The Interview (The Whittingtons, #1)

by Donna Alam

Women are fickle, you know. And men are idiots.

“Who?” I put my menu down because… “It better not be who I think it is.” “Calm down.” Reaching out, she pats my hand. “You’ll have an aneurysm.”

“Speak of the devil, and the fucker will appear.”

“If I’m a good girl?” My gaze flicks over her. “Let’s not make goals unobtainable.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” she ask, faux aggrieved. “I’m not sure being good is your forte.

“People who get out of bed with a smile on their face are to be treated with suspicion.”

“You’re like sunshine, you know.” “Bright and cheerful?” I reply with a tiny preen. “Deceptively dangerous. Something tells me if I’m not careful, you’ll leave me burned.”

“I am not having a Julia Robert’s moment with you,”

“Daddy is a mindset, darling. It doesn’t come with age restrictions.”

“Given Dad was cremated, do you reckon that would make him a snow globe,” Brin asks, glancing across the table to El.

“And if I were to hire a dominatrix, Olivia would only want to watch. Actually, she’d probably supply implements.” “Ever heard of TMI?” “Knowing my wife, she’d probably buy some awful mediaeval torture device. Thigh-high boots, too. She’s nothing if not committed.”

“Perfect doesn’t have a timeframe,”