can see we’ll get along just fine.” She laughs. It’s a charming laugh. Soft, feminine, and charming. The witch.
She sits in the chair on the opposite side of the desk, sets her briefcase on the floor, pushes the cup of coffee toward me, folds her hands together in her lap, and takes me in.
I mean she really looks at me.
And I look at her enormous ruby and diamond ring.
My voice choked, I say, “You’re married.”
“I am.”
I close my eyes, draw in a deep breath, and curse the day I decided to raid that fucking diaper warehouse.
She says, “I’m also your attorney, in case you’re wondering.”
My eyelids fly open. I stare at her. I never truly understood the word “flabbergasted” until right now.
She knits her brows together. Her eyes are a stunning shade of pale green, like sea glass. She says, “Don’t look so surprised. Just because I’m from a tiny shithole town in Texas doesn’t mean I can’t argue the law. I’ll have you know I passed the bar on my first try.”
I want to burst out laughing. I also want a flamethrower. “How long have you been married?”
She beams, twisting her wedding ring with her thumb. “Seven months now. We went to the Civil Registry Office the same day we found out we were pregnant.”
“So we’re not pregnant.” I remember Killian’s disappointed tone that night he broke into my bedroom and want to retch.
Tru glances up at me. Her eyes are as soft as her voice. “We’re having a girl. We’re going to name her Maribel, after my mama.”
I almost break down and cry then. Almost. I feel the pressure behind my eyes, the sting and the pressure. But I refuse to make more of a fool out of myself than I already have, so I jump to my feet and start pacing.
After a few turns back and forth, I stop and glare at her accusingly. “So, what? He’s a bigamist in addition to being a huge asshole and a gigantic liar?”
She blinks.
I press my advantage. “Are you part of a cult? Some nutjob religious group that brainwashes women into becoming sister wives, some bullshit like that?”
She looks to her left, then her right, like she has no idea what’s happening and hopes someone will burst in and save her from the crazy woman. “Um…”
I scoff. “Don’t play coy with me. He sent you in here. You know exactly who I am.”
“Yes,” she says carefully. “And I’ve heard such nice things about you.”
I throw my hands in the air and shout, “And you’re okay with it? Jesus!”
“I’m sorry…okay with what?”
My laugh is dark and scarier than the eyes of the cop who put me in here. “Oh, you’re screwed up, lady. You need help.”
She frowns at me, sits up straight in her chair, and snaps, “Actually, you’re the one who needs help. And I’m here to give it. At four o’clock in the morning, no less. And I do not appreciate the snark, or the attitude, or whatever the heck it is you’re trying to insinuate.”
Instead of tearing all her hair out of her head like I want to, I fold my arms over my chest and stare at her, breathing hard. “I bet he tells you that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, right?”
She says through a tight jaw, “As a matter of fact, he does.”
Bastard. If I ever see him again, I’ll pluck out all his pubic hair one by one with tweezers, then stuff it up his nose and light it on fire.
“And I bet he gives you lavish gifts. Ridiculously expensive gifts. Jewelry you can’t even wear in public because you’d get mugged in ten seconds flat.”
She stares at me. Her sea glass eyes are as hard as flint.
I say sarcastically, “Yeah. He’s great that way. Sooo generous. Sooo romantic. And what about Shakespeare? I bet he blows that Shakespeare smoke right up your ass, too, doesn’t he?”
She cocks her head.
“No? Oh, am I the only special one?” I laugh. I sound unhinged, like I’ve been mainlining cocaine.
She says, “Hold on a second—”
“And how about those accents, huh?” I cackle. “Oh, god! The Chris Hemsworth is totally my favorite! I mean, James Bond is a close second, but sweet baby Jesus, that Australian accent is the bomb, right? I bet he used that one on you the night he got you pregnant.”
All my hysterical laughter dies in my throat. I suck in a breath. It comes out as a broken sob.