It’s after another dinner. Another date that, if you asked her, she would staunchly deny that that was what it was. I just tell her where I want to take her, and she goes, as though she’s following one of the clauses in her contract.
She has to have that sucker memorized. Considering I stole it from her apartment about a week after our wedding, the way she keeps casually dropping clauses and sections into conversation… yup. She either has another copy or has it memorized, but she hasn’t said anything about the signed copy being missing yet.
She hasn’t said anything about the scent of my cologne in her bed, either, so maybe my dear wife is just that oblivious.
Could be. She’s sure as hell doing everything she can to convince herself that sheisn’tmy wife.
Of course, that’s why I’m doing everything to prove her wrong. Including taking her out for dinner, and before I drive her back to her place—then wait until she’s sleeping to let myself in—inviting her into my living room so that I could talk to her about something.
I don’t beat around the bush. Once we’re back in my living room, I wait for Annaliese to fold her skirt under her and sit down before I metaphorically pounce.
“So… why don’t you work as an event planner anymore?” I ask casually, leaning into my seat.
Her shoulders tense like I slapped her. Whoops. She definitely wasn’t expecting me to ask her that.
I wait, hoping that I made the right decision by bringing this up.
“I loved my job, but I had to leave it,” she says softly. “And then when I was told that I would be demoted to one of the Used, it made no sense to return to the field. I mean, who would hire me then?”
I would. And I plan to. But first… this is the moment I’ve been waiting for. The opening I would be a fool not to take.
“Annaliese… who hurt you?”
I just want the fucker’s name. That’s all.
But she shakes her head, looking anywhere but at me. “I can’t. Sebastien… please. I don’t want to talk about that.”
No. She doesn’t want to talk abouthim.
Smart. If I ever find out who broke Annaliese before I ever met her, I’d borrow Adrian’s Tomcat and pump a pair of bullets into his skull.
I plan on it. One day, I’ll get the chance. For now, I let it go.
She needs me to.
“Okay, but you’re not one of the Used now. You’re the wife of an Owed. I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t start your own event planning service now.”
“What… really?”
“Yeah. You did an amazing job when it came to our wedding. Look, I want to throw a party for my brother.”
Interested in spite of herself, Annaliese asks, “When’s his birthday?”
“September,” I answer. “He turned thirty last year, but I want this part to be soon, like a belated celebration.”
Alexandre didn’t want to throw a party last year because of what that age means in the Order. He can still Claim someone—especially since Dallas gave him a year reprieve due to canceling last August’s Claiming ceremony— but now that I’m married, he doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to.
I love Alex. Despite him being the golden boy in the Reynolds family, he’s my brother, too, and I think celebrating him… showing him that he doesn’t have to fear being thirty… would be good for him. Plus, it gives my wife something to do.
Way I see it, it’s a win-win all around.
“What do you think? Throw Alex a party, then I bet everyone in Harmony Heights will want to hire you for their next shindig. But, please, block off the June after this one for Adrian. He’ll have my head if you can’t help him celebrate his wife whensheturns thirty.”
Annalise offers me a small, almost shy smile. “I liked Loni. She was very nice to me… and Adrian is?—”
I decide to throw her a bone. “Devoted to his wife,” I supply for mine.
Her expression turns wistful.
