Page 53 of Ruthless Claim

“Told you,” Valentina mutters.

“I didn’t say anything,” I manage.

“You were holding your breath.” She turns back to Brigid. “What are you reading?”

“Nothing you’d know,” Brigid says sharply, but the edge in it has changed. There’s less dismissal and more test.

Valentina raises an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Brigid studies her then shows her the book. I’ve never heard of it, but knowing my aunt’s taste, it’s a book that makes you think. Valentina’s eyebrows rise further.

“I have thoughts about that book,” she says.

Brigid stares at her in disbelief and I fight the urge to do the same. “You’ve read it?”

“I read everything.” She says it without arrogance. “I found the second half self-indulgent.”

“The second half,” Brigid says, “is the only part worth reading. The first half is throat-clearing.”

“The first half is the architecture,” Valentina argues. “Without it, the second half is just noise.”

Brigid’s eyes narrow. Then she moves over on the small sofa by the fireplace and I nearly fall over. That’s as close as Brigid Brennan gets to an engraved invitation. “Sit down and explain yourself.”

“Gladly,” Valentina retorts and sits. I step back and watch the two most difficult women I’ve ever been in a room with square off over a book.

I don’t know why I even worried. She’s going to be absolutely fine.

I think something else too, but I shove it away.

I leave them to it and find my cousin Declan by the drinks table, which is where Declan always is because he has the same relationship with these functions that I do and the drinks table is at least something to do with your hands.

“Your wife,” Declan nods toward Brigid’s corner, “is sitting next to Aunt Brigid.”

I pick up a drink. “I know.”

Declan stares at me. “Brigid is talking to her.”

“I know, Dec.”

“Brigid doesn’t talk to people at these.” He looks at me with something between bafflement and respect. “Who is she?”

“She’s my wife.”

Declan scowls at me. “I know that, you ass. I mean—who is she?”

I think about everything I know about Valentina and everything that I don’t. “I’m still working that out,” I tell him. Declan nods at it like it makes complete sense.

Soon after, Teresa calls for dinner.

Valentina and I are seated at the end of the dining table.

I pull her chair before she can reach it.

She goes still for half a second.

She clearly wasn’t expecting it, but she sits and looks up at me when she does.

The look lasts just a moment too long before she glances away.