The Accidental Marriage: Chapter 13

“Who’s Barry?” Lareina asks.

“The groom.” My aunt takes a sip of wine—my wine.

“I thought his name was Ares.”

“I am Ares. She’s talking about somebody else,” I say. Facing my aunt unprepared with Lareina wasn’t part of my plan for the day. I was going to talk to Dad and Akiko first.

I place Lareina on one of the stools, making sure there’s an empty one between her and Jeremiah. My aunt has many admirable qualities, but nurturing and welcoming aren’t her forte.

“So who is she and why is she here?” she asks me, as though Lareina weren’t right in front of her.

“I’m Lareina. And I’m Ares’s wife.”

“I see.” Aunt Jeremiah continues to study Lareina, her eyes narrowed.

Lareina merely looks back with a smile, which sparks a reluctant respect. It isn’t easy to remain serene—and very few people manage to keep themselves together when faced with my aunt. She’s a scary cross-examiner. If the family hadn’t been so focused on its legal empire, she could’ve had a career at the CIA or NSA, interrogating terrorism suspects.

She turns to me. “So this is the answer to our objection to your promotion?”

“Yes. Lareina is a nice, respectable wife.”

“Mmm.” Noncommittal. So typical of my aunt, since she hates being pinned down until she feels she has sufficient data to make a decision.

I check to see the damage she’s done to my groceries. Although she broke in and helped herself to my wine, she hasn’t contributed a thing to my pantry or fridge.

I quickly toast a couple of bagels, then load them with cream cheese and smoked salmon slices with a few gherkins. I hand a plate to Lareina along with a bottle of water. She sips slowly, but doesn’t touch the food.

“Picky eater?” Aunt Jeremiah’s tone would be conversational to most, but not to me. There’s a tinge of surprise that I’d be with someone who’s so particular. She’s seen me with my exes. “Inattentive, uncaring workaholic asshole who might be fun to screw but is bad for everything else and certainly not worth the fuss” is what she called me some years ago after my third romantic relationship ended. My ex at that time made a scene in the Huxley & Webber lobby every day for over two months, and I walked past her, seeing through her as though she were a stranger.

“Not really,” Lareina says. “Just not that hungry yet.”

I bite into my own bagel sandwich. Time to rescue Lareina. “What are you doing here, Aunt Jeremiah? Where are your clothes?”

“The pipes in my bathroom sprang a leak that went unnoticed, and made an unholy mess at my place. The plumber said repairs would take a while. Obviously, my house is uninhabitable until he’s finished.”

“And…?” I prompt her, still unsure why she’s here, in my home.

“So here I am.” She smiles creepily through the green goo. There’s a reason smiley faces are yellow.

“No hotels?”

“Couldn’t find anything I liked. You know I’m discerning.”

“Why not Ted?” I say.

“He’s hosting an orgy at his place this weekend.”

I give Lareina a reassuring smile. We aren’t as weird as that sounds. Orgies! Avoided!

Her eyes skitter from me and my aunt, then drop to her plate. Some impression to make on a twenty-nine-year-old virgin. Jesus.

“Why not Hux?” I say irritably, referring to her son. Ted was too lazy to use his creativity, so he named the child Huxley after Aunt Jeremiah’s surname. He fits so many criteria for deadbeat fathers—except for the fact that he’s rich as hell and financially generous with his seven sons.

“He absolutely refuses to share his place with me. Says he’s married. Needs his privacy. Ridiculous.” She puffs, then waves her cigar irritably.

“So stay with Dad.” I take another bite.

Her back stiffens. “That insufferable know-it-all thinks that the ruling in—”

“Got it,” I interrupt before she starts in on her thesis about the constitutionality of some really old and obscure case. Dad and she often disagree on the most abstruse points of law, and being that they’re both headstrong lawyers, neither will give an inch. But it’s really for the best that she doesn’t stay with Dad, for Akiko’s sake. My stepmother isn’t a lawyer, but both Dad and Aunt Jeremiah try to drag her into their arguments, wanting her to judge the validity of their legal theories. Since Akiko hates to cause disharmony and hard feelings, she absolutely detests it when they bicker and does her best to ply them with saké, hoping good alcohol will dull their sharp tongues.

Aunt Jeremiah flicks her eyes at Lareina, then at me. “Why is your wife looking at you like a dog watching its owner eat?”

Lareina turns redder than a tomato. “I’m not.”

“Of course you are.”

Now she turns so crimson that I’m afraid she’s about to burst with embarrassment or anger. “Hey, I can look at him any way I want. He’s my husband.”

Aunt Jeremiah’s eyes narrow. Nothing good follows when she gazes at you like that.

“Did you want something to drink other than the wine, Aunt Jeremiah?” I ask, getting up and heading to the fridge.

“You know, maybe I’ll go upstairs and let you two talk,” Lareina says. “Maybe being able to climb a flight of stairs without spilling any water will convince your aunt that I’m not a dog.” She picks up my plate and bottle and leaves before I can say anything.

“Look what you’ve done,” I say to Aunt Jeremiah.

“She stole your plate!”

“She’s worried I’m not eating enough, so she left me the untouched plate.” I pull Lareina’s plate toward me and start biting into the bagel like there’s nothing wrong with this. I don’t understand Lareina’s weird obsession with swapping plates either, and don’t want to get into it with my aunt. I make a mental note to talk to Lareina about it later.

Aunt Jeremiah glances toward the now-empty staircase, then turns to me. Her gaze is intensely focused. “Where did you find her?”

“Vegas, the City of Fast and Furious Marriages. Where else?”

“Be serious.”

“Oh, I am. As you, Dad and Grandmother wanted, I’m respectably married.” I spread my arms dramatically.

“Why did she marry you, then? You didn’t have time to draft and sign a prenup, did you?”

“No. She married me out of necessity. The foundation of our marriage is solid.”

Aunt Jeremiah snorts. “What happened to Soledad?”

“We broke up. I caught her fucking a gigolo.”

“Why on earth would she do that?”

“Something about it being the best way to get me back.”

“Good God.” What a dumbass, her tone says. “But Lareina? It isn’t like you to rebound. You didn’t really care for Soledad, did you?”

“Not really. And no, Lareina isn’t a rebound.” I tell her what happened, leaving out all the details of Lareina that would prevent me from presenting her as a nice, respectable wife to The Fogeys.

“So you traded a moron for an eccentric.” Although my aunt used a more politic term, it’s clear what she really wants to call Lareina is “weird” or “crazy.”

“She saved me from Harvey. How could I not fall for a woman who kept me safe?” I lay it on thick.

“That doesn’t mean she’s safe.” She frowns. “Besides, you said she’s from Nesovia, which is a nasty country for women. Her aunt probably won’t give up so easily. I had a client from there, in a similar situation. A jewelry heiress. She got out of it by arranging for a marriage with her cheating fiancé’s brother. It was quite the drama.”

“Are you talking about Lucienne Peery?” I ask.

My aunt nods.

“Did she get what she wanted?” I ask, somewhat curious.

“Of course. I’m very good at giving my clients what they desire. Besides, her husband hired John Highsmith.” She chortles, clearly reliving destroying the client’s husband, then grows serious. “I should’ve warned you that Zoe might try to approach you again when Josh and Bryce turned thirty. Keeping Zoe away from you for life wasn’t something we could pull off. Prescott wanted to walk, but we needed other guarantees from Vincent,” she says, referring to my maternal grandfather.

“Mom won’t get to me like before.”

“She’s more motivated. So is Harvey.”

“Aren’t they always?” I mutter.

“It’s different this time.” She puffs thoughtfully. “The rumor is that Vincent is sick.”

“Finally?” I met him once after the fire that nearly killed me. He was built like a thousand-year-old oak, thick and powerful. I marveled at how he could end up creating somebody as delicate-looking as my mother.

“His last wish is to see you and your brothers. By that, he means have you join the family fold.” I can hear dream on from her tone. “He allegedly said whoever could bring you and your brothers into the family would be his heir. Your mother has always wanted to prove herself to her father, and she won’t pass up this opportunity. Harvey hates her, but most importantly, he knows what’ll happen to him if she wins, so he’ll do everything in his power to ensure he wins. And then…” Aunt Jeremiah pulls a finger across her neck.

That explains why he allied with Soledad and drugged me. He prefers to be more refined in his methods, believing himself to be a man of great sophistication.

“Soledad is a bitch, and she’ll pay for what she’s done,” she continues coolly. “But I’d be careful about your wife, too. Her story is unfortunate, but your due diligence isn’t finished yet. She’s from Nesovia. Who knows what kind of connection she might have with the Dunkels? The country has a clean and proper Chamber of Commerce image, but underneath it’s corrupt as hell. A lot of their industries and politicians have mob connections. And your mother is from one of the most prominent mob families.” She pats my hand, which is a shock. For her it’s practically a hug and vow of unconditional love. She does loyalty well—it’s the first half of the family motto—but love isn’t part of her repertoire. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”