Page 239 of The Billionaires

“Ah,” Grandma says. “Yes. The one who popped Jane’s cherry?”

“Eww again,” Mary whisper-hisses.

And how the hell does a ten-year-old already know what that means?

“Yeah, that one,” Mom says. “He’s Jane’s fiancé now.”

“He built Jane a fence?”

Is she just messing with us now?

Mom snatches the phone and puts it very close to her mouth. “They’re getting married. He proposed today.”

“Oh, goodness!” Grandma exclaims. “What a wonderful surprise! I guess sometimes they still do buy the cow, even after getting all that milk for free.”

“Eww?” Mary whispers.

“I love being compared to a cow, Grandma, thanks,” I say with an eyeroll. “Or is it milk?”

“Don’t get snippy with me!” Grandma shouts. “Georgiana gave it away, and look what happened. Twice. You and Mary should know better.”

Mom looks like she’s been slapped, and I resist the urge to smash the phone into pieces. Grandma is usually kind, which makes it all the more shocking when she blurts shit like that out loud—especially since it’s not even true in the case of Jack, Mary’s father. He and Mom did get married, but then they got divorced in a year, so to paraphrase the horrid proverb, Jack bought the cow but returned her for a refund, regardless of all the milk.

“Well,” Mom says, her voice exaggeratingly upbeat. “We’d better go. There are plans we need to make.”

“Wait, when is the wedding?” Grandma demands.

“We just got engaged today,” I say. “We haven’t talked about the wedding date just yet.”

“Good,” Grandma says. “That means you’re not knocked up.”

Miss Miller thanks goodness two ladies are involved in this exchange, or else it would be pistols at dawn.

“Okay,” Mom says. “Have a good night.” And with that she hangs up.

Mary sighs and looks at Mom. “How long before you also go senile?”

I pinch her. “Grandma is not senile. She’s uncouth.”

“Don’t say that,” Mom says sternly. “Only I’m allowed to complain.”

“Fine,” Mary and I say sullenly in unison.

“Now,” Mom says. “Let’s celebrate Jane’s engagement.”

CHAPTER 14

ADRIAN

A video call notification shows up on my phone.

It’s Sydney, so I pick up immediately, as this is usually my chance to see Piper, even if it comes at the cost of interacting with her mother.

Piper appears on the screen first, and as usual, when I see my little girl, I feel my chest squeeze painfully and fill with joy, all at the same time. It’s something about the little toes and fingers. And the chubby cheeks.

Sydney pulls her back and smiles, sapping the moment of some of the joy.

Seeing my ex-lover, I want to cringe, but I keep a friendly demeanor. Sydney inherited her Barbie-like looks from two generations of trophy wives, and on top of that, she takes care of herself with a vanity-driven obsession. She’s lost all the baby weight quicker than anyone thought possible and is sporting what looks like lip injections, which probably explains why she hired a wet nurse the other week. Objectively speaking, she looks good. Unfortunately, she’s too shallow to understand that it’s not her physical appearance I find unmarriageable—it’s the rest of her.

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