The Boss - Caz Finlay Bad Blood

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between them.

      ‘No worries. I’ll make a cup of tea instead,’ he said before moving to the sink to fill the kettle.

      ‘You do realize Jake’s going to uni in a couple of months, don’t you?’ she said.

      ‘So?’ Nathan shrugged.

      ‘He doesn’t need you filling his head full of crap about how wonderful your life is in the meantime,’ she snapped.

      ‘I can’t help it if the kid idolizes me, Grace,’ he smirked. ‘I have that effect on people. You should know.’ He winked.

      ‘Ha,’ she snorted. ‘You haven’t had that effect on me for a very long time, Nathan.’

      He lit a cigarette and sat back down at the kitchen table as he waited for the kettle to boil. She didn’t bother to tell him she didn’t allow smoking in her house; deciding she had a bigger axe to grind with him.

      ‘If he gets into any trouble because of you, Nathan, I’ll—’

      ‘You’ll what, Grace?’ He smirked, but she could see the anger flash momentarily across his face.

      ‘Just remember he’s an eighteen-year-old kid, with his whole life ahead of him, Nathan. Do not do anything to screw that up for him.’

      He shrugged. ‘Whatever you say.’

      Grace watched him as he blew smoke rings across the kitchen.

      ‘This is a nice place you’ve got yourself here,’ he said, changing the subject, his eyes twinkling as he talked. ‘The pub must be doing well?’

      ‘Yes, the pub does okay. It keeps me and Jake anyway.’ She almost told him that it had taken her two years to make the place viable again, after he had almost run it into the ground. But that was old news. All that would have done was start an argument, and she was in no mood for one with him today. Besides, he appeared to be in a very affable mood and she wondered if the previous night’s antics had been forgotten. Or at least written off as some drunken lunacy, brought on by his nostalgia at being back in their old home. Maybe her warning had actually worked, and he realized she was not a woman to be messed with anymore. Whatever the reason, she was grateful that he hadn’t brought it up and appeared to hold no ill feelings about it.

      ‘How is Kayleigh?’ Grace asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her financial affairs.

      ‘She’s good, got a terrible hangover this morning though,’ he laughed.

      ‘She seems like a nice girl.’

      ‘Yes, she is. She’s a star, my Kayleigh. The way she waited for me to get out of prison. Not many women would do that, it seems.’

      ‘Well not many women would put up with you, full stop,’ she smiled. ‘Personally, I think I deserve the George Cross for sticking it out as long as I did.’

      He shook his head. ‘You’ve developed a sense of humour while I’ve been away, Grace. You never used to be this funny.’ He smiled as he said it, but Grace knew he was rankled by the way he momentarily clenched his jaw.

      ‘Well, I’d better get to work. You and Jake have a good day,’ she said breezily.

      He stood up as she started to leave and kissed her softly on the cheek. ‘You too, Grace.’

      As she left the house, Grace undid the top buttons of her blouse to allow some air at her skin, which burned red hot. Nathan was being so nice it was unnerving. Even when she’d tried to push his buttons, he’d kept a lid on his temper. That was Nathan, she supposed, always keeping her on her toes. Or maybe he really had changed? She laughed out loud at that last thought. She was willing to play along with his little charade for now. It was easier for her, after all. But she knew it wouldn’t be long before the charming facade slipped – it always did.

       Chapter Six

      Grace walked into the almost empty bar area of the Rose and Crown. Her bar manager, Marcus Holden, was placing menus on the tables in preparation for the usual lunchtime crowd. He usually opened up so she could have a lie in – a perk of being the boss. Marcus was her longest serving and most reliable employee, as well as a good friend.

      He’d worked at the bar since Grace was seventeen, and at just two years older than her, they’d clicked from the very beginning. When her dad died a year later he helped her to navigate the running of the place and had been by her side ever since, apart from a brief hiatus when Nathan had sacked him without Grace’s knowledge. The first thing she’d done after taking control of her pub again was to phone Marcus and beg him to come back. He’d accepted before she’d even finished the question. He often joked that Grace could never fire him because he knew where the bodies were buried, and Grace always smiled politely when he did, because Marcus had no idea. He was a great pub manager, but she did her best to keep him far away from her other business activities. They both preferred it that way.

      Patrick Carter was sitting at the bar on a stool, reading a newspaper and eating a bacon sandwich, which he’d no doubt talked the chef into making him, even though the kitchen wasn’t officially open.

      ‘Morning, Pat.’ She smiled as she greeted him. ‘What brings you here so early?’

      ‘Just wanted to make sure you were okay.’ He smiled back.

      ‘I’m fine. I can look after myself.’

      ‘I know that, boss. Just here in case you need me,’ he said before returning to his newspaper and sandwich.

      It still sounded odd to hear the legendary Patrick Carter calling her Boss. He’d given her that moniker shortly after they’d met ten years ago, and he’d worked for her ever since. But not in the same way Marcus did. No, Patrick undertook more specialized work. He did the type of jobs that you couldn’t advertise in the local newspaper. Running a pub in Liverpool could be a dangerous game after all. Patrick was what some might call her right-hand man. One of her most trusted confidantes. He gave good counsel, but more importantly he knew when to keep his opinions to himself and do as he was told.

      Grace took one of the discarded bread crusts from Patrick’s plate. ‘You always leave the best bit,’ she said before taking a bite.

      He grinned at her. ‘Leave them for you, don’t I?’

      Marcus approached her and put an arm around her shoulder, giving her a light peck on the cheek. ‘Morning, lovely,’ he said. ‘You all right?’

      ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she snapped. She hated to be coddled by them.

      ‘Okay, keep your knickers on,’ he pouted. ‘I’m only asking.’

      ‘We’re just worried about you,’ Patrick added. Before she could reply he interrupted her. ‘Yes, we know you can look after yourself, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be concerned about you.’

      ‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just on edge, that’s all.’

      ‘I’m not surprised,’ Marcus said. ‘The way he walked in here last night, like he owned the place.’

      ‘Well that’s Nathan,’ Grace said.

      ‘I don’t get what you ever saw in him, Grace,’ Patrick said. ‘He’s such an arrogant prick.’

      Grace smiled. He was an arrogant prick, there was no doubt about that. But he hadn’t always been that way. Sometimes she allowed herself to think about when they first met and how incredibly happy he’d made her. After losing her dad she’d felt so alone. And then Nathan had bounded into her life, full of energy and confidence. He could make her laugh like no one else ever had. Whenever she was around him the whole world had seemed brighter, and she felt as if she could face anything with Nathan by her side. Dear God, the naiveté

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