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Her mother turned up her nose. “Don’t you own any china cups? Tea tastes much nicer in a proper cup. I don’t do mugs. I should have brought my Noritake tea service, but I barely had time to pack anything. I bet I didn’t even remember a handbag to match my white church shoes.”

She sniffed loudly into her handkerchief. Meg wasn’t sure if her mother was more distraught about having mismatched outfits in her case or about the apparent end of her marriage.

Sam arrived back into the kitchen wearing shoes and a jacket.

Her mother glanced up at him. “Are you going out? Good boy. I need to talk to Meg, alone.”

Meg folded her arms. “You want to discuss Dad?”

Her mother shook her head. “No, I want to talk about you. However, I don’t think you should be airing your dirty linen in front of strangers.”

“Sam’s not a stranger. This is his home. I don’t have any secrets.”

“I’m sure you do, dear. Sam doesn’t need to hear about your lifestyle issues. He’s such a good boy.”

What lifestyle issues? Before Meg had a chance to open her mouth and tell her mother she was being unreasonable making someone leave their own home, Sam interrupted. “Can we talk for a minute, Meg?”

“Sure.” She had a horrible feeling her mother might have found out about her little run in with the cops. It had only been a matter of time. But that didn’t explain what leaving her dad had to do with it. Happy to escape whatever grilling her mother planned, Meg got to her feet. “I won’t be long, Mum.”

She followed Sam to the front door before whispering. “Coward, where are you going?”

“I figured we should divide and conquer.”

“What?”

“I heard her say she left your dad. I’m going to speak to him. Maybe if we work on both of them we can get them back together.”

Meg batted her eyelids at him. “Aw, I never knew you cared so much about my parents’ relationship.”

He grinned and she leaned closer whispering, “Or are you just worried she may stay forever and you’ll never get me alone again?”

Nuzzling her neck, he growled. “And you’re not worried about never getting to watch my stallion going through his paces?”

Her breath caught in her throat. God, was she ever. She turned her face and met his fierce kiss, devouring him like a large bowl of chocolate chip ice cream.

Her mother’s voice floated through from the kitchen, breaking into the moment. “Meg?”

She pulled away, panting for air. “God, and I didn’t even have my mouth anywhere near your winky.”

Sam chuckled and dropped a kiss on her cheek before letting himself out the front door.

Chapter Fifteen

The doorbell chimed the national anthem. Sam didn’t know whether he should sing
Advance Australia Fair
or salute. Coming to visit Meg’s dad seemed like a good idea twenty minutes ago, but on reflection, he wasn’t sure of the reception he would get. They hadn’t spoken since Mr. Riley’s birthday party, when he had foolishly seduced Meg in her parents’ kitchen. Her father had caught them and seemed to take their newfound sexual relationship in his stride, but things might have changed. Anyway, who was he to try and convince the man to take back the one woman in the world who scared Sam shitless?

Before Sam had finished convincing himself to flee, the door swung open.

“Sam. I guess you found my wife. You’d better come in.”

Mr. Riley disappeared inside and Sam followed. The house looked the same as usual. Nothing out of place. All lace doilies, knick-knacks, and expensive china accounted for. No sign of dust or destruction. Whatever had gone on between husband and wife, Meg’s mother obviously hadn’t resorted to beating the poor man with her designer handbag.

“Drink?”

Sam shrugged. “Sure. Tea would be good.”

“Son, you need to live a little. I thought a nice drop of scotch would hit the spot. I might even switch on the TV and watch a bit of footie. Hell, I might phone and get a pizza delivered and eat it straight from the box with the boys while we play a hand of poker.”

“Do you think that would be wise, Mr. Riley. Mrs. Riley might not like it.”

“Robert. Call me Robert, and it seems to me Mrs. Riley has made her decision, and I know better than to try and change that woman’s mind.”

Sam sank into an armchair and waited as Robert filled two glasses almost to the brim with scotch, and then placed them on the coffee table without a coaster. The man was playing with fire. Something serious must be going on.

He watched as Robert took a slug of his drink, lay back in his chair and put his feet on the table. Sam was as much of a slob as the next bloke, but he genuinely feared for Robert’s life. Even though he knew Mrs. Riley wasn’t home he couldn’t quite believe she wouldn’t burst through the door any second and start berating the poor man for desecrating her furniture.

“Sit back. Relax.” Robert chuckled. “She has no plans to come home. Apparently I’m as debauched as our youngest daughter. I might be beyond salvation, but she still holds out hope for Meg.”

Sam frowned. “Sorry. What’s that?”

Robert picked up the newspaper lying on the floor next to his chair and tossed it at Sam. “Page two.”

He put his drink on the table and opened the paper to the offending page. God, Meg would be mortified if she ever saw this. The headline, “
High Class Male Prostitution Business Busted
,” was bad enough. But the picture of the police escorting her, Michael Monaghan, and Maud from the Plaza Hotel was worse. He dropped the paper to the floor. He couldn’t bear to read the article. No doubt the reporter made the whole business sound a lot more sordid than it had actually been.

Sam got to his feet. “I need to talk to Meg before she reads this.”

“Sit down, son. Until her mother’s finished, you won’t get a word in edgeways. And Meg’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”

Did he want to walk into the middle of a huge row between mother and daughter? He ran his fingers through his hair. If only he hadn’t been so jealous of Michael Monaghan he might have known the mess Meg had gotten herself into and been able to save her before it got to this.

“You love her, don’t you?”

Sam glanced at Mr. Riley. Letting out a loud sigh, he nodded.

The older man grinned. “Good. Now sit down and drink your scotch. You won’t get anywhere taking Vivienne on head first. If you want to get your house back and win the hand of my daughter you need to play the long game, son.”

* * * *

Meg glanced at the wall clock. She had no idea why since the battery had gone flat months ago. It gave the impression time stood still, and right now it seemed to have.

“Are you listening to me, young lady?”

With a sigh, she turned her attention back to her mother. “Of course.”

“So you agree with me then?”

A warning claxon went off in Meg’s head. She’d trod this path on many occasions as a child and been burned. She could still remember the horror of the big, pink, puffy meringue dress she’d worn to her cousin Emma’s wedding. The creation was lovely, if you were four. Meg had been fourteen, and the humiliation of having her new beau Shane Tait laughing at her and calling her a cake topper had never quite disappeared. She thought he was madly in love with her. He was, and with half of the girl’s rugby team, apparently. She knew better than to say yes to anything her mother said when she hadn’t been listening.

“Sorry, agree with what?”

Her mother rolled her eyes and Meg steeled herself for a telling off. “Going away with me somewhere until this all blows over. I know a nice ladies’ retreat that Father O’Dowd recommends. Have you seen the paper?”

“What paper?”

“The local newspaper.”

Meg shook her head. “Nope. The neighbors steal our free copy from the mailbox. I think they use it to line the kitty litter tray for their awful cat. The one that likes to sneak in here and scent spray everything. Cats are horrible, aren’t they? Another cup of tea? I think I might have some TimTams somewhere.”

A fierce stare pinned her to her seat. Apparently, not even a shared dislike of felines or the offer of some light refreshments would put her mother off her stride. She did have a grenade she could lob into the conversation if need be. But sharing the knowledge her sister was a lesbian was best saved for a real emergency, like if her mother really tried to cart her off to a women’s retreat somewhere.

“I’m not here for my benefit. Despite what your father says, I’m sure you’re not beyond redemption, even if you did lead a poor innocent old lady astray.”

Okay, this was getting tedious and she doubted her father had said any such thing about her, and Maud was many things, but innocent wasn’t one of them. Her mother didn’t usually beat around the bush. The only topic that had her hedging was sex. The hint about Maud confirmed her suspicions. It didn’t take a Rhodes’ scholar to work out the paper had obviously got hold of the details of her arrest. Nothing much happened around town for them to report, so when a salacious story about the apprehension of a male prostitute and his madam came along they would relish the opportunity to publish it. She just hoped to God they hadn’t made page one.

“Would I be right in guessing they mentioned something about my run in with the law?”

Chapter Sixteen

Meg’s mother had wept, wrung her hands, begged, pleaded and ordered her, but so far Meg had held her own. She didn’t plan to go anywhere, not now that Sam had finally declared his undying love for her. Thinking about Sam, where was he? He’d left over two hours ago.

The sound of the key in the front door had Meg jumping to her feet.

“Maggie Riley. We haven’t finished yet.”

Too late. As far as Meg was concerned, salvation was at hand. She sprinted through the living room and swung the door open. Her stomach plummeted to her feet. Oh God, just when she thought someone had come to save her.

Maud shoved past Meg. “I need the bathroom. She wouldn’t let me out to pee anywhere.”

Laura stepped inside and shut the door behind her. Meg looked her up and down. The hot pink tube top with
Male Review
in silver written across her boobs, matching hot pink, skin-tight vinyl pants and spike heeled sandals were great on Laura. However, based on the glimpse she had of Maud in the same outfit, it lost something in translation when worn by an older, wrinkly body.

“What are you wearing?”

Her mother echoed the comment. However, her tone sounded more disapproving than amazed.

“Vivienne, Meg. You like it?”

Laura did a twirl while Meg wondered how Laura got away with calling her mother Vivienne. All of Meg’s other friends called her Mrs. Riley or Marm, to her face.

Maud shuffled into the room with toilet paper trailing from the back of her pants. Meg dropped onto the sofa. She had a headache and the feeling the afternoon was about to go from bad to worse.

Mrs. Riley stared from one to the other. “Why are you both dressed like … like … that?” She patted Maud’s arm. “Is this some kind of a joke, dear?”

Maud shrugged her off and tugged her tube top, which appeared to be making a bid to reach her stomach. “I decided I needed to invest in my future.”

She hadn’t. Meg groaned. “Tell me Laura didn’t convince you to put some money into her crazy bar idea.”

“Laura didn’t convince me to put money into her crazy bar idea.”

“So what are you talking about, dear?” Her mother saved her most condescending tone for the elderly and young children.

“I invested in Laura’s bar. I’m now part owner of a classy place down on Menton.”

Classy and Menton didn’t belong in the same sentence. The whole area was rife with strip joints, dance clubs, hookers, and drug dealers. It had gotten so bad the street had its own police station. The authorities wanted the cops to get people into custody and get back out to arrest more lunatics as quickly as possible.

Meg glared at Laura. How could she drag Maud into one of her hair-brained schemes? She might be a bit eccentric, but she was still Meg’s aunt and no one took advantage of her. “What happened to the bank loan, and where do you get off talking Maud into something so stupid?”

Maud pulled herself up to her full five feet nothing and glared at Meg. “It’s my money and I can do what I want with it. You’re not my keeper.” She turned her attention to Meg’s mother. “And neither are you, Vivienne. If you spent more time in bed with your husband and less sticking your nose in other people’s business you might be a damn sight happier and less uptight.”

Before anyone had a chance respond the old lady marched toward the hallway. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a date to get ready for. Laura, be a sweetie and bring my shopping in.”

Laura disappeared outside and Meg’s mother collapsed onto the arm of a chair. She looked positively ill. “Oh my God. Do you think we should get her committed?”

Meg got to her feet and grabbed her bag and keys off the side table. She loved that Aunt Maud had told her mother something she wished she had the guts to say herself, but she knew the fallout would be far from pleasant. She needed to escape the madness just in case it was contagious. “She’s old and going on a date. Not insane.”

Without another word, she stomped out the front door.

She glared at Laura’s arse sticking out of the back of her small SUV. This time she had gone too far. From the name of the bar proudly displayed on Laura’s boobs she could only assume it was a male strip joint. Investing in the venture would hardly help Maud’s case when they got to court.

Laura extricated herself and slammed the door with her hip, her hands full of bags. Bags from stores her mother would never have heard of, or ever shopped at. Sparkly bags from girlie boutiques interspersed with more sensuous totes from at least three different sex shops.

“Oh, don’t glare at me, Meg. What can I say? The bank called and refused the loan. Buying in was Maud’s idea.”

“But I bet you didn’t try and dissuade her, did you?”

Laura shrugged. “Does it matter? The deal’s done. I pick up the keys tomorrow, and then we get to work.”

“We?”

“Sure, you’re not going to let Maud come and work at a bar all by herself, are you? We even bought an outfit for you.”