Fifty Shades Fatter - A Sequel (Fifty Shades of Neigh Book 2) by Anna Roberts

Author:Anna Roberts [Roberts, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Anna Roberts
Published: 2013-08-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The Irma Monologues

After the therapy session I feel strangely restless and innervated. I remove a couple of layers of flannel in the hope of catching Crispian's attention, but he turns on his laptop and the next thing I hear from him is when the door-buzzer goes and he yells from the couch.

"Baby, can you get that? My tag goes off if I go near the hallway."

Crispian has ordered a giant Chinese feast and has misplaced his wallet. I pay for the takeout. The delivery boy coughs. I ask him if he's seen a doctor. He coughs some more and holds out a hand. Jeez - I'm picking up the tips now? I really do hope that bitch-troll of an attorney comes through; I miss the days when Crispian paid for everything. And I miss my car. And my state-of-the-art laptop. And the impromptu champagne lunches aboard his luxury yacht.

"Hanna, you are a goddess," he says, when I stagger back into the great room, over a hundred bucks lighter and weighed down with a small Chinese banquet.

"I am?" Huh. Maybe he's into me after all.

"A goddess of deliciousness. I can smell your char siu from here."

"Okay," I murmur. "Thank you."

He taps on the laptop a little more. I wait. He glances up. "Come on, Hanna," he says. "Shred my duck already."

Shred his...? Oh my. I flush. "Um...I don't know how to do that," I murmur.

Crispian frowns. "You don't know how to shred a duck?"

I shake my head. "I've never...had reason to, I guess."

"You take two forks, stick them in the duck breast and pull them in opposite directions. Then you put the duck in the pancake with the hoi-sin sauce. Although don't bother with the scallions and cucumber - it's against my religion to eat vegetables."

"Oh. I see." I dish out the food. As I'm doing so my phone bloops a text alert and I see it's from Timothy Grope. It just says CALL ME.

I haven't forgiven him for those threatening text messages, so I text back NO.

As I'm rolling up duck in pancakes he texts again. QUIT DICKING AROUND + CALL ME.

I start to text I AM NOT DICKING AROUND I AM PREPARING DINNER but I get as far as the k in dick before my phone slips out of my duck-greased grasp and plops into a container of sweet and sour sauce. Shit.

"Hasten thee with the victuals, wench," says Crispian. "Lest I fade away from hunger."

I fish around in the sweet and sour with a fork. The stuff is really gloopy and when I pull my phone out it's sticky. The silence between us stretches like gum.

"Um...like prithee hurry the fuck up." Crispian's voice is irritable and I kind of want to tell him to get off the couch and get his own damn dinner. After all, I paid for it. I really miss him being a billionaire. He used to have staff for this kind of thing.

"Yeah, okay," I call back. Hopefully the sweet and sour won't taste too much like phone.

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