“Please don’t make me defend the male species again,” Abigail muttered. “It depletes my soul.” But she cocked her head. “Wait. I don’t have to.”
“Why?” Mom asked.
Jules twisted her fingers in her lap. “Please don’t fuel her.”
“You share, or I share.” Abigail grinned. “I could send out an update in the family group chat. What GIF would I use?”
More curious than he’d ever been before, Dad asked, “Share what?”
Jules slugged back her wine. “I hate you.”
“Rhys disproved her theory,” Abigail explained with a hefty dose of sisterly side-eye. There would be consequences one day. Jules would make sure to somehow work Abigail’s sex life into family dinners. If only she knew anything about the women she dated.
“I’ve seen the pictures of you and Rhys.” Mom tried to hide her smile behind the rim of her wineglass. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
Dad tossed his napkin with a grimace. “This is a conversation for just the girls. I’m going to show Wes my new driver.”
What Jules wouldn’t give to hear her dad continue the conversation about his swing again.
“I told Olivia she could come over.” Mom swatted Dad back into his chair. “Clear the air, and if you never want to speak to her again, then so be it.”
“You know the cops think Mason burned down my house, right? In what world was that a good idea?”
“Mason didn’t burn down your house,” Mom scoffed.
“No kidding. It was Tabitha.”
Mom set down her wineglass. “Abigail Vanessa Lowry, watch yourself.”
Abigail tossed her hands up in surrender as Wes opened the patio door. “Were you expecting Olivia?”
Jules let out a deep breath. “I’ll go talk to her.”
She found Olivia perched on the couch of the formal living room. Olivia had been here dozens of times, and never had they set foot in this room. Mostly unused, the space served as an area for business meetings.
Olivia bounced onto her toes. Her flowy shirt hid the baby bump she and Mason had plastered all over the internet. Not that Jules had googled it or anything. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
They stood awkwardly. Jules had no idea what she should say. “Congratulations—” She winced. “Really. That wasn’t snark.”
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know—”
Jules waved the apology away. She didn’t want it and probably wouldn’t believe it. The only thing she wondered was how much Mason had told her about their arrangement. Was that why Olivia was here?
“I didn’t mean to get pregnant,” Olivia said. “I don’t think I meant to fall—”
“Honestly, I don’t want to hear it.”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
God, Olivia looked heartbroken, and that, juxtaposed against Jules’s total lack of romantic feelings for Mason, made herstomach roil. But also, it indicated Mason hadn’t broken their agreement and told Olivia about the arranged marriage. “Why are you here?”
“Mason didn’t burn down your house.”
“I know,” she said before thinking. But that was the truth. No matter what the cops said, she wouldn’t believe it. With Jordan Everett, she hadn’t wanted to believe it, but Jordan had quickly proven she was entirely wrong. Mason hadn’t proved anything other than that he was angry about losing out on their business agreement. Burning down her house didn’t do anything to fix that, and as Jules looked at Olivia, she knew in her heart that he hadn’t facilitated anything that had happened on St. Barts. “The cops think so, but I don’t.”
“Sometimes, I think everything that happens in your lives is for ratings and attention. I saw it with you, and now with him, it’s just… I just wanted to apologize. You were one of my best friends, and I fell for your guy.”
