Brooke waltzes toward me in her four-inch heels. I wonder if she’ll still wear stilettos when she’s eight months pregnant, waddling around on heels with her huge belly. Probably. She’s vain enough that she’d probably take the risk of tripping and falling, even while knocked-up.
Ugh. Why am I even thinking about Brooke’s pregnancy? It’s only making me queasier.
“The silent treatment? Really?” Brooke laughs on her way to the refrigerator. “I expected better from you, Ella.”
I roll my eyes at her back. “Like you really care how my day was. I’m just saving us the trouble of making small talk neither of us care about.”
Brooke grabs a pitcher of filtered water and goes to pour herself a tall glass. “Actually, I’ve been anxiously waiting for a chance to talk to you.”
Uh-huh. I’m sure.
“Callum and I were talking the other night, and we thought it would be a good idea if you and Dinah planned my baby shower.”
My spine goes rigid. Is she kidding me?
“It’d be a nice bonding opportunity for the two of you,” Brooke goes on. “Callum agrees.”
Yeah right. There’s no way this was Callum’s idea. The day he took me to meet Steve’s widow, he drank himself into a coma in the car and begged me not to listen to a word Dinah O’Halloran said.
Brooke eyes me expectantly. “What do you think, sweetie?”
“What do I think?” I echo in a syrupy tone. “I think I’d like to see some paternity test results before I waste my time on a baby shower.”
Her delicate jaw tightens. “That was uncalled for.”
“Nah, I don’t think it was.” I prop a hip against the counter, then shrug. “You might have fooled Callum into believing this is a Royal baby, but I’ve got my doubts, sweetie.”
“Oh, it’s a Royal baby, all right. But are you sure you want to know which Royal’s DNA made up half this bundle of love?” She pats her tiny baby bump and smiles at me.
My hands clench into fists. She’s struck a nerve, and she knows it.
You can’t hit a pregnant woman, says the firm voice in my head.
I swallow my rising anger and force my fingers to relax.
Brooke nods in approval, as if she voodoo’d her way into my head and knows how badly I want to smack her. “So, back to this baby shower,” she says as if that bit of ugliness didn’t just happen. “You should really consider helping Dinah plan it. She wasn’t happy with the way you treated her at dinner.”
“I barely said a word to her.”
“Exactly.” Brooke frowns at me. “Dinah isn’t someone you want as an enemy, Ella.”
I frown right back. “What does that mean?”
“It means she doesn’t take kindly to rudeness, and your behavior—you and the boys—seriously pissed her off.”
She didn’t look pissed when she was having sex with Callum’s son in the hall bathroom, I almost spit out.
“When I spoke her to the next morning, she even brought up the C-word,” Brooke says in a singsong voice.
My jaw drops. Wow. Dinah called me a—
“Contest,” Brooke supplies, chuckling at my horrified expression.
I stare blankly at her.
“Dinah threatened to contest Steven’s will,” she clarifies. “And if she goes through with it, I guarantee you that she’ll tie it up in court for years. By the time she’s done, there’ll be no money left for either one of you—the lawyers will get it all. I’ve already advised her against it, but Dinah’s always been stubborn, and she was incredibly offended by the way you treated her.”
“What does she care?” I shake my head in annoyance. “I don’t know her and I didn’t know Steve.”
Brooke sips her water. “Feel lucky about that second one. Not knowing Steve.”
My brow furrows. As much as I hate getting drawn into a conversation with the she-devil, I can’t deny that my curiosity is piqued every time someone mentions my biological father. “Why?”
“Because despite what Callum Royal thinks, Steve was a terrible friend.”
Given that her source is probably Dinah, who I think is one step up from Brooke in the demon stakes, I don’t trust a word of this, but I smile prettily and nod because that’s the easiest way out of this discussion.
“If you say so.”
“It’s the truth. You’re lucky he’s dead. I’d hate to see what he would do to an innocent, young girl like you.” The bluntly stated words, so different from her usual saccharine delivery, raise the hairs on the back of my neck.
“I know Dinah is mad about the will, but I had nothing to do with that.”
Brooke’s mouth twists into an ugly line. “Steve would’ve left it to a turtle if it meant keeping it away from Dinah. Him leaving it to you was the shock. Even Callum thought the money would go to his sons.”
That stops me short. Is that why Gideon doesn’t like me? Because he thinks I stole his inheritance?
“The boys already have a ton from Callum,” I point out.
Brooke shakes her head in mock dismay. “You can never have enough in this world. Haven’t you learned that yet?” She sets her mug on the counter between us. “It’s not too late, Ella. Dinah and I can be your family. You don’t need to stay here with these men. They’re poisonous. They’ll use you up and hurt you.”
I stare back at her in disbelief. “No one has hurt me more than you have. You’re trying to tear this family apart and I don’t understand why. What’s your end game here? What do you have against them?”
She sighs, like I’m a dumb child. “My end game is survival, and Lord, I’ve tried to teach that to you, too. I tried and tried to tell you to get away. Everything I did when you were around was to help you.” Her tone changes. It’s no longer sweet, but hard and biting. “But I see you’re like all the others. So blinded by those dazzling Royal smiles that you can’t see your own salvation. My momma told me you can’t cast your pearls before the swine.”
“And I’m swine because I think the Royals aren’t going to be the end of me?”
“You’re ignorant and lost in your own teen lust, which is sad, but,” she gives a delicate shrug, “I can’t make you wise. You’ll have to learn those hard lessons on your own.”
Ugh. Why am I even thinking about Brooke’s pregnancy? It’s only making me queasier.
“The silent treatment? Really?” Brooke laughs on her way to the refrigerator. “I expected better from you, Ella.”
I roll my eyes at her back. “Like you really care how my day was. I’m just saving us the trouble of making small talk neither of us care about.”
Brooke grabs a pitcher of filtered water and goes to pour herself a tall glass. “Actually, I’ve been anxiously waiting for a chance to talk to you.”
Uh-huh. I’m sure.
“Callum and I were talking the other night, and we thought it would be a good idea if you and Dinah planned my baby shower.”
My spine goes rigid. Is she kidding me?
“It’d be a nice bonding opportunity for the two of you,” Brooke goes on. “Callum agrees.”
Yeah right. There’s no way this was Callum’s idea. The day he took me to meet Steve’s widow, he drank himself into a coma in the car and begged me not to listen to a word Dinah O’Halloran said.
Brooke eyes me expectantly. “What do you think, sweetie?”
“What do I think?” I echo in a syrupy tone. “I think I’d like to see some paternity test results before I waste my time on a baby shower.”
Her delicate jaw tightens. “That was uncalled for.”
“Nah, I don’t think it was.” I prop a hip against the counter, then shrug. “You might have fooled Callum into believing this is a Royal baby, but I’ve got my doubts, sweetie.”
“Oh, it’s a Royal baby, all right. But are you sure you want to know which Royal’s DNA made up half this bundle of love?” She pats her tiny baby bump and smiles at me.
My hands clench into fists. She’s struck a nerve, and she knows it.
You can’t hit a pregnant woman, says the firm voice in my head.
I swallow my rising anger and force my fingers to relax.
Brooke nods in approval, as if she voodoo’d her way into my head and knows how badly I want to smack her. “So, back to this baby shower,” she says as if that bit of ugliness didn’t just happen. “You should really consider helping Dinah plan it. She wasn’t happy with the way you treated her at dinner.”
“I barely said a word to her.”
“Exactly.” Brooke frowns at me. “Dinah isn’t someone you want as an enemy, Ella.”
I frown right back. “What does that mean?”
“It means she doesn’t take kindly to rudeness, and your behavior—you and the boys—seriously pissed her off.”
She didn’t look pissed when she was having sex with Callum’s son in the hall bathroom, I almost spit out.
“When I spoke her to the next morning, she even brought up the C-word,” Brooke says in a singsong voice.
My jaw drops. Wow. Dinah called me a—
“Contest,” Brooke supplies, chuckling at my horrified expression.
I stare blankly at her.
“Dinah threatened to contest Steven’s will,” she clarifies. “And if she goes through with it, I guarantee you that she’ll tie it up in court for years. By the time she’s done, there’ll be no money left for either one of you—the lawyers will get it all. I’ve already advised her against it, but Dinah’s always been stubborn, and she was incredibly offended by the way you treated her.”
“What does she care?” I shake my head in annoyance. “I don’t know her and I didn’t know Steve.”
Brooke sips her water. “Feel lucky about that second one. Not knowing Steve.”
My brow furrows. As much as I hate getting drawn into a conversation with the she-devil, I can’t deny that my curiosity is piqued every time someone mentions my biological father. “Why?”
“Because despite what Callum Royal thinks, Steve was a terrible friend.”
Given that her source is probably Dinah, who I think is one step up from Brooke in the demon stakes, I don’t trust a word of this, but I smile prettily and nod because that’s the easiest way out of this discussion.
“If you say so.”
“It’s the truth. You’re lucky he’s dead. I’d hate to see what he would do to an innocent, young girl like you.” The bluntly stated words, so different from her usual saccharine delivery, raise the hairs on the back of my neck.
“I know Dinah is mad about the will, but I had nothing to do with that.”
Brooke’s mouth twists into an ugly line. “Steve would’ve left it to a turtle if it meant keeping it away from Dinah. Him leaving it to you was the shock. Even Callum thought the money would go to his sons.”
That stops me short. Is that why Gideon doesn’t like me? Because he thinks I stole his inheritance?
“The boys already have a ton from Callum,” I point out.
Brooke shakes her head in mock dismay. “You can never have enough in this world. Haven’t you learned that yet?” She sets her mug on the counter between us. “It’s not too late, Ella. Dinah and I can be your family. You don’t need to stay here with these men. They’re poisonous. They’ll use you up and hurt you.”
I stare back at her in disbelief. “No one has hurt me more than you have. You’re trying to tear this family apart and I don’t understand why. What’s your end game here? What do you have against them?”
She sighs, like I’m a dumb child. “My end game is survival, and Lord, I’ve tried to teach that to you, too. I tried and tried to tell you to get away. Everything I did when you were around was to help you.” Her tone changes. It’s no longer sweet, but hard and biting. “But I see you’re like all the others. So blinded by those dazzling Royal smiles that you can’t see your own salvation. My momma told me you can’t cast your pearls before the swine.”
“And I’m swine because I think the Royals aren’t going to be the end of me?”
“You’re ignorant and lost in your own teen lust, which is sad, but,” she gives a delicate shrug, “I can’t make you wise. You’ll have to learn those hard lessons on your own.”
