biggest sycophants since well before I was born, says. “I’ve heard so much about you. What is it that you do again?” It’s an obvious setup, but Poppy doesn’t take the bait.
“I’m an author, working on my second novel.”
Audrey sniffs, clearly still trying to cast shade. “She writes romance books.”
Lisa gasps on cue, looking like she just smelled a three-day old rotten egg fart. “I see.”
“Hmph,” Bernie, who probably doesn’t know anything about romance books, or knowing his personal history, about romance at all, grunts. “You know what a criminal degenerate this one is, don’t you?”
“Trust me, she knows,” I growl. Bernie’s always been one of the family members most obsessed with my criminality.
Audrey shakes her head sadly, acting as if she’s the long-suffering fountain of wisdom and forbearance even though she’s just stirring the shit. “I tried to tell her. You know I did. Some people just don’t take good advice when it’s given.”
Gene hums, his eyes fixed on Poppy’s figure in her dress. “Such a shame. A pretty girl like you could do so much better than an ugly man like Connor.”
He doesn’t mean my good looks. He’s talking about his perception of my soul—that its ugly, black with sin, and worthless because I don’t bow down to what he deems the proper thing to do and be.
Bernie huffs his agreement with Gene and then sips his champagne. Looking at Poppy, he shrugs dismissively. “You’ll never get his family money, anyway. Robert and Debra won’t support his lifestyle.”
“What the fuck did you say?” I snap too loudly. The sharp and cutting tone draws attention from people all around us. Audrey looks like she can taste the victory of pushing me over the edge.
I’m not even mad at what he’s saying about my parents and me. I’m furious that he’s reducing Poppy to nothing more than a gold-digging whore when she’s nothing of the sort.
Poppy, who has every justification to go full-on batshit crazy on this group, is a rock, though. Calmly, she lays her hand over my arm before I go ballistic and ruin Caylee’s special day by becoming the violent thug my family thinks I am.
“Connor,” she says quietly, patting me gently like I’m a lapdog she can control with the slightest command. I don’t know what to say about the fact that I instantly quiet, knowing from her overly sweet smile that she’s about to slice and dice this guy, and I, for one, can’t wait to see it.
Clearing her throat, Poppy’s smile takes on that manic glint that I’ve seen before, the one she showed the pawn shop guy who she insists on calling Gary’s ‘foster daddy’. “Oh, I’m not with Connor for his handsome face or his family,” she says in a fake as hell snooty accent, laughing lightly like that’s absurd. “I’m with him because of his monster dick.” Everyone gasps in shock, but Poppy keeps going, never one to back down from anything. Especially something crazy. Her sugary smile only grows. “It doesn’t hurt that he really knows how to use it too. Well, sometimes it does hurt, but in the best way. You know what I mean, don’t you?”
Poppy nudges my Great-Aunt Edna, flashing her a conspiratory look. Edna sputters, hand over her pearls, literally clutching them in horror. “I, well . . . no, I never . . .”
Poppy frowns dramatically. “Never? Oh, dear, how utterly tragic.” She tsks sadly. Dropping her voice, she confides, “I tell you what, I’ll send you a copy of my bestseller book. Ryker really gives it to Amber good. Think of it as ‘girls helping girls’, you know.” Poppy winks with her mouth open, like she’s sharing some great secret. “One warning, though, it does have anal in it. That might be a bit advanced to start out with, but you just see what feels right, m’kay?”
“Anal?” Edna stammers.
Poppy smiles wide, purposefully misunderstanding Edna’s reaction. “Ooh, Edna! You naughty minx. Don’t worry, if anal sex is what appeals to you, I spell it out in graphic detail. Just remember . . . you know how in real estate, it’s location, location, location? With anal, it’s lubrication, lubrication, lubrication. Never too much, right, babe?” Poppy asks me.
I reach down and grab a handful of her ass, squeezing vulgarly. “Never too much,” I agree.
If she were talking about anal sex with anyone other than my wrinkled Aunt Edna, I think I’d be hard as rock right now, but the ridiculous brilliance of Poppy’s mind is sending