Page 162 of My Husband Problem

She blows him a kiss.

He looks at us again. “So I was, of course, prepared to accept there would be no O’Grady-Olsen baby, but I amthrilledwith the news of the pregnancy!”

There are gasps all around the room, and Astrid and I look at each other withwhat the helllooks.

She shakes her head. “Definitely not,” she assures me.

I look at my grandfather. “Wait, whose pregnancy?”

Maybe he’s talking about someone?—

“Astrid, of course.”

The room gasps again.

Astrid shakes her head. “No, I’m not, Your Majesty. I promise you.”

“The podcast specifically said they heard it from Rebel.”

Again, a few people in the room gasp. Cian is the loudest, though, and I know he’s doing it to be funny.

I turn to them. “Stop it. Astrid is not pregnant.”

There are disappointed looks, but Nora nods and says, “That makes more sense. Since you just…” She shakes her head when she realizes what she’s saying. “Never mind.”

“Maybe it’s bayou voodoo,” my grandfather says.

“Excuse me?” Astrid asks.

“Maybe there’s something on the bayou that helps them know before you even do.”

“What are you talking about?” she asks, clearly flummoxed.

“The podcast was saying that the website said—I haven’t looked at it this morning since you all were coming in—that people in town were saying that this past week you were eating a lot of shrimp, particularly flavors that you’ve never eaten before, and ordering a lot of milkshakes in the span of just a few days.”

“That was a competition I was judging and—” She cuts herself off and looks at me. She shakes her head. “It’s not worth it, is it? I mean those things are true.”

Cian is the only one who gasps this time. I roll my eyes at him. He just grins.

I look at Linnea. “Are yousurewe can’t revisit the idea of at least blocking some websites? Or maybe getting the podcast taken off the air?”

“You arenotblocking him from anything.”

This comes from my grandmother. She sets her teacup down and gives me a disapproving look. “He has thirty active aliases online and simplymustsign in and do his work every day.”

I look from her to him and back. “Your work?”

“I troll people,” my grandfather says with a grin.

“You…” I look over at Torin, then Linnea.

They both shrug.

“Youtrollpeople?”

“He actually baits them,” Linnea says. “He gets into debates with them about real topics, with real information, and his goal is to get them to admit things they’re trying to hide to use as proof against them.”

I look at him with alarm. “Why?”