Page 38 of How to Kill Your Rival

‘Fraser got his arse whooped by an OAP,’ James says.

‘Marco?’ Priscilla says.

‘Who else?’ I heap jam onto my toast. I need the sugar hit.

‘I don’t know him, but his reputation precedes him around here,’ Priscilla says.

James tries to catch my eye, but I focus solely on my breakfast. It’s not that I don’t enjoy knowing he pines for me. I very much do. It’s just that I need him to wait until things are settled. The last thing I need is to give the Death Council more fuel. And the last thing Dad needs is to suspect his new step-son wants to bang his daughter.

Priscilla sighs over her tea. ‘I’ve been thinking.’

The tremor in her voice has all three of us focusing on her.

‘With Evan’s appointments and everything that’s happening, I think I should cancel my birthday party. It seems like rather a lot of⁠—’

‘No,’ James and I say at the same time.

‘You’re not cancelling,’ I say. ‘You’ve been so looking forward to it.’

‘Eliza—’

‘You’ve managed everything without complaining once,’ I say. ‘Not when Maggie accused you of trying to poison Dad. Not when you’ve stayed up with him yourself to see him through a bad post-chemo session. You’ve handled the appointments and the medication and done it all in a way that doesn’t make Dad feel like a burden. You deserve to be celebrated.’

Priscilla’s eyes glisten.

‘Mum, if the planning is too much, we can help.’ James reaches across the table and squeezes her hand, nearly upending the pepper grinder as he does.

‘You two are far too busy to be worrying about that.’ Priscilla gives his fingers a gentle squeeze. ‘Plus, we’ll have Maggie and Roman’s wedding to sort out.’

‘She has it all sorted, don’t worry about that. It won’t affect your party,’ I say.

‘I’ll do it,’ Fraser pipes up from his end of the table.

We all look over at him, and I’m pretty sure my face says exactly what I’m thinking. You?

Fraser peels an orange. ‘I don’t have a lot on at the moment.’

‘You don’t know the first thing about arranging a party,’ I say.

‘Not as far as you’re aware… no.’

‘What does that mean?’ I ask.

Fraser looks up to the ancient taxidermy stag high on the wall. The one that once had a bra hanging from it for nearly a week until we could figure out how to get it down. Everyone claimed innocence, of course.

‘You did that?’ I say with a laugh as Fraser’s cheeks pinken.

‘Did what?’ James asks, confusion knitting his brow.

‘A few years ago, Old Mr Pepper up there.’ I point to the ancient stag’s head. ‘He found himself with a lingerie mask for a week. Dad blamed me, but I hadn’t been home. I think Fraser is finally claiming culpability.’

‘Well, I’m not sure if I want underwear throwing,’ Priscilla says with a soft smile. ‘But if you’re sure.’

‘I’m sure,’ Fraser says.

‘Oh, good. It means I can focus on your dad. Jerry and Evangeline are flying over with Vivienne, too. It would have been awful to cancel them, seeing as it’s been years since the last time we saw them.’

‘Who are they?’ I ask. James’ face flushes, which piques my interest.