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“Yeah. Stuff like that. For starters.”
“And you couldn’t have squeezed in a quick fitting? I made you an appointment.”
I’d started wandering around the room and her eyes followed me, on guard. There were no beds in here, just a bunch of lounge chairs laid out in the sun under the big windows, and a shower, a mini bar. I glanced out the windows where her cousins, the twins, were on their lounge chairs, tossing the occasional look in this direction. But there was no way they could hear us over the music out there. They couldn’t see us, either, with the sun glaring off the windows.
“What was the deal last night anyway?” I asked her. “You were just gonna watch us screw?”
“I was not!” she spluttered.
“I think you were.”
I mean, we didn’t screw. After the interruption, kinda lost momentum. Ended up sending her off in a cab and smoking cigars on the patio with Joss and Darcy for half the night, then passing out in my old room. It was a gift wrapping room for Margot now. Because apparently she needed a whole room for that.
At least there was a decent couch.
“No. I went outside to get some air,” Jolie seethed, “and had my eyeballs assaulted with a public exposure tableau.”
“And stopped to watch.”
“You stopped to watchme.”
“I wasn’t watching anything. Except you falling on your ass.”
“Sometimes I’m clumsy!”
“I noticed.”
She pressed her hand to her forehead like she was accessing a reset button. “Do you support this wedding or not?”
“Maybe I haven’t decided yet.”
“You haven’t decided yet?” she parroted back, incredulous.
“That’s what I said.”
“Well, when are you planning on deciding? You’re in the freakin’ wedding party. At least, your dad and my mom seem to think you are. And the big day is four weeks away.”
“Thank you for that math. We swamp trolls don’t run on a calendar system. We just crawl up out of the swamp to eat virgins at the full moon.”
She took another deep breath, then blew it out angrily. “Okay, it’s pretty clear by your attitude that you hate me. In case you thought you had to be any meaner to get the point across, I promise, you’ve made your point. This isn’t aboutme, though. I’m not personally inviting you to this wedding because I actually want you to be there. I just care about Mom and Jacob. I told Mom I’d help them with this wedding. And you told me that you would get a motherfucking suit fitting.”
I shrugged. Her seething anger just made me settle into my cool and calm. “Why bother getting a suit fitting for a wedding I don’t know if I’m going to.”
“Are you mentally deranged? Is that it?”
“I do get hit in the head a lot.”
“How can you not know if you’re going? You either support the wedding or you don’t. If you don’t, then why not just say so? Talk to Jacob. Better yet, why didn’t you talk to him long ago? Because it’s way too late now. He’s marrying my mom. Like, what is the problem you have with her?”
“I never said I had a problem with Margot.”
“Well…good.”
“She is extremely stuck up, though.” I wandered around the room again. “Brandon seems to think she’s a gold digger.”
She made an annoyed sound. “From what I hear, Brandon thought every woman who ever came near your dad over the years was a gold digger.”
“That is true.”
