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I stopped dead in my tracks. “Who is it?”
“She said she’s your stepmother.”
“It’s me, Lydia!” She hollered. “Get your ass down here, this idiot’s trying to throw me out! I’m going to sue him and everyone else if he doesn’t shut his yap and get out of my way!”
“Hold on, I’ll be right down!”Fuck!I quickly hid the test under the sink and ran downstairs. Lydia had a short fuse. I had no doubt she would try to shut the guard’s yap or die trying. I rushed to the bottom of the stairs and found two of the guards facing off with my step-monster. The men were stone-faced, but Lydia’s cheeks were flushed, her hands curled into fists. Her orange-y hair was slicked back into a bun, and her shorts revealed her newest tattoo, the giant face of a lion.
“Hey guys—that’s my stepmother. She’s fine.” ‘Fine’ wasn’t an accurate description, but I still waved them away.
I motioned for Lydia to follow me into the living room. Once we were alone, I whirled on her. “What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed.
“Checking on my one-and-only step-daughter.” Her voice was too loud. Everything about her was too much; I had to squint at her to soften my view of her orangey-blond hair and smoker’s lines. “You haven’t been in touch, Chloe. I thought we had a deal.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I thought you and Dad were happy with the money we gave you. Dad signed the agreement—I thought we were done with it.”
“Well, turns out we’re not quite done just yet.” She smiled, revealing newly whitened teeth. “I need more from you and your husband.”
“Lydia.” I shook my head. “We’ve already given you a ton of money. There isn’t any more.”
“Ha!” Her laughter quickly turned to a phlegmy cough. “How can you say that with a straight face? Look at this place! I saw on one of those real-estate apps that it’s worth twenty million bucks—and this is just one of your husband’s houses!”
I took a deep breath. My stepmother’s greed knew no bounds. First came the tattoo, then the whitened teeth. Next was probably the facelift and the condo, not to mention a lifetime supply of cigarettes and liquor. Who the hell knew what else she wanted?
“I have to tell you, it took some time for me and your father to figure it out. We thought the older guy would be the biggest payout. But it turns out there’swaymore money to be made than just that old cocksucker. Heisa whiny little bitch, isn’t he?”
I refused to agree with her. But deep down, I knew she was right: Gene Windsor really was a little bitch.
“What’s happening with him? How much money did he give you?”
She snorted. “He was all talk at first—real promising. But then he’s only coughed up half-a-mill, not really enough to make it worthwhile for us to keep our mouths shut about you.”
“Between that and the money we’ve given you, you’rerich. You should be happy—”
“Don’t tell me what I should be!” She flopped down onto the nearest couch and whipped out a pack of cigarettes. Lydia lit up without asking permission, exhaling a dirty cloud above her head. The smoke was woefully out of place in the pristine living room, but then again, so was Lydia. “I’m the one tellingyou. You should listen, not talk.”
She took another deep drag off her cigarette and blew out a toxic cloud. My step-monster was taking her time, enjoying herself.
That made one of us.
I sank down onto a nearby chair. “What do you want, Lydia?”
“We want more. Your father and I deservemore. We took you and your brother in when your mom died, even though we didn’t have the space, and you were always ungrateful. But we did our best.” Lydia straightened her shoulders defiantly.
“Now you’re all rich and fancy,” she continued, “and you think your shit doesn’t stink. But it does, let me tell you. And plenty of people out there think it stinks, too. So you’re going to pay up. Otherwise, I’ll do what these rich people are asking me to.”
“What are they asking you to do?”
“Well, that depends.” She exhaled another cloud of smoke, and I wished a lightning bolt would shoot out of it and crack her straight in the head. But alas, she just kept talking. “Mr. Windsor wanted us to sit tight and hold off on filing anything for your brother and not go to the press. But this other lady wants us to go public about your background, do interviews, and all sorts of stuff. And she’d been paying pretty good. But I figured that since you were married to the richest dude of them all—and he’s seemed pretty dead-set against us talking—he might want to outbid her. After all, it’s his pretty little wife she’s talking about.”
She flicked some ash onto the floor. “She’s saying you’re a hooker, can you believe it? And here you are, sitting all high and mighty in that dress. Like I said, Chlo, your shit absolutely stinks. Doesn’t matter if you’re spraying Chanel perfume all over it. A hooker is a hooker. Your father couldn’t believethatone, but I told him it’s always the quiet ones you gotta watch out for!” She laugh-coughed again, thoroughly amused by herself.
“Who is the woman who’s paying you?” But I already knew.
“Some rich cunt from Maine. You beat up her daughter.” Lydia’s features twisted. “Mimi something-or-other?”
I nodded. “Mimi Jones. You’re right that she’s rich—but you’re also right that we’re richer.”
“Good.” Lydia took another big drag. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Chlo. I’m sure that handsome husband of yours doesn’t want the world to know he married a skank.”
