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She was not the one who should be angry.
It should be me.
And seeing her so damned pissed, I was.
“I’m here, herr kommandant,” she declared, clicking her heels and saluting. “As ordered.”
“I’ll just leave you to it,” Ian murmured, turned his head, caught my eyes and finished, “Good luck.”
Sadly, Portia didn’t let him get away unscathed.
As he shifted to squeeze past her when she didn’t get out of his way, she snapped, “Does she taste better than me?”
Ian stopped dead and looked down his nose at her.
“I don’t know yet, petal,” he said dangerously. “But I’m a betting man, and I’d let it ride the answer to that is yes.”
Portia looked like he’d slapped her.
A reaction of her own making.
Ian disappeared into the hall.
Portia turned on me.
“Not another word,” I warned.
“Or what? You’ll take away all my money?”
“Dad’s money.”
She jackknifed my way. “My money.”
Enough.
“Girl, you didn’t earn a dime of that, so keep those words out of your goddamned mouth,” I bit.
Her face colored and she bit back. “What are you doing with Ian?”
“What do you care?”
She looked flummoxed for a second, which I found strange, and then she said, “He’s my boyfriend’s brother.”
“And you dated him.”
“He told you?”
“If he didn’t, you just did with your ill-advised comment. Obviously, in the short time you were with him, you didn’t learn as easy prey not to toy with the apex predator.”
And again, she looked like she’d been slapped. “Easy? You did not just say that to me.”
“I did, Portia. Good God, what did you think would happen when you left me and Lou in this house? That the Alcotts would eat us alive? I didn’t spend the time you were away cowering in my room.”
“What I didn’t think was that in, oh, I don’t know…a day, my sister would be fucking my ex-boyfriend.”
“Was he your boyfriend?”
More color stained her cheeks.
