Page 178 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
“A Sir,” Emery repeated, drawing the word out like she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the concept. She sat directly beside me, our bodies so close they stuck together.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Virginia squeezed Sir Balty’s hand.
I swear if he leered at Emery one more time, I’d ruin his life, then rearrange his face for sport. Douche was gonna be her step-father, and he stared at her like she was a piece of meat he wanted to dig in to.
“Congratulations, Sir Balthazar,” Small Dick said, grabbing a menu off the table. This tool looked like every Disney villain rolled into one idiotic, blue-blooded asshole.
I didn't touch
a menu as everyone sifted through the options. Virginia darted her eyes away from me. She'd spent the morning caught somewhere between the sneer she used to give me and the brown-nosed chatter because I was suddenly the most powerful man in the room.
One of the white-suited waiters approached.
“Order anything, Nash.” Virginia glanced at him before saying, “It’s on our country club tab.”
“Perfect,” Emery cut in, flipped the menu open, then preceded to order two of everything that didn’t suck.
“Two of everything?” The waiter gnashed his lips together. Poor guy wanted to flee.
“Of everything.” She offered the closed menu to him. “Treat yourself to a two-hundred percent tip, too.”
Virginia’s fingers turned white around the stem of her mimosa glass. She pursed her lips until the waiter left. “The temper tantrum isn’t cute.”
“Perhaps not.” A sly smile brightened Emery’s face. “You know what is cute? A spare tire, so I can’t wait to dig into the food.”
“This. This behavior is exactly why I didn’t make you maid of honor.”
“You’re getting married?” Emery finished off her second cocktail of the afternoon.
“Yes. Soon. I invited you here today to announce it.”
“You didn't invite me, Virginia. You demanded it, which happens when your own daughter cannot stand the sight of you.”
Virginia ignored her. “We have put it off long enough, waiting for you to find your senses and return to Eastridge. No use in waiting now. I’ll be a Van Doren soon, and Cordelia will be my maid of honor. You remember Cordelia, right? Able’s sister. Lovely girl.” She stared at Small Dick like he was her pride and joy. “Balthazar has agreed to make Able his best man. You’ll be my bridesmaid and accompany Able as his date.”
“The hell she will,” I gritted out. “Were you dropped on your head as a child?”
“Pardon me?”
“It would explain the misshaped head, obsession with injecting chemicals into your face, and overall deranged behavior.”
For the record, I had no issue with plastic surgery. Virginia consistently prioritizing it above Emery, on the other hand, rubbed me the wrong way.
“You act as if my daughter hates me, Mr. Prescott.”
Emery dug her fingernails in my thigh, the message clear—she didn’t need me fighting her battles. She thanked the waiter for topping up her drink and sipped it.
“I don’t hate you, Virginia. You shaped me, so to hate you is to hate myself… which, if I think about it, might be what you’ve wanted all along. I am the younger, shinier version of you, and it’s always bothered you. Hasn’t it?”
“This is exactly why I chose Cordelia. I would have made you my maid of honor, Emery, but you’re entirely too untrustworthy for such a gift.”
Another gulp of her drink. “Thanks for sparing me, Virginia.”
“I expect you at the rehearsal dinner or you can say goodbye to your trust fund.”
“Sounds fun.” She pushed her chair away from the table and stood. “Nash and I would love to go.” She waved at her soon-to-be step-father and Able. “See you there, Sir Balty and Small Dick.”
We spent the rest of the evening at the bar, Emery chugging down amaretto sours until I’d asked the waiter to switch them to water.
