The Prince's Bride (Part 1) - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,22
her not to want to get married. Why would you force her?”
“I’m going to ignore the fact that you think you know my daughter better than me and tell you. First, in order to get her money, she must get married. Secondly, I’m forcing her because I know what she needs.” That sounded like a very unhealthy way to parent a child.
“Your daughter is not a child. If she says she doesn’t want to get married—”
“What my daughter says and what my daughter truly means are often two different things.” Her tone changed, and her face fell, but she never broke eye contact with me. “She wants to get married. She’s always wanted to get married. But she’s just scared to because of the example her father and I set. Love—to her—is synonymous with pain. When Odette is hurt by something, she abandons it. It is the one childish thing about her. So she’s not going to try to fall in love unless I push her into love. I’m starting with you, someone who desperately needs to make it work. No matter how much she pushes and pulls, your brother convinced me you could do it. If you don’t work out, I will move on to someone else. Maybe someone less high profile, a governor’s son, or something.”
Bravo.
In my family, I was the one person who always had the reply, some remark back, but I had no idea what to say to this woman. I had never had a stranger speak to me this way...like I was of no real importance, and just a means to an end for her own plans—actually, that might have been exactly it.
“Oh, by the way, did you happen to bring a costume?” she asked, scrolling through her phone.
“No. I don’t wear costumes.”
“So, Prince Charming it is then.” She grinned, showing me the outfit online.
Was I not speaking English? “I. Do. Not. Wear. Costumes.”
“You are a prince, correct?”
“Yes, but—”
“Are you charming?”
I knew what she was doing. So I didn’t answer.
“See, it’s not a costume. It’s just you then.”
What had my brother gotten me into?
Chapter 6
“Damn, look at that cleavage!” Augusta’s voice all but bounced off my walls since I had her on speakerphone.
“Shut up,” I said, trying to adjust the top of the dress. Giving up, I picked up the phone. It was only then that I saw her red wig and the red, heart-shaped mark on her face. “Augusta, you do know that the Queen of Hearts is a villain, not a hero. Right?”
“She’s just misunderstood.” She grinned, and her collar ruffled. “Besides, if everyone is a hero, how am I going to stand out? I bet you there is going to be at least one other Cinderella there. You’ll look better, but still. How did you get your curls like that?”
“Thanks, and I’ll send you the video I copied it from.” I laughed, lifting my phone. “You look beautiful as always. It’s very fitting actually, considering all the heartbreaks you keep causing.”
She rolled her eyes hard. “Just following your footsteps, big sis.”
“Thanks, but I think you’re way past me.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Oh, we never got to talk about Dad’s will. It’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“Crazy is an understatement. Do you know my mom is trying to get me to marry for the money?”
“Really? You aren’t going to, are you?”
“Not if I can help it. What did your mom say about it?” I asked, carefully pinning the crown into my hair.
“What do you think she said?”
I sighed. “What is wrong with them? They want the money so badly that they’re willing to just throw men at us?”
“They’re ridiculous. Don’t let them pressure you. There is no reason to get married. I’m sure there is a loophole somewhere. If we both stand firm, I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”
“I hope so. Oh, just wait until I tell you who my mom is trying to set me up with,” I started to say when my alarm on the side of my wall flashed, telling me the front doors had opened. “Hold on, Augusta. I think she’s here.”
“Where are you staying right now? The lake or the penthouse?” she asked as I grabbed my bag and moved to the door.
“I came back to the penthouse. It doesn’t make any sense to leave the city just to come back to the city. Traffic tonight will be annoying. Hold one second,” I said, opening my door and looking over the top of the stairs. “Mom, is that you?”