Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“You haven’t got a heart,” she whispers hotly in my ear.
As she begins to pull back, I hold her for a second longer than appropriate in a nonverbal behave.
“Oh. You’ve been dating?”
“I just didn’t mention it because there are way too many opinions in this house.”
“That’s true of most large families who love each other.” Polly’s reply makes it sound as though this is a common refrain.
“Raif asked me to marry him, and I said yes. We’re really happy, and neither of us wanted to wait. So we took his jet and flew to Gibraltar. It’s where Raif is from.”
“Oh.” Polly reaches out, sliding Lavender’s hair over her shoulder. “How lovely.” Her eyes seem to glisten as they flit my way again. “You had family at the ceremony?”
“No. It was just the two of us. Lavender insisted we get back for lunch today to share our happy news.”
“Yeah,” she replies without much conviction. “To tell you all.”
“Oh, well. Lovely,” Polly musters. “I’m sure your brothers will be—”
“I don’t care what they say,” Lavender retorts. “I’m twenty-four, not twelve. I get to make my own life choices. Raif has his own private jet,” hurricane Lavender says, veering the conversation away. “Not like Whit. He uses a company jet,” she adds for my benefit. “And he has such a beautiful house in Gibraltar, Mum. It’s huge! All white, and all clean lines, overlooking the ocean. Isn’t that right, Raify bear?
“It has a pool and tennis courts, and Raify baby says we can all spend the summer there. All of us,” she adds with malicious glee. “Kids, partners, and Granny. Isn’t that right, honey?”
“Of course.” It doesn’t mean I’ll be there. “But I think you should pick a pet name and stick with it, princess.”
“Do you, pookie?” This time, her smile is all teeth. “Well, I have to choose. I suppose it will have to be Rita.”
“Rita?” Poor Polly. Her head moves between us like she’s at Wimbledon.
“Inside joke, Mum.”
“Oh.” But Polly still looks disturbed.
“When you know, you know. You’ve always told us that,” Lavender says. “You and Dad didn’t know each other for very long before you got married, did you? And look at how happy you both were.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“And what about Whit? One minute, he’s insisting Mimi is nothing but his PA even though we all knew he was treating her like his little toe and banging her on every bit of furniture in his office—”
“Lavender!”
“Next, they’re getting married. And you were over the moon. You don’t look like that now.”
“Whit had known Mimi for years,” Polly protests. “He was in his thirties.”
“So is Raif. Barely,” she adds under her breath.
“Sorry, what?” Her mother’s head swings between us like a two-year-old with a Lazy Susan as she tries to figure out what’s going on. I can’t say I blame her. Lavender isn’t exactly selling our love.
“I’m thirty-six,” I offer with an engaging smile. “Lavender does love her little jokes.”
“Whit might’ve been older, but Mimi was around my age.”
“Yes, but—”
“She’s not your daughter, so not your concern?” Lavender offers. Taunts?
“I wasn’t going to say that. I think of Mimi as my daughter.”
“You were gagging for them to get together. Stuck your ore in and everything. So why can’t you be happy for me? Why do I have to be different?”
“You aren’t different, darling.”
Oh, but she is. My wife is a brilliant strategist and excellent deflector. If she ever tires of art, she could try acting. Or maybe world domination.
“It’s not as though I joined a cult,” she mutters before downing a mouthful of her soda. “Though I’m sure Raif could start a cult if he wanted to.”
I don’t think she’s referring to my charisma. My tongue, however…
“Will you be taking some time away from the gallery?”
“No. Why would I?”
“To spend some time together? At his beautiful house. A honeymoon?”
Lavender gives her head an adamant shake. “The gallery is still my focus. And Raif has his own stuff going on.”
Before Polly can ask about my line of work, I add, “Lavender made it clear from the outset that the gallery is her priority. I understand how important it is to her. Pulling her daughter into my side, I add, “We have a lifetime to look forward to.”
“Oh, how lovely. And supportive.”
“Your daughter means the world to me.” It’s not entirely a lie. Marrying her means the world. It helps me protect what means the world to me, at least.
“Well, congratulations,” Polly adds with the kind of false gaiety no one would buy. “To you both…” She seems at a loss for words.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Lavender suddenly seems to wilt against me before stumbling into her mother’s arms.
“No, darling. It’s just a surprise, that’s all. You must never apologize for being happy. Life is too short not to grab those moments of happiness,” she says, taking her daughter’s face in her hands. Their hug is brief but fierce, and both women’s eyes glisten as they break away.