Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 713(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 713(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
GARRETT
The day of her shoot came, and I still had no idea what she was up to. I get the feeling that my family knows, but no one is talking. She got those Benedict Arnolds, my father included, to change camps overnight, it seems, and I watched her do it flawlessly.
She FaceTimes with my Mom and younger sister at least once a day and has the most intense conversations. Listening from the sidelines, it’s obvious that she’s genuinely interested in everything they’re saying, but I know there’s an underlying reason for her shit; I just haven’t figured out what it is yet.
Like when I walked into our bedroom the day before and saw her with all the heirloom jewelry Mom and Dad had brought her in Cabo. We’d had no choice but to bring them along with us with her trousseau since I wasn’t about to trust millions of dollars worth of heirloom jewelry to anyone else.
When I asked what she was doing, she ignored me and went back to talking to my family, who were breaking down every piece and the history behind it. I could tell by the look on my parents’ faces that they were impressed with her, but later, when my Dad made the statement to me about her style and etiquette and how genteel she was, I had to ask him if we were talking about the same woman.
He took offense to me insulting his daughter-in-law, though I hadn’t said a word, and I warned him that if his son turned up in a ditch somewhere, it was all his fault since he chose the enemy. Since Mom terrorizes him as well, he found it funny and told me to man up and stop being a punk.
In our third conversation, instead of discussing business, which was my sole reason for calling him while on my honeymoon, something he had fought for, claiming that you never stop working no matter what, he had called me out for leaving my bride alone on her honeymoon to make money.
It was at that point that I realized that she’d pushed me out and taken over. I shudder to think what the future will bring at this rate since they’d barely been in a room together for more than a few hours. My father never passes up an opportunity to discuss business.
Anyway, she’d won them over with her grace and calm. My mother was singing her praises, and my sister couldn’t wait for the two of them to go shopping together. My sister, who has hounded every female I have dated since breaking things off with Natalie, claiming they were all gold diggers, yelled at me when I told her that the black card I had ordered for my wife had not yet been delivered.
She was very annoyed, and my darling wife, who happens to have healthy savings as well as investment portfolio for one so young, batted her lashes at me and acted as if I was keeping her destitute.
I have no idea what she did to bring about this change, but I have never heard my sister, the snob, refer to anyone as her sister or seen her be so receptive to newcomers. I’d like to think it was their faith in me and my judgment that was the reason behind their easy willingness to accept her, but I think I might be wrong. She’d done it all herself.
How someone could find time throughout the day to wreak havoc and mayhem on her enemies while simultaneously schmoozing three of the most pigheaded people in creation into buying their shit is an art I hope to achieve one day. My woman is nuts.
Now she’s prancing around, getting ready to sit down for the interview that I had somehow been roped into doing along with her. She went with Grace Kelly for her wedding gown, but the Chanel suit she chose for the interview was all Jackie-O.
The team that came, with the editor and production team, whom I was sure were here to get a look at my wife because they weren’t needed, had done her hair and makeup, and she was wearing some of the jewelry pieces my family had gifted her.
I recognized some of the pieces and knew that she had blended pieces from both sides of my ancestry. I did not appreciate being stuffed into a bloody suit on my beach holiday, but when I grumbled about it, she told me to suck it up and stop being a whiny bitch.
I had never in my life been spoken to like that, and when I mentioned that fact, she’d snorted and told me to get over myself. I think it was then that I realized yet another reason I had fallen so hard and so fast for her. She doesn’t give a shit about who I am or what I own; she treats me the same way I’ve seen her treat the staff.