Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Matt laughed. “We were expected to find our spouses from a pool of suitable society people. He had the most desirable name and the least amount of underbite.”
“Not to be offensive, but all of this is…terrible,” I blurted. If Matt was offended, he hid it well.
“No argument here. Why do you think all of my friends are normal people?”
“Um, you’re friends with a famous rapper,” I reminded him. “And other assorted billionaires.”
“None of them old money,” he corrected me.
“Fair.” I took a last puff and offered the joint back to Matt. When he waved it away, I dropped the roach on the ground and stubbed it out under my shoe. “I’m sorry for what he said. About your leg.”
“That’s not for you to be sorry about.” Matt put his arm around my waist and nodded toward the house.
“Maybe not,” I said as we walked up the path to the stairs. “But I’m still sorry that he said it.”
“He isn’t sorry about it, so we shouldn’t waste our energy.” Matt gave me a wink. I was officially shut out from being concerned about his mental well-being. I didn’t like that, at all.
Inside, I moved away from Matt. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll meet you at the cake.”
There was a line for the bathroom I’d used earlier, so I took a chance and wandered back upstairs, thinking it would probably be quicker to use the one in Matt’s room. Turning a corner, I nearly collided with a very short person in a very grown-up-looking gown.
“Oh, Charlotte,” Briony said, pressing a hand to her chest. “Pardon me. I was rushing and I shouldn’t have been.”
“That’s okay,” I said, glancing around in the hope that I would see her mother or her nanny or anyone else who could prevent me from having to talk to the kid. It wasn’t this particular child, though I did find her and her brother exceptionally creepy. I wasn’t good at speaking to kids in general. I always felt awkward and judged.
“I saw you were seated with my mother’s paramour at dinner,” Briony said. “I do hope it wasn’t too awkward for you.”
Ooh. The child came with gossip. Then, I felt a pang of guilt. The kid was fully aware of one of her parents’ affairs. And if she was aware of one, she was probably also aware of another. That was heartbreaking. Or she’s a kid and she doesn’t know what paramour is. Maybe she was thinking of that two-thousands band. “I’m sorry, your mother’s what, sweetie?”
“Her paramour.” Her little brow crumpled in confusion. “I’m sorry, perhaps I’m not using the word correctly. I did only just learn it. Her lover?”
Oh god, that was an even worse word to hear coming out of a kid’s mouth. “I—”
“That is the correct meaning, isn’t it?” she asked. It took a few attempts to find my voice.
“Uh. Uh, yeah. That’s what it means.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought my vocabulary needed polishing.”
“It’s more polished than mine,” I muttered.
“So, how do you know Scott?” she asked.
“Oh, he’s my brother,” I said before I made the mental link. “Wait—”
“I’m so sorry.” Briony’s little hands came up to cover her mouth. “You weren’t aware.”
“Aware that my brother…is your mother’s…”
“Paramour,” she repeated. “Lover.”
“Yeah, no, I got that.” My mind raced, but my every thought collided with a solid wall of revulsion. My brother was fucking Catherine? I’d overheard my brother fucking Catherine? And he’d had the nerve to… No, that couldn’t be correct. Scott had been waiting for me in the foyer the whole time. He’d been there when Matt and I had returned. Unless he was the fastest gun in the East—gross—and he could have somehow teleported, it was impossible that he’d been the guy going at it with Catherine. “You know,” I began, my heart pounding in my throat as I recovered from the scare, “your dad was looking for you.”
“Is Father here?” Her faint brows raised. “Well, my brother has lost a bet with me. Do excuse me, won’t you?”
“Of course.” I watched her skip off, a physical action so incongruous with our conversation that I wondered if my high ass had hallucinated it all.
“And maybe don’t use the word ‘paramour,’” I called after her. “I might not be clear on the definition either.”
She certainly wasn’t.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
(Matthew)
By the time Charlotte came back to the dining room, I’d already put away two pieces of cake.
“Where did you go to the bathroom? France?” I asked as she sat down and scooted her chair in.
“There was a line, so I had to go all the way back to the room.” She snorted a laugh and took the dessert plate I pushed toward her. “You’ll never believe what happened.”
“You ran into the ghost?”
Her face fell into a deadly serious expression. “The more you joke about that, the more nervous you make me.”