I held English’s hand as we ascended the stairs. She leaned in and whispered, “This place reminds me of a funeral home.”
A crack of laughter followed, coming from me. “I never thought of it that way, but I agree. So dark and dreary. What do you say we redecorate and bring it up to today’s standards? Bright and cheery.”
“What would your brothers say?”
“They’d love it.” We reached the room where the office was so I knocked, using the secret code from our childhood.
“Get in here, you asswipe. Since when did you knock?”
I opened the door and said, “Since I brought my wife to meet you incorrigible idiots.”
Stanton was actually dressed, in a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Landry had on jeans and a T-shirt.
“Wow. What a nice surprise. You must be English. We’ve heard all about you,” Landry said as he hugged her.
“Yes, I am, and thank you. It’s great to meet you too.”
Stanton used his crutch still but was getting around better and better. He held out a hand and introduced himself.
English swatted it away, saying, “No hug? Seriously?”
He dropped the hand and hugged her instead. She was hard not to love. But the best thing was she left him speechless.
When he released her, he gaped. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting a woman such as her. Most of the women I’d dated before had more of a dark and sultry look, but not English. She was a blonde and had more of a wholesome, natural beauty.
“So, bro, the question that begs to be asked is has your wife met the poisonous asps of the family yet?” Stanton eyed the two of us.
“Not yet. I’m saving them for last so we can make a hasty exit.”
“You always were a smart little fucker.”
“Stanton, I tower over you so I hardly think I’m little.”
“Tower? By what? An inch? But you’ll always be my younger brother, hence ‘little fucker.’” It was impossible not to laugh at his comeback.
“Touché.”
We talked business for a time and I explained things to English as we went along. Having a discussion and leaving someone out wasn’t fun, so I included her as best I could.
“I hear you have a daughter,” Landry said.
“I do,” English said. “She’s six, going on thirty.”
“Oh, boy. Sounds like fun.”
“She really is. I’d love for you to meet her.”
“I was wondering about that. Does she like horses?”
“Yes, and unicorns too.”
Landry said, “I can’t help with the unicorns, but I can take her riding sometime. I love to ride and we have stables with plenty of horses, even one or two that would be suitable for her. If you’re not comfortable with that, I could have her ride with me.”
English shot me a glance.
“Landry is the expert,” I said. “He’s been riding since he was four. He used to compete and knows more about horses than all of us put together.”
“You wouldn’t mind?” she asked him.
“Not at all. I’d actually love it.”
I pointed to my little bro. “This guy rides almost every day. Bring Easton out and have her give it a go. Who knows? Maybe she’ll end up competing too.”
“Okay. Do I need to buy anything for her?”
“Nope. Just make sure she wears long pants and a jacket if it’s cool. We have riding helmets, but if she has a bike helmet that has a better fit, you can bring that.”
“That sounds great. Do you have a particular day in mind?”
“What about next Saturday?”
“That works for me. Let’s exchange numbers.” English handed Landry her phone so he could text her his. When he handed it back, she hit reply. “All good now. If anything comes up between now and then, I’ll text. And thank you.” He nodded.
I hated to end this, but it was time to push forward with the rest of the visit. “Are you ready to get snake-bitten?”
“When you put it like that…” She shuddered and let out a jittery laugh.
“I’ll protect you.”
“Do you want us to go?” Landry asked.
“It’s fine. They can’t do anything to either of us. Remember, I hold the financial reins here.”
I escorted English back down the long stairway and told George to have my mother meet me in my father’s old office, and not the drawing room, her usual choice. “Bring us some water too, please.” We went into the room and I pulled another chair behind the imposing desk for English. I moved the two seats so they were side-by-side, and then we sat and waited. And waited. And waited.
George delivered the water, but still no Mother. I called George back in and told him to relay a message. “If she wants to retain her financial status, tell her to be in this office in five minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
I checked the time and five minutes later, on the nose, she strolled in, yawning, wearing a satin robe with feathered slippers. For fuck’s sake, the least she could’ve done was get dressed. But then I leaned back and perused her. This wasn’t the person I normally saw. This woman was flushed and dazed. Though I hated to say it, she appeared freshly fucked.
“Hello, Tristian. And who is this? Your newest conquest?”
“Hardly. This is my wife, English Baines. And what about you? You’re sporting a new look this morning.”
“Your wife?” She tried to look down her nose at English as she stood in front of us, but wearing that robe and with her hair a mess, she looked like a haggard old woman.
“Do you need a hearing aid in your old age?” Maybe that wasn’t very nice, but it was hardly mean compared to what I had endured from her over the years. English nudged my thigh under the desk.
“I am not old, Tristian. I’m barely fifty.” Barely fifty, my ass. She’d passed that age more than a decade ago.
“I hate to say it, but this morning you look like you’ve been rode hard and put up wet, Mother.”
She sucked in a breath. “How dare you!”
“I dare just fine. Maybe if you would get dressed instead of prancing in here in that”—I slashed a hand in the air—“getup, I wouldn’t be tempted to speak to you in such a manner. As it is, you have made a stellar first impression on my wife.”
Her plump lips that had been artificially inflated with some unknown substance pressed together. Or tried to anyway.
“Careful, Mother. You don’t want those lips to burst. If you press them together any harder, we might have a medical emergency on our hands.”
Her skin paled as she stumbled back at my insult.
“Tristian!”
I glanced at English and couldn’t tell if she was angry or getting ready to laugh. Her lips were also pressed together, but since hers were real, I wasn’t worried. “Sorry, love. My words were a bit harsh.”
“No apology for me?” Mother asked.
“No. By the way, who is your lover?”
A hand flew to her throat as it flushed. “My lover? That is none of your concern.”
“It most certainly is, considering you’re entertaining him in my house.”
She stammered something unintelligible and then recovered. “Let’s get this over with. You came to gloat over your farce of a marriage, so get it over with and get out.”