she opened the door. Sophie’s sister was taller than she was. A skinny thing with longer hair. Her nose was bigger, but she was pretty too. She sure didn’t look pleased to be there, clomping her way in with heels and a clipboard under her arm.
Sophie’s sister eyed me like a piece of crap on her shoe, and all thoughts I had of a great family introduction were smashed into pieces. “I didn’t realise you had guests,” she said.
I met Sophie’s eyes and they were desperate, frantic. They were cold. “They were just leaving,” she said. She ushered me into the hallway before I could react, Casey, too. “Thanks for dropping by,” she hissed. “I’ll check with the allocations team on Monday, Mr Jackson, see if we can get your application moving along. If you could call into the office I’ll sort out the additional paperwork.”
I stared in shock, from Sophie, to her snotty sister and back again. I raised my eyebrows, begging her to say something, anything. To backtrack and introduce me properly, tell her sister how happy she is with me, how much I mean to her.
She didn’t say fucking anything, just opened the door and shooed me out like a fucking rodent.
She mouthed sorry before she closed the door in my face.
And I skulked back to the fucking sewer where I belonged.
***
Chapter Fourteen
Sophie
“That’s a turn up for the books,” Alexandra spat. “I thought this was a pile of horseshit, but clearly not.” She waved the piece of paper in my face, but I couldn’t make out any of it. “A complaint letter,” she expanded. “Claiming you have a dog in the property and undesirables living here. This is Canary Wharf, Sophie, not one of your poxy council estates. We can’t have people like that here. How on earth does it look?!”
My chest was still paining, torn into pieces by the hurt in Callum’s eyes. In that one last moment, as I’d closed the door in his face, I hadn’t seen the savage standing there, I’d seen the boy who’d thrown his pens from his shitty mother’s balcony. A hurt, defeated, broken little boy.
Yet still I fucking lied. Still I held onto appearances like they fucking mattered.
“He’s a tenant,” I said.
“Sure he is,” she snapped. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Sophie. The guy looked at you like you were candy on a stick. He seemed pretty comfortable here, too, for a tenant.”
“He’s been around a few times. I’m helping him.”
“Is that what they call it these days? Really, Sophie, you need to recalibrate your tastes and select something more becoming of you.”
“Why are you here?” I stomped in her direction, folding my arms across my chest. “You’ve seen the place, now go. Write it up on your little form and get out of my business.”
“This place is my business, and you are a lousy tenant.” She kicked at the sofa, and my attempt to hide the damage looked pitiful. “That’s his dog, then, is it?”
“Yes.”
“So, who’s dog has trashed our property?”
“It’s not trashed,” I seethed. “It just needs a bit of patching up.”
I flinched as she shoved the door shut, rubbing down the tatty paint on the other side. “Patching up? You are joking? The place is a travesty.”
“It’s hardly a travesty!” I hissed. “It’s got a bit of wear and tear.”
“Maybe this is wear and tear by your poor people housing association standards, but believe me, we set the bar a little higher at Hardings.”
“Sue me, then.”
“Not planning on suing you, Sophie, just evicting you.”
“You can’t be serious. Over some scratches on the back of the door?!”
“Over destruction of property and breach of tenancy conditions. Our terms clearly state no pets, and reading between the lines would have made it damned clear that people like him aren’t welcome here.”
The gall of the woman took me aback. I stared into her spiteful eyes, reaching for the gangly teenager underneath the veneer. “People like him? You’ve got a short memory, Alex. People in glass houses...”