Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“Oh no, you’ve got that wrong, Lottie. Matt never took care of me. He paid for things so that I’d take care of him. But yes, I’ve found someone to handle all that. It feels good to be looked after for once. Not that you’d remember, right? How long has it been since your husband left?”
Aurora, who’d come away from the buffet with a full plate of food, paused with a mini hotdog halfway to her mouth, staring at Austin. Broken Sue wore a little smirk, lifting his glass to his lips.
Niamh could not believe they were still pretending to be civil. It was madness! They were outright fighting, throwing down with words, and still giving each other little smiles or chuckles. In the magical world, tension this intense always led to vicious spells or stab wounds.
“Besides, I clearly didn’t find someone new as quickly as Matt did,” Jessie said, a tiny bit of outrage working into her voice. “He moved on before the ink was even dry on our divorce. He’s been engaged for months. I sure hope you gave him just as much derision as you’re giving me.”
“Is that what this is about?” Lottie’s mouth puckered, like she’d won some sort of victory. “It’s unseemly for a woman to move on so quickly; everyone knows that. It makes her seem desperate. But this makes more sense. You grabbed the first yokel you could because Matt had found someone else.”
Jessie stared at her for a silent beat, and the emotions Niamh felt through the Ivy House bond were all over the place. Niamh couldn’t pinpoint just one.
“I hadn’t heard you’d gotten engaged, either,” Lottie said, pushing her advantage. “That must’ve been recent.” She tsked. “I hope it wasn’t a Christmas proposal. That is so unoriginal. Almost tacky.”
Jessie seemed to shrink before the other woman, as if the wind was going out of her sails.
Austin tensed and turned away, his emotions calm but his eyes tight. It couldn’t be easy for him not to go to Jessie’s aid. This must’ve been what it was like at the dinner the other night. These people used personal information to make vicious attacks, but their duplicity was hidden behind light tones and condescending smiles. Very effective. Niamh knew all about how that went down, having used the same tactic on enemies she wanted to incite.
But these people used it on family, and probably friends. They’d clearly used it on Jessie when she and that bollock were together. He’d give her a verbal battering, then the mom—whom he’d surely learned his tricks from—would follow up. It seemed Jessie hadn’t been allowed to have any friends for backup or support. It had been just her, for all those years, dealing with this shite and not having the money to walk away, the know-how to fight back, or maybe even the realization that this was not normal. There were a lot of wealthy people in the world, but not many of them were this breed of arsehole. This family was…special.
“Come on, Jessie,” Niamh whispered under her breath, trying to pump her full of the desire to fight. To battle. To blow things up.
Another wave of the same feelings came through the bond from someone else—Mr. Tom. He must’ve been within earshot somewhere. Then another, Edgar, probably having no idea what was going on but joining in anyway. You could always count on that vampire. Another addition, Ulric. Then Jasper, joining in for the sake of unity. Cyra’s addition felt like fire itself—that was new—and Hollace’s was a stiff breeze, igniting Cyra’s feeling of flames. The bonds echoed with the crew’s battle cry. With their need to rise up and fight back. To push Jessie to claim her destiny. Her freedom. Her self-worth. She wasn’t alone anymore. She wasn’t in this storm by herself. They were with her, in all things.
And finally Austin joined in, a steady drumbeat of power. Of strength. Of support.
Jessie’s back straightened within the gale of the other woman’s condescending smirk.
“I feel sorry for you,” she finally said, surprising Niamh because it was clear she meant the words. It wasn’t the war cry Niamh might’ve expected or hoped for. “If you truly think a woman moving on after a divorce is desperate, I feel sorry for you. If that double standard is the reason for your current loneliness, your bitterness, your…need to push these arbitrary rules on other people to drag them down to your level, then my heart goes out to you. Truly. But you are delusional if you can look at Austin and call him a yokel. You know as well as I do that there is no one in this house who is as handsome, successful, and, quite frankly, well dressed. He is also the most charming, considerate, and supportive man I have ever known. You can try to make me feel bad about a great many things in my life, but him and his—my family are not on that list.” She paused for a moment, her bearing so incredibly casual. Nonchalant. “And he doesn’t need the timing of a proposal to be original”—she lifted her hand, ring held out toward Lottie—“when he’s slipping a two-carat Harry Winston on my finger.”