Page 219 of Mayhem and Minnie

“Everyone, here comes Marlowe and his girlfriend, Minnie,” my mother cuts me off as she announces our arrival to everyone.

“Fiancée,” I correct her automatically.

Minnie elbows me in the ribs.

The drawing room is filled with people. Giles is standing by the window, a glass of scotch in his hand. Around the piano are my little sister Irene and my younger brother Cristopher, both fooling around with a cacophonous tune. Irene is twenty, home from college, while Cristopher is six years younger than me and still living with my mother.

Ah, yes, if you’re wondering about the math, you would be right to be suspicious. I’m pretty sure Irene is Giles’s daughter. I have my suspicions about Cristopher too. My mother never admitted to it publicly, but he looks far too much like Giles did in his youth for it not to be the case.

A few close friends of my mother’s are sitting at a table, chatting. They only look up as they see us enter, and their expressions immediately turn sour.

They don’t like me. They never did.

They assume I’m the black sheep of the family, when in fact, a better contender for that role would be Cristopher. He doesn’t even have his own place, for fuck’s sake. And aside from his trust fund, he has no other income. He’s jobless, useless, and a whole slew of other words ending in -less.

But the actual black sheep of the family is none other than my older brother, Julien. Whereas I have a rather amicable relationship with Irene and Cristopher—as in, we exchange a few words once in a blue moon—I haven’t spoken with Julien in years.

Speaking of the devil. Didn’t Mother say he’d bring over his fiancée to the party?

A smile pulls at my lips as I realize I might have stolen his thunder by announcing Minnie as my fiancée. Ah, brotherly feuds. How I missed them.

I scan the room until I find him. He’s talking with two of our uncles from Mother’s side while a timid woman stands a few feet behind him, her body language orientated entirely toward him. He’s wearing a slick tuxedo, his dark hair combed back. In his hand, he has a pipe that he keeps puffing with gusto, the pretentious bastard.

He’s supposedly a renowned surgeon, but Giles and I know the amount of malpraxis lawsuits he’s managed to get out of over the years—all due to good legal representation, not a lack of guilt.

“Fiancée? And you didn’t tell anyone?” My mother turns to me, her eyes wide.

At that moment, everyone stops what they’re doing and becomes focused on us too.

Minnie digs her nails further into my arm to express her dissatisfaction with my proclamation, but I ignore her.

“Yes, Mother. Minnie is my fiancée. We’ll be wed soon,” I declare and plaster a smile on my face.

She clasps her hands together in happiness as she hurries to hug us both again.

“This is the best birthday present, Marlowe. You have no idea how much it pleases me to know you’ve found such a lovely girl.” She smiles at Minnie.

“Thank you,” Minnie murmurs abashedly. “Your warm welcome to the family means so much to me.”

She’s so diplomatic even though five moments ago she was ready to have another go at me.

“Of course, darling. Oh my, I have to go tell Giles about this,” Mother exclaims as she rushes to the other end of the room.

Warmth spreads through me at seeing her so happy. She might be annoying as fuck, but she’s a sweet lady. After what she’s been through, she deserves nothing but happiness.

Mother is gesturing excitedly at Giles, and as he meets my gaze from across the room, he gives me a nod of approval.

I wink at him.

But as we step farther into the room, whispers abound around us as everyone speculates on Minnie’s appearance, her face covering, and her status as my fiancée.

Julien notes my arrival and he turns to us, his eyes narrowed. Grabbing the woman behind him, he makes a beeline for us.

“Marlowe. I didn’t think you’d come,” he mentions in a faux cultured voice.

“Mother’s birthday is the one occasion I would not miss.”

“And this is…” His eyes go to Minnie as he studies her from head to toe.

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