Honey? She’s adorable. “Absolutely, babe.”
Tiffany rolls her eyes and pushes away from the table, mumbling to herself. “Sweetness and cellulite.”
I wait until Gran takes the dirty dishes to the kitchen before I intervene. “Tiffany.”
Tiffany looks my way.
“What?” she snaps.
I rise to my full height and stalk over to her. She shrinks back a little, her eyes flitting over to Rawley, who’s so engrossed in his phone, flipping through Tinder Twat that he doesn’t even look up.
I shove my hands in my pocket, adopting a feigned air of nonchalance.
“Oh, nothing. Just a warning.”
Her eyes flash at me. “Warning? Like back when we used to play those games and you’d warn me I was getting” —she makes air quotes with her finger— “punished?” We never went that far, but I hate that she’s brought this up in front of Katie.
I shake my head. “I don’t appreciate the way you’re treating Katie. You don’t have to be her best friend, but I won’t let you bully her, and I won’t allow you to be cruel. I want you to remember something.”
“What’s that?” she throws back, glaring.
“I’m the one who owns this house. And I can escort you off the property any time I want.”
She rolls her eyes.
“And furthermore?” I lower my voice. “I know secrets about you no one else here knows. No one.”
Her eyes widen. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would.”
Her boobs are fake, her cheeks and lips are fillers, and she’s had a tummy tuck. None of which matter to me, but she sure as hell likes to pretend that her perfect figure is real, using her facade to body shame other women, natural beauties like my curvy Katie Kat.
And if that’s not enough, she faked half of the entries for the pageants she won, relying on her parents currying the favor of the judges beforehand.
Among other things.
She opens her mouth, then slams it shut and huffs away, marching over to Rawley.
“Let’s go,” she says.
“To get the cake?” he says. He rises and stretches, then reaches for her, but she stomps off furiously. He looks at me in consternation, but I only shrug.
Off they go, and I turn to find Katie staring at me, an unreadable expression on her face. Weird. I thought she’d be happy I just took Tiffany down a peg or two. I sure as hell am.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says softly. “Just going to… go work on my book for a bit before the party preparations are in full swing.”
But she’s getting up from the table and not meeting my eyes.
“Katie.”
My voice is a little harsher than I intend. She looks up at me sharply.
“What?”
“Come here.”
She purses her lips and frowns. “I have work to do,” she says, turning away from me.
Walk away from me? Not happening.
“Do not walk away from me, little girl.”
She freezes, her back to me, then glances over her shoulder. “Or what?” Is that my imagination, or is there hurt in those beautiful eyes of hers. “You’ll punish me? Just like you do with all the girls you’ve dated?”
Ahhh. Bingo.
Gran comes shuffling in the room with a broom. “Give me a hand, Katie?”
I take the broom from Gran. “Katie and I will be right back, and when we return, we’ll do anything you need us to. We just need to have a little talk first.”
I reach for Katie’s hand, but she pulls away. She takes the broom.
“I can sweep the room first.”
“You will not.” I take it out of her hand and place it up against the wall. Gran watches the two of us curiously.
“Hmm,” she says, smirking. “Darius has never been a very patient man.” She takes the broom back. “You two go have your talk and I’ll see you in a few.”
“Perfect idea.” I take Katie by the elbow as Gran trots upstairs.
“Gonna take me to the woodshed?” Katie asks between gritted teeth. “Wouldn’t that just float your kinky boat? Hmm?”
This little girl is going to end up over my lap before she knows it.
I tighten my grip and walk her out toward the kitchen and down the steps. She doesn’t protest, though her lips are thinned, and her eyes are narrowed. I get her all the way to the barn before I let her go. I point my finger to a bale of hay.
“Sit.”
She flounces down but obeys.
I put my hands on my hips and give her a good, hard look. To her credit, she looks mildly abashed. “Now what the hell came over you?”
“I heard what she said,” Katie says in a small voice. There’s a catch in her voice. “And I can’t stand being in the same room with her.”
Is she… jealous? Could it be?
“What did she say that you heard?” I suspect I know what, but I want to hear her say it.
Katie sticks her lower lip out and pouts.