“Yes.”
I look down at the grand bouquet in my arms. Damn it. Now what?
Why can’t you even pick the right kind of flowers, Ailee? I swear I raised you and your sister the same, but you’re such a failure,comes Mom’s voice in my head. I bite my lower lip, suddenly feeling ridiculous for thinking I could make his family feel disappointed when our engagement ends. Then I remember what Josh said earlier and decide to shake it off, trying to imagine how he’d view the situation.If he thought I’d selected something inappropriate, he would’ve said so.There are no right or wrong flowers. Being considerate isn’t something to be mocked.
Josh’s chuckle jerks me out of my thoughts. “Don’t worry,” he says. “She’ll find a way to use them.”
“You think so? The roses are really…showy.”
“Akiko won’t keep the same design for long.” Josh puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in for a quick hug. “Trust me.”
My breath catches. When he holds me close and speaks in that steady tone, I feel like he’ll keep me safe even if the world burns down around us.
The dining room is even bigger than the foyer. I thought Josh’s was large, but this is even more massive, obviously built to entertain a crowd. I spot seven people. Prescott is in a well-fitted three-piece bespoke suit. Actually, every Huxley man seems to favor them. His presence is more imposing than a grouchy bear’s, although I’d never admit that. Unlike his sister, he’s considered the more solid and staid partner, but no less vicious when it’s necessary to win. He doesn’t smile often at the firm, and I wonder what he’s like here in his home. After all, the family motto isloyalty and unity, notsurly and snippy.
Jeremiah’s impossible to miss—that bright red hair and mouth and the black power suit that all scream death to anybody who gets in her way. I’ve seen large male associates stutter when she gazes at them with an arched eyebrow, the corners of her mouth twisting into a subtle sneer. A half-empty glass of red wine sits in front of her. She looks likesheowns the place. Wisps of smoke rise from the end of a lit cigar. Her eyes glitter with interest as she looks at me through the tendrils.
I smile, hoping she likes me. It isn’t always easy to tell. My interaction with her at the firm has been minimal, just like with Prescott. She’s always too busy to stop by and say hello to Josh. When she shows up for the firm’s Christmas parties, she’s surrounded by her favored associates, such as Barry.
My eyes drift to Bryce and Ares, also in suits, since it’s Friday and they probably billed till the last minute. Ares just made junior partner, and he’s busier than ever, according to his assistant. Lareina waves with a big smile. She’s adorable in a teal sundress. She drops her head on her husband’s shoulder with a blush, then whispers something to him. He smiles indulgently, and I blink. I’ve never seen Ares this relaxed and human before.
Bryce’s expression is mildly pinched and lonely. The chair next to him is empty, and he checks his phone for the third time.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
His expression clears as he turns to me. “Yeah, fine. Fiona can’t make it because the smell of the food bothers her.” He heaves a sigh. “But she wants you to know she misses you and wants to have another girls’ day out with you and Lareina.”
I nod, relaxing slightly. “That’d be great. Any time.”
At the head of the table is a black-haired woman with eyes as sharp as knives. She’s knotted her glossy mane into a bun at the base of her head, and her skin is pale and smooth, almost unnaturally wrinkle-free. Her dress is deep blue, which brings out her eyes.
Must be the grandmother. Although she didn’t work for long at Huxley & Webber, there are rumors about her there anyway—that Jeremiah got her ball-busting attitude from her mother. Guess it’s unavoidable that people will whisper behind your back when you’re the matriarch of the Huxleys.
“Catalina Huxley, my dear,” she says, introducing herself. Her eyes soften as she takes me in. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you,” I say, relaxing a little more. When she smiles the sharp edges vanish, making her appear approachable.
An Asian woman in a stunning purple-and-ivory kimono with luxurious plum blossom embroidery walks over. She’s maybe an inch or two shorter than me, and her eyes go warm when she smiles. Fresh white peonies adorn her updo.
“Welcome!” she says. Her beauty isn’t showy—it’s the kind that lasts regardless of age. “I’m Akiko. You’re Ailee, right?”
“Yes. Nice to meet you.” I manage a smile that I hope isn’t nervous. “For you.” I extend the roses.
Her eyes light up with genuine joy. “How lovely! I’ve been thinking about experimenting more with Western flowers recently, and these will be just the thing.”
She puts the bouquet on a side table and hugs me tightly. “Welcome to our home! I’m so glad Josh brought you. I’ve been dying to meet the final daughter-in-law. And find out who gave him the ‘heirloom’!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Josh
I do my best not to roll my eyes as Klein flushes. Of course Akiko wants to know.
Aunt Jeremiah’s eyes flash over the rim of her wine glass—she knows who the guilty one is. “Yeah, I’m wondering about that too. That asshole John Cocksucking McKinnon mocked my taste.”
I press my lips together, trying not to laugh. He’s the opposing counsel in a complex lawsuit she’s dealing with. She believes God created him to fuck with her because every good woman gets a devil to battle. She’s being polite by merely calling him “cocksucking.” I’ve seen her let go when she decides to be more blunt. “It’s a long story, but I misspoke,” I lie smoothly as I pull out a chair for Klein.
Aunt Jeremiah’s expression flickers with approval. Although she’s a modern woman, she appreciates little gestures of chivalry. Says they indicate manner and civilization. But that doesn’t mean she’ll let the video incident slide. “I don’t believe you. You aren’t under oath.”
