Male Review by Lillian Grant

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.”
    “She’s not working at a bar, and I am not wearing that getup.”
    Laura grinned. “Are you going to tell her that?”
    Meg felt her pulse thumping in her head. She needed to go before she really lost her temper and hit someone, or had a brain hemorrhage and died.

Chapter Seventeen
    Sam tried to focus on the cardboard box on the table, and then on the cards in his hands. Neither made any sense to him.
    “More pizza, mate?”
    The hairy thickset man to his right lifted the box and waved it under his nose. He inhaled as the scent of tomato sauce tickled his nostrils. Carefully, he reached out and grabbed a piece. After taking a large bite he mhmmd his appreciation. God bless the Italians.
    “You in?”
    “In?”
    “Poker?”
    Sam gave up looking at his cards and placed them face down on the dining room table. “I … I … fold.”
    “Robert, how much scotch did you feed this boy before we arrived? He’s only on his second glass and he can barely mumble his name.”
    “We had a couple. Give Sam a break. He’s a good boy. He’s dating my Maggie.”
    The skinny dude on Sam’s left dropped some notes on the table and called his bet before blowing out a breath. “Brave man. How does Vivienne feel about that?”
    Robert snorted around the cigar he had just lit. “Who cares? It’s not her life, and she’s not here, is she? So, are we playing or jabbering?”
    The sound of the front door opening had the men frozen in the moment. Sam struggled to get to his feet. If he got as far away from the devastation as possible, Mrs. Riley might think he had nothing to do with it. He swayed a little, but managed to cross the room and reach the kitchen bench, glad to use it as support.
    “Dad!”
    The voice wasn’t Mrs. Riley’s.
    “Sam?”
    He focused on the vision of loveliness in front of him. She looked mad. Positively fierce. Jesus, he wanted her. She was gorgeous when she was angry.
    “Meg. God, I love you. Let’s go to bed.” Sam punctuated his comments with a loud belch.
    One of the men at the table snorted. “He’s a real Romeo. How could any girl refuse such a romantic proposal?”
    *
    Meg turned her gaze on the man and the smile disappeared from his face. “I hope you’re planning on helping to clean up before my mother gets home.”
    Anyone would think she had lobbed a hand grenade into the middle of the table and shouted ‘incoming.’ The two men so intent on poker a few minutes ago, jumped