The Prince's Bride (Part 1) - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,93
little odd when she wasn’t there anymore.
Wait—was this love?
I hadn’t even known her for a month.
I couldn’t be in love yet.
Right? Right!
“Sir. Sir?”
“Hmm?” I looked at Wolfgang.
“If you already have something planned, I think we should be aware of it. We are cutting it a bit close,” Wolfgang stated, though I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Planned?”
“Odette’s birthday tomorrow?”
“That’s tomorrow!”
Rippppp.
I waved to Jeremy—a little bit relieved—as he and his foster family left. That was wrong, wasn’t it? But truthfully, I sort of couldn’t wait for the whole day to be over, simply because I wanted to go back and hide away with Gale.
“You seem happier lately.” Her voice was like spiders on my skin lately, and to make matters worse, she refused to leave me alone.
I wasn’t sure what she wanted—maybe it was to drive me crazy. “Were you hoping I’d be sad?” I asked, turning to face the one and only Yvonne. Each time I saw her, I felt like I better understood my mom.
“Of course not, you are my daughter, too.”
“That’s the first I’ve heard of that,” I said, but seeing as how we were in public, I didn’t want to cause a scene. “Thank you for that reminder, but please remember, I have a very capable and loving mother.”
“Odette.”
“Yes, Yvonne, I’m here.”
“I know about your financial troubles,” she whispered, placing her hand on my shoulder. “And I know your mother hasn’t exactly been helping you. If you need help, all you have to do is ask.”
The gall of this woman. After what she had told me the last time we met, she still had the audacity to be in my face?
“We are fine,” I said, brushing her hand off me. “Thank you, but my father left me with more than enough to take care of my mother and me. Unless you plan on taking that.”
She frowned. “As I told you before, whatever stories your mother has told about me are wrong—”
“I’m not a child, and I do not need stories. I see the world via my own eyes, and you’ve never been a mother to me, Yvonne. So, what exactly is it that you want?”
She exhaled, crossing her arms. “It’s not always good to be blunt, Odette.”
“It’s worked for me so far.”
“Fine, I want your shares in the company.”
I laughed. “When hell freezes over.”
“You don’t even know what to do with them.”
“Ninety percent of the country doesn’t, and yet the stock market exists. Why in the world would I give you my shares?”
“I’m not telling you to hand them over. Sell them to me.”
“No.”
“Odette.”
“My father left them to me, and I’m not giving or selling them to anyone.”
Her jaw cracked to the side. “Remember, I came to you nicely.”
“This is nice?”
She didn’t reply. She just walked away, and I wasn’t sure what to make of the whole exchange. But I didn’t, nor did I want to think about it.
“Everything all right?”
I turned to Gale, who stood, waiting, and just like that, my shoulders relaxed. I wasn’t sure how he did it, but I was grateful.
“Yeah.” I smiled.
“I’m perfect.”
Chapter 23
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
That sound— Jumping out of bed, I yelled, “The fire extin—”
I froze on top of the mattress, completely and utterly confused, as Gale grinned at me, a phone with a beeping alarm in one hand and a cupcake in the other.
“You!”
“Happy birthday!” He laughed at me.
Grabbing the pillow, I threw it at his head. “Not funny!”
“Really? Because I’m laughing quite hard.” And he really was even as he ducked out the way of the pillow.
“So freaking annoying,” I grumbled, sitting back down on the bed and grabbing the covers to wrap around myself—seeing as how I was barely dressed. I could hardly remember last night. Well, that was a lie. I could completely remember last night, but I didn’t want to think about it. However, not wanting to think about something only made me think about it more. We’d gone to my mother’s for Thanksgiving dinner and found ourselves pretending to be watching a movie when in reality, we did what we had been doing a lot of lately—holding on to each other until the other fell asleep. I vaguely remembered trying to press for more only to be gently rejected, which was confusing, seeing as how I remembered how it felt as he carried me back to bed. How it felt it when he was kissing me, holding on to me...and how disappointed I was when he had stopped and said we should sleep. I had