Trials and Tiaras (Untouchable #7) - Heather Long Page 0,1

keep us waiting, surprise. She had indeed pulled on a heavy coat and warm shoes. I motioned for her to go past, and she barely even glanced at Jake. He mouthed ‘Wow’ to me, and I shook my head.

Sometimes, I forgot the guys didn’t have as much experience with my parents as Frankie did. They were so rarely around. Just thinking of her sent a muscle twitching at the corner of my eye.

“…bring coffee out for all of us,” Muriel said. “And do turn on the heating lamps for me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She had a thin silver case in her hand—a hand that now wore gloves. The wind outside might threaten her hair, but that was the price we would pay. Her butler was already carrying out a tray with large mugs of coffee. Jake grabbed two when I would have left it, but I took the second one from him when he glared.

Seriously, if he came to be my babysitter, I was gonna give him a black eye the next time we boxed. Once Muriel had her mug, the butler opened the doors to the patio. The wind was definitely brisk, but the alcove off this side of the building offered us a bit of shelter.

The heating lamps did the rest. Someone had already cleared away the snow and any ice accumulation. We paid people to take care of everything. For the first time in my life, it really seemed like a fucking waste.

At Frankie’s, we all had chores and they sucked. But we did it, and I kind of liked the fact we all split up the work. It had kind of turned her apartment into our apartment. It had taken us a long time to get here, and I wasn’t going to let anyone…

Fuck. I shook off the wandering thoughts, even as my gut bottomed out. No. Just fucking no. It was not all going to hell because Edward couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

Muriel lit a cigarette and then took a seat on the padded chair just below the patio heater, looking for all the world like we were on vacation and having the most pleasant time. “Well, are you going to send your friend away?”

“No.”

“I would prefer to keep private matters private.”

“Trust me,” I told her as I set my cup down on the table and then braced my hands on the green marble monstrosity, “I would prefer if you’d all kept your fucking private matters private. But guess what, they aren’t anymore…”

“Archibald…”

“Save it, you were a womb with a view and a name on my birth certificate. I spent more time with my nannies and my boarding schools than I ever did with you. So sit there, lose the attitude, and answer my questions. Believe me, when I’m done, you’ll never have to see me again. I know what a chore that’s always been.”

Her lips compressed, and her expression turned icy.

I took her silence for compliance and began. “Why did Edward marry you?”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Why. Did. Edward. Marry. You?” I ground out each word. “The truth.”

Exhaling a stream of blue smoke, she eyed me and then said, “Because I was pregnant. We had a brief relationship, I got pregnant, we got married. It’s what you do.”

“Brief relationship is that what we call his flings?”

Another puff of her cigarette. “If you wish. I don’t call them anything but inconvenient these days. And very shortly, they won’t be my problem at all.”

“You’re divorcing now, why?”

“Are you seriously…”

“Muriel, don’t make me repeat myself. I am asking the questions. You’re divorcing now, why?”

I could practically feel Jake’s gaze boring into me. I hadn’t moved from where I’d braced my hands on the table. I’d done it as much to keep from throttling her as I had for effect.

Another drag and exhale. “The terms of the prenuptial are no longer in effect.”

I frowned. Then… “Because I turned eighteen.”

For a split second, something resembling regret seemed to pass over her features. Or maybe she had gas.

“Yes. When I got pregnant, I told your father. Three days later, he proposed. We were married a week after that in a quick civil ceremony and then a reception for the couple who eloped.”

So that part of Edward’s story checked out. I thought I’d feel something at the admission, but it barely even registered.

“You were a fling?”

She met my gaze evenly. “I was available and interested. He wanted to punish his girlfriend—he was quite honest about his intentions, and I was quite amenable to