Page 6 of Love You Truly

“Questionable. But what’s your point?”

“We’re partners. Your inheritance is to be shared with me as your husband.”

I laugh. Clearly, he’s gone ‘round the bend.

“You are not my husband.”

“Not in deed, but in spirit. That’s how your parents see it. They’ve explicitly retained me as supervisor for all the property you inherit.”

“What the actual fuck?” I wish he didn’t get my goat, but I can’t help it. Even if he’s lying, it’s too much to bear.

“Partners, Mal. We’re going to be partners.”

“Okay, first of all, assuming what you’re saying has any remote possibility of being true, what makes you think I need you as my partner?”

He runs a hand through his hair, or at least he tries. There’s so much gel holding it in place that his hand gets stuck halfway through, and he has to extricate his fingers. “You’re going to inherit a big responsibility, and you’re going to need help.”

“Says who?”

A laugh barks from him. “Anyone who knows anything about business.”

“Great. I’ll find one of those people if I need help.”

“Be serious, Mal. This could really work. I’m good on the business end, and you could keep up appearances and be the face of the place.”

“Wow, thank you for allowing me to be the ‘face’ of my own family business, one I can’t possibly run without your help.” My sarcasm and the slight shake in my voice betray my attempt to act like I’m immune to Felix’s implication that I need help. I hope he doesn’t notice, but from the way he licks his lips, I feel like the prey of a puma who just cornered his dinner.

That’s the problem with being married to a person. Even though it didn’t last beyond a year, our marriage allowed Felix to know things about me that other people don’t. The guy isn’t especially observant, but he eventually learned how to read when I’m bluffing my confidence.

It doesn’t happen that often and shouldn’t be happening now. I’ve put in the work, and I will soon have a degree to prove it, but if I breathe a word to Felix about my business chops, he’ll find a way to sabotage me.

“Your parents are looking out for you. Making sure you have someone with your best interests at heart—and theirs—to help you manage all of this.” He spreads his arms wide, and I vow to do whatever it takes to make sure he doesn’t manage a postage stamp-size piece of dirt.

“If they told you that, you should assume questionable mental health. Nothing would be binding.”

“I have it in writing. And they’re fine. I should know. I spend enough time with them.” He says that last part with an eye roll, and it hits me for the first time that this has been his plan all along—or at least since the divorce—to sweet-talk my parents into keeping him around.

“This isn’t happening. I’ll talk them out of it. You can forget about whatever little megalomaniacal plan you’ve concocted. The day we got divorced was the day you lost any claim on this land.”

He tries again to comb his fingers through his hair. Again, they get stuck, and now his hair stands up like a cock’s comb. Appropriate.

“I’m playing nice for now and offering to include you, but I don’t have to be a good guy.”

“You couldn’t possibly be one, so we’re on the same page there.”

He licks his lips again, and I wonder why he’s salivating over an opportunity he’ll never get. If he fooled my parents with his cocky smile, I’ll talk them right out of it. I’m their only child. They’ll side with me.

Right?

Turning for the house, I leave Felix standing on the driveway without indulging this conversation further.

Grabbing my phone, I tap the app for our garden sprinklers, which I should have gotten fixed a while ago. They have a habit of spraying the driveway instead of hitting the flowers.

A second later, I hear an aggravated shout when they douse Felix’s shirt and stupid hair.

A few seconds after that, I hear a car tearing away from the property. Good. Only place for a bad penny like him is under the heel of my designer stiletto shoe.

CHAPTER 3

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