Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Hades, now would be a good time for that sudden and abrupt trip to Tartarus that we talked about.
“I’ve never been more sure that I’ll crawl on bloody knees over rocks and glass forever... as long as on the other side is you.”
I covered my mouth, hiding the trembling smile on my lips.
“I love you,” Rhodes said.
“I love you,” chimed Micah.
Alex drew my hand away from my lips and pressed them to his. Gazing into my eyes, he said, “I love you.
“Happy anniversary.”
I choked up as oohs, aahs, hoots, hollers, and applause echoed through the ballroom.
Rhodes handed back the mic and the party kicked off anew.
Knowing my evil twin as well as I did, I knew Sue chose an all-white theme and dress code just so she could be the black butterfly belle of the ball with all eyes on her. I also had a feeling she was going for a classy, elegant, snooty party to impress all the high-society friends she didn’t have in New York City.
Good thing baby sis was here to screw that all up.
“Whoo!” I shrieked—bouncing up and down the dance floor, shaking my ass like the song demanded. Courtney bounced after me, leading a very happy and very tipsy Mr. Stevens around by the tie. “Come on, Mama Spencer!”
I grasped Micah’s mother’s forearms. She was hiding on the edge of the dance floor, acting like she didn’t want to dance, but I could see her toes tapping from across the room.
“Don’t get all shy on me. I know there’s a wild woman in you,” I said to the slight terror on her face. “You didn’t make a son as fine as yours by being all innocent and demure.”
“Sue!” Micah cried over his mother’s giggling. “Can you not? I was conceived by immaculate conception, and I will not be told otherwise.”
Marsha Spencer only laughed louder. “Well, I was known to get a little naughty back in my day.” She winked at me. “Truth is, Micah gets it from me.”
“Yeah, he does.” I put my hands on my hips, jutting them this way and that. “Now show everyone the real meaning of the phrase birthing hips.”
Chortling like a schoolgirl, Mama Spencer got down—wining, wiggling, and twerking to put everyone to shame.
That was until Micah promptly grabbed and led her away. “Time to rest, Mother. You’re drunk and my wife is clearly a terrible influence on you.”
“Terrible or not, she’s fun,” I heard Marsha say. “Was she always like this? Why have I never seen this side of...?”
I didn’t let the loss of my dance partner stop me—not when I had no shortage of them. The nineteen-thousand-dollar bottles of wine were flowing, our bellies were full of delicious food, and the bass was thumping. Everyone was either on the dance floor, or hooking up in shadowy corners. I wasn’t about to be the wet blanket sitting around when my flat ass needed shaking.
“Wow. You’re having fun.”
Three women came up on me so fast, I almost tripped over my heels bouncing to a stop.
Naturally, they were all wearing elegant white gowns, but that wasn’t the matching that concerned me. For some reason, they were all looking at me with identical nasty smirks.
“Uh, do I kn—?” I cut the question off at the knees—Courtney’s words ringing in my head. Very likely, the real Sue did know these women, so asking that question would be the stupidest thing I could do. “Is something wrong?” I asked instead.
The woman in the middle flattened her grin into a thinner, blander smile. She had long, bronze hair and a little button nose. “What could be wrong, Sue Bear? It looks like you’re doing very well for yourself. Seems like just yesterday the four of us were hanging out outside Hamilton Hall, watching the guys playing football on the south field. You said then that you’d bag the richest and handsomest of the bunch”—she looked around—“and you did.”
“Uh... huh,” I drew out. Old college friends from New York. This is bad. “It’s true, I have been very lucky in love. Three amazing, smart, talented men are in love with me, and we’re raising a beautiful little girl. I’ve got nothing to complain about.” Good. Just keep it generic. Don’t offer any details.
Her grin widened. “I bet.”
“Good for you,” the woman on her right agreed. She was just as glamorous, but she opted for a short red pixie cut and purple contacts that made me wonder if she copied the eye color after her first meeting with Sue. Our naturally purple eyes were always our most talked about, and envied, feature.
“But, you know, it’s funny,” Pixie continued. “I’m on the Columbia alumni committee. I’m sure your lovely husbands told you that the CAC has a little fundraiser coming up, but the weird thing is,” she said, sharing a look with her friends, “you weren’t on any of the alumna contact lists. In fact, Sue, you’re not in the database at all.”