Marrying My Billionaire Hookup - Nadia Lee Page 0,73

rank below road kill. “Let’s wait a bit longer.”

The waiter nods and vanishes.

“How’s your father these days?” Charles asks.

“He’s doing well,” I say, my tone extra placid. My feelings about my parents are my own.

“It’s a shame… All that stuff that happened…” He sighs.

I merely look at him, pitying him for being so misinformed. But he only knows what he’s read and seen on the news. What’s truly a shame is how my parents neglected and emotionally tormented us, but I keep that to myself. Certain things aren’t up for public discussion.

Just then, the maître d’ brings Aaron. I already know what he looks like from the photos Linda attached to the report. He appears respectable enough, especially in a suit. But he picked the wrong size. It’s too tight around his hips and thighs and too loose around his shoulders. Either he borrowed it or he’s an idiot who can’t dress himself. Perhaps both.

“Hi, Grandpa!” he says to Charles.

“Hello,” Charles says evenly. “You’re late.”

“I know. I’m really sorry. Bad traffic.” Aaron turns to me and flashes a helpless smile. “You know how it is in a big city. I apologize for keeping you waiting. I’m Aaron Korvid.” He extends a hand.

I shoot him a smile that reveals nothing. “Edgar Blackwood.”

Unlike his grandfather, he doesn’t seem to understand that he isn’t here to impress me with his grip strength. If he wants to play this game, I can accommodate him with extra pleasure. I exert more strength than necessary, the meaningless smile still on my face.

Finally, he lets go and takes a seat. “You’ve got some grip there, Eddie.” He’s looking at me like we’re best buds.

I raise an eyebrow at the presumption. Not even my brothers call me Eddie.

Charles turns red. “Aaron, it’s Edgar.”

“Right. Edgar. I thought Eddie sounded friendlier. Aren’t people from Louisiana less formal?”

“There is that stereotype.” Irritation is starting to turn into anger. No wonder this pathetic weasel has to make sex tapes. He has very little charm, and he’s too superficial. He might’ve fooled Jo for a while at first, but I doubt he’s ever had a girlfriend who could stand him for more than a few months.

Our server hands Aaron a menu. He smiles at me and Charles. “So. What did I miss? Anything important?”

“I was just telling your grandfather about the woman I’m going to marry soon.”

“Oh really? Congratulations.” He leans forward, beaming. “Talk about a coincidence. I’m about to get hitched myself!”

If this is his attempt at establishing common ground, he’s failing badly. I let myself smile, not bothering to hide the mean pleasure coursing through my veins. “You might actually know her, since she’s from around here. Josephine Martinez? She’s a fashion consultant and personal shopper.”

Aaron’s smile seems to freeze in place. “What?” he says faintly.

“Well! That’s wonderful!” Charles gives me a warm smile. “I hope I get invited to the ceremony. Is it going to be in Tempérane?”

He’s being so genuine that it’s hard to tell if he knows that Jo is Aaron’s ex. Or that his grandson gave her the ugliest ring in the history of human civilization. “We haven’t decided yet,” I say. “Still a lot of planning to do. Her family’s in business as well, and we’re considering which place would be most advantageous.”

“Oh, I completely understand,” Charles says. “With families like ours, there are always extra considerations.” He glances at Aaron. “Probably make quite a few new connections at an event like that.”

“Exactly. Opportunities to meet new investors, all sorts of things.”

“Hold on a minute,” Aaron interjects. “Jo’s my—”

Charles lays a hand on his grandson’s elbow. “I know I speak for both of us in wishing you and your future bride the utmost happiness.”

“Thank you, Charles.”

“But…” Aaron’s gaze darts between me and his grandfather.

“Yes?” I say it easily enough, but there’s an edge to my tone you’d have to be even stupider than Aaron to miss.

Charles clears his throat. “I believe they do know each other. He’s just surprised.”

“Of course.” I hold Aaron’s eyes long enough for him to swallow and finally drop his gaze. I smile and turn to Charles. “Shall we order lunch now?”

* * *

Edgar

After lunch I make a brief stop in the men’s room, then leave the restaurant. Aaron is waiting outside.

“Edgar, my man. I need to say something to you.”

I note Charles is gone. “Yes?” I say in my coldest and most aloof tone. It’s a skill learned from my mother—probably the only thing she ever bothered to teach me that’s