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Laughing, I retort, “I believe your exact words were, ‘My suitcases are packed, and the movers are here. Just let me know when you’re ready.’’’
“You hehe, like you don’t know I’m serious.”
“That’s exactly what makes it even funnier,” I chuckle when my phone vibrates.
It lights up with three message notifications
GW: Afternoon Ry! I have a few things I want to discuss with you.
GW: Can you meet me in my office, please?
“Oh, hold on,” I tell Shay as I type out my reply to Mrs. Edgewood. “It’s Wes’s mom. Let me just shoot off a quick text.”
Me: Afternoon! ??
Me: Sure, I’m with Shay. Give me five, and I’ll be right down.
“Everything okay?” Shay asks when I stand, sliding my cell back into my pocket.
“Yeah. She wants to talk to me. It probably has something to do with Aidan’s and Zoey’s birth announcement party,” I answer, rising from the couch. “I shouldn’t be very long if you want to wait.”
Yet another weird Fraternitas tradition. Most people make a birthing announcement and are done with it. Not the Fraternitas. They make stupid rules about presenting any firstborn Heirs to society.
She nods. “I’m going to watch my niece and nephew to make sure I can see them breathing.”
“Shay,” I start but think better of it. The woman will only argue that Zoey and Aidan’s chests don’t move enough for her. Shaking my head, I head downstairs.
The conversation about the twin’s announcement ceremony reminds me of my fight with the Council. Initially, they said firstborn son, but I told them to shove it. It was both or none.
After three weeks of back and forth, the Council suddenly relented. I might’ve considered it a surprise, but I think I have an idea as to why. However, the fact that the Council wasn’t willing to budge until someone intervened still annoys me.
I’m in front of Wes’s mother’s office when I force myself to let it go temporarily.
“Ariah,” Wes’s mother greets, wrapping me in her embrace. The light floral notes of her perfume fill my nose, and I sink into her hug. “Come sit,” she instructs, releasing me.
Another upside to living on the estate is spending time with all the guys’ moms. At least one of them stops by daily, and we have lunch together once a week.
I sit, waiting for her to take her seat before greeting her. “Mrs. Edge?—”
“Guliana. Please,” she requests as always. “We’re family. Save the mister and misses for the stuffy old suits.”
I smile. She’s always so welcoming, much like the other guys’ moms. “Guliana,” I correct.
“How are you?” she inquires. “Are my boys treating you and my lovely grand babies well?”
My face lights up at the mention of the guys and the twins. The guys. . . the guys have been amazing. Getting to watch them spend time with our babies is ovary melting. Not enough to want to have any more babies any time soon.
“Yes, we’ve found our groove. We finally were able to get the twins on a sleep schedule. At least until they tag-team us and change it around again,” I joke, making her smile.
“I’m so glad to see you happy, Ariah. You deserve it in spades. I’m only sorry that it was at a great cost to you.”
Guliana flicks a switch before opening the folder on her desk. I see the checklist we’ve been reviewing for the reception—every detail down to the napkin rings.
“Did we miss something?” I ask, pointing to the small stack of papers.
I watch as Guliana examines the list, flipping to what she’s looking for, and stops. She studies the document for a moment longer before gazing at me.
“No, everything is as it should be. Whitley, our event manager for the estate, has been provided with clear objectives. The reception will be in the spring. Once that happens, Zoey will be the first female Heir now that the edicts have been revised.”
