“Still,” I agree.
“It’s very…” She searches for the word. “Youthful. You’re aging out of that sort of thing, no?”
It’s par for the course from my mother, this insult merely her opening volley. I’m used to it. This is exactly what I’ve been bracing myself for. I feel Slade shift slightly beside me. Still quiet. Still watching.
“Who is this?” Peter asks. His beady eyes focus on Slade.
“This is Slade Rhodes,” I say. “My fiancé.”
Chapter 15
Barrel of Scorpions
LILA
Silence.
Peter’s face goes totally blank. Celia refills her wine glass. My father removes his reading glasses slowly and sets them on the desk.
My mother, literally clutching her pearls, speaks first. “Yourwhat?”
“We’re getting married,” I say. “That’s why I called. I wanted to invite you to the wedding.”
More silence. I resist the urge to fill it, taking my cue from Slade’s careful quiet. I can already tell he uses it as a power move, letting everyone chatter while he waits to strike.
I’m aware of every inch of him. The stillness of him. He doesn’t shift or fidget, just remains a solid, steady, immovable support behind me.
Then Peter: “When did you meet?”
“September.”
“It’s the beginning of October,” he says.
“Yes, that is how time works,” I say pleasantly.
“Lila.” His voice drops into something that wants to sound like concern and doesn’t quite make it. “That’s extremely fast. Under the circumstances?—”
“What circumstances?” Slade says. It’s the first time he’s spoken. There’s an edge to his tone. He’s making no attempt at ingratiating himself to my family, which doesn’t surprise me.
I appreciate it.
He doesn’t come from the circles that would care about the Sherwood family name, and something tells me that even if he did, it wouldn’t intimidate him.
“The financial circumstances,” Peter says, already sounding annoyed. “I’m sure you’re aware there’s a trust involved.”
Slade’s eyes harden. “Might be a difficult concept for you to understand, but I’ve made money of my own. I don’t need anybody’s trust fund.”
Peter’s rears back, not used to being spoken to so directly. “I wasn’t implying anything about your finances.”
“Sure you were.” Slade cracks his knuckles. “It’s fine. I’d be suspicious too, in your position. Of course, my concern would befor my sister.”
Peter’s face goes red. Celia sets her wine glass down.
“Lila,” she says, with that smooth, contemptuous certainty she’s had since we were children. “Nobody is saying it isn’t lovely that you’ve found someone. Unlikely as it ever seemed that you would land a husband.”
My fingernails curl into my palm. She learned all her little cutting comments from the best, a.k.a. our mother, and she’s never hesitated to sharpen her claws on me.
“But let’s be honest with each other,” she continues. “The timing is…”
