Page 103 of Cozen

Who knew?

Cozen couldn’t really afford the kind of issues Sargon made for her in the grand scheme of the plans. It was one thing for her mind to know that, though. It was an entirely different matter for her heart to get with the plan, too.

She hadn’t seen him in weeks.

Two, actually.

Since that morning he delivered her to breakfast with Jett after spending the night with her. She hadn’t even gotten a glimpse of him, although she still did occasionally feel like someone was watching her.

Him, specifically.

“Could we order?”

The question drew Cozen out of her thoughts to find a familiar man standing next to the bar with his red-headed wife.

Silas Griffin.

Jett’s oldest son.

As for the woman, Marsha was her name. Cozen met her all but once in passing at the mansion, and it was only from afar. They hadn’t spoken to each other, and it was Jett who explained that Marsha was his daughter-in-law.

“Silas,” Cozen greeted, “and Marsha. Hey, what can I get for you two tonight?”

“Where’s Marissa?” Marsha asked.

Oh, Jesus.

The woman sounded like a whistling nasal cavity when she spoke. She was pretty, sure, but the voice was terrible.

“She wasn’t feeling well,” Cozen explained, “so I am manning—so to speak—the bar tonight. I can make all kinds of drinks, just not The Kingdom’s specialty menu. So, what can I get for you two?”

Silas’s blue gaze drifted over Cozen in a way that felt cold. As though he were simply about to dismiss her with nothing more than a look. He was a handsome young man—in his late twenties, at least. She could see his father’s features reflecting back in a younger version of Jett.

This man, however, did not treat her like his father did.

Silas wasn’t fond of Cozen, and hadn’t made a secret of his dislike during their brief encounters. Oh, sure, he was respectful, but that was just about all he was willing to offer her. He didn’t go out of his way to be nice, or even particularly polite.

He likely thought she was some gold digging woman after his father’s money. It had only been less than a year since his mother passed on, too.

Shit, Cozen was younger than Silas. He was likely taking that little factor into account when it came to his feelings about her, too.

No doubt, it was awkward for him.

She didn’t care.

She was here for a ring.

Not Jett’s money.

Not his life.

Not his heart.

“She’s certainly pretty enough, isn’t she?” Silas asked his wife. “I can see why Dad thinks she’ll fit right in with everyone else.”

“Well, at least she won’t need a dozen surgeries like all the other wives,” Marsha muttered.

Cozen straightened on the spot. “She is right here.”