“You shouldn’t be out here.”
Her smile is stunning. “Neither should you. Look at us. We’re rebels. Risking icy driveways to damn the man. Or overprotective men, in this case.”
I snort as she comes closer and slips her arm through mine. “I hear you’re responsible for my West Coast sales boom. I was wondering why all those orders stopped coming in. Now I know you moved closer to the source.”
“Your skin cream is my one true addiction,” I tell her honestly.
“I could listen to that all night. I’m sorry if things got weird in there.”
“That was me. Everyone else is fine.”
Austen nudges me. “You’re fine, too. I’m very impressed with my brother right now. And it’s obvious he and the kids are both nuts about you.”
Is it obvious? And what would she think of me if she knew how I proposed?
“A little birdie also told me you’ve been dreaming of Paris. You know Royal took me there right after we first met? A hot minute before he proposed and we came back to a double wedding with our friends, Brendan and Miller. It was wonderful, and Brady Finn has a place there he says I can stay at whenever I want. So, if you ever want to take a sister-in-law week and go shopping—”
In the crisp night air, the sound of a car door slamming is loud enough to startle us and stop our conversation. We turn to see someone stalking up the crowded drive.
Her pictures really don’t do her justice.
Rowena Wayne is moving toward us like some avenging angel through the snow, and at first, all I can think is, it’s my first Thanksgiving with the Waynes.
“What in the name of Jane is she doing here?” Austen mutters.
“No idea.”
I really wish this wasn’t happening tonight. I’m out of my element and that makes me vulnerable. I knew I’d have to confront her eventually, and I discovered enough about her from my research to know she’s a woman used to getting her way. But tonight of all nights?
“Hello, Rowena. Happy Thanksgiving.”
She stops a few feet from us, momentarily startled by my greeting, before pushing back her white-fur hood dramatically. “I’m surprised you admit to knowing who I am. Ignorance would have been an excuse for why you didn’t introduce yourself before plotting to steal my life out from under me.”
“Really? That’s what you’re starting with?” Austen challenges. “Were you at drama class for the last six months? Is that why you dropped off your kids and disappeared?”
But Rowena has a point. She’s the boys’ mother. I should have asked to meet her or sent her an email for that reason alone.
“The court case complicated the situation,” I say instead. “But I’m sorry. I do wish we’d met under better circumstances.”
Austen looks at me in surprise, but Rowena sneers attractively.
Even her sneers are attractive.
“How did he luck into snagging such a little submissive to play his obedient wife? And one with all that money in the bank. Emerson thinks he’s so clever. I’ll admit, you’re the whole package. You’re rich, you work with children, you’d get the judge’s sympathy vote for being disabled. He’s really trying to make me look bad.”
She stares pointedly at the prosthesis hidden by my skirt and then I’m holding the pregnant Austen back with both hands. “Say it again and I’ll get you a sympathy vote.”
“Austen? Go inside and let Emerson know we have company?” I ask her, pleading with my eyes. I’d never forgive myself if Royal’s pregnant wife landed on her butt in the snow because she threw down with an Amazon while defending me.
“Fine. But I’ll be back.”
“Yes, Austen. Go get my husband,” Rowena taunts. “But take your time. Ms. Chahal and I have things to discuss.”
“I’d prefer it if you called me Mrs. Wayne, thank you. But if you want to discuss the custody hearing, I’m afraid you’ll have to speak to our lawyers.”
She waves a gloved hand in my direction as if swatting a bug. “Do you know the first time I spent Thanksgiving with Foster and Cassandra Wayne, I thought I’d died and gone to happy family heaven? My mother was too busy at the bar drinking herself to an early grave, so I ate this up with a spoon.” She made a face. “It is like ice cream though, isn’t it? This family? Too much and it can make you sick to your stomach. It doesn’t even come in other flavors. Just vanilla day after day, week after week.”
I’d started feeling sorry for her, but now she’s insulting this family. My family. “If you wanted to see the boys for Thanksgiving, you just had to call. I’m sure Emerson would have made it happen.”