Fashionably Fooled (Hot Damned #13) - Robyn Peterman Page 0,39

herself not to laugh. She lost.

“First of all, I didn’t even know Dragons existed,” she began, still laughing. “Second, I’d highly suggest Mammy skip the soiree. That could be a shitshow waiting to happen. Vamps are serious about their hair.”

“Fine point. Well made,” I said. “Mammy will not be invited.”

“Great. And what kind of name is Mammy anyway?”

“No clue,” I replied with a shrug. “Her son is called Murry the badass. He’s been sniffing all the females in Hell.”

“There is so much wrong with that last sentence I don’t even know where to begin,” Astrid said, giving me a look. “Why is the bizarrely named Murry the badass sniffing all the female Demons in Hell?”

“Because one of them is trying to destroy my womb explosion day,” I hissed, running my hand through my hair in frustration.

“Eviction,” Astrid corrected me.

“That’s what I said.”

“Nope. You said explosion,” she said.

“Well, that would be a mess,” I muttered.

“Yep,” Astrid agreed. “The party is at eight. Five hundred will be in attendance. Will the Sins be done with their jail stint in Paris?”

“Yes.”

“That sucks,” Astrid said with a shudder. “Those girls are a hot mess. Not to mention, several of them tried to kill me.”

“It happens,” I said shrugging. “I spoiled them rotten, and they turned out dreadfully.”

“Where are their mothers?” Astrid inquired.

“Not a clue. I was unaware they were even pregnant until they dropped the little monsters on the doorstep of the palace.”

“That’s kind of weird. Did you have relationships with any of them?” she asked perplexed.

“I did not,” I replied. “Until Elle, I didn’t even know the meaning of the word. They were pleasurable dalliances that ended with me being stuck with the awful nightmares.”

“Mmmkay,” Astrid said, tucking the notebook into her Prada bag. “On that lovely note, I’m outta here. I’ll hire caterers. Fairies are good cooks according to Gemma. I’ll see if she can have her royal staff come down from Zanthia.”

“Astrid, is that you?” Elle called out from our bedroom.

“Yep,” Astrid yelled back. “I’m just leaving.”

“Hang on a sec,” Elle said. “I’ve grown out of a few things, and I think you would love them. They’ve gotten too tight in the waist and the bust. I’ve got to stop eating so many damn cookies.”

“Prada?” Astrid asked as her ears perked up.

Vamps were clothes whores. Well, Demons were too.

“Some Prada, Channel and a few Stella McCartney’s. You interested?” Elle asked.

“You had me at Prada,” Astrid said with a laugh as she sat back down and wiggled with excitement.

Elle entered the office with a pile of designer wear and plopped it at Astrid’s feet. I expected Astrid to scream with joy. She was such a materialistic Vampyre—it was one of her qualities I adored.

But no. She simply stared at Elle with her mouth wide open.

“Are you okay?” Elle asked with concern as Astrid continued to gape at her.

“Are you?” Astrid whispered, staring straight at Elle’s stomach.

While I had to admit Elle’s stomach had grown larger since her obscenely enormous breakfast of beans-n-franks, I found my niece’s behavior appalling in a way that wasn’t amusing in the least. Elle was still gorgeous even though she clearly had an eating problem. On April 1st the hangry issue would be moot. Astrid did not need to draw attention to the fact that Elle’s lady time had extended her belly.

“I’m fine,” Elle said.

“Are you sure?” Astrid pressed.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Elle inquired as her lavender eyes began to flash.

Shit. Heads were about to fly. Literally.

“Umm… well…” Astrid stuttered, looking to me for help.

I wasn’t about to help her. I was casing the office for somewhere to hide. My niece was about to lose body parts.

“Spit it out,” Elle snapped, beginning to cry. “I know I’m fat.”

Astrid smiled at Elle then stood to wipe the tears rolling down her cheeks. “And you don’t know why?”

“For the love of everything that doesn’t need to be discussed,” I shouted, having enough of my lover being upset. “Elle is having her lady time. You already know this, Astrid. There is no reason to point it out. It will be over on my womb eviction day. Her mother told my mother that her time shall only last a week and will be over early in the morning of April 1st. If you insist on making my lover cry, I’ll give you something to cry about for the rest of eternity. Am I clear?”

“Wait. What?” Elle asked, glancing over at me in confusion.

“Darling,” I said, warily approaching her. “I’m fully aware that