Page 309 of The Billionaires

“Is what true?” Adrian asks.

“Stay out of this,” Sydney snaps at him. More calmly, she adds, “Please. This is between me and Jane.”

I put a reassuring hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “Let us talk. I’ll explain shortly.” To Sydney, I say, “I still haven’t fully processed it myself, but I think it is true… especially when I look at you.”

We stare at each other some more. I feel Adrian’s shoulder tightening further under my hand, so before he can snipe at my sister some more, I blurt, “Tristan is the sperm donor. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you on our way over. I was going to?—”

“He’s what?” Adrian looks like his brain is about to explode.

“My father is her father,” Sydney says to him snidely. “We’re half-sisters. Don’t you see how much she looks like me? You clearly have a type.” She swings her gaze to me. “And I mean that last one as a compliment.”

I guess if you think as highly of yourself as she does, stating that she and I are the same “type” is a compliment.

“What is she talking about?” says a small voice from behind me.

Oh, shit. I spin around and see Mary standing there with her backpack, eyes wide as two quarters.

Right. School is already out.

“Who is that?” Sydney asks, her own eyes widening.

“Why did she say she’s your sister?” Mary demands.

Oh, crap. I guess there’s no easing her into it.

“Mary, this is Sydney, Piper’s mom,” I say in a measured tone. I face Sydney. “This is my little sister, Mary. Like you and I, Mary and I share a parent… but it isn’t Tristan.”

Mary’s eyes gleam with excitement, and in one single breath she rattles out, “You learned who your father is? That’s awesome. And he’s Piper’s mom’s father too? That means you’re Piper’s aunt! Does that mean that I’m also Piper’s aunt?”

I look at Sydney for help with that last one. Strictly speaking, Piper and Mary do not share any DNA, but I don’t have the heart to explain that.

To my utter amazement, the corners of Sydney’s lips lift and—speaking in babytalk for some unknown reason—she croons, “Of course, sweetie. You can be Piper’s honorary aunt.”

“Cool,” Mary says. “But why are you talking to me like I’m a toddler? I’m ten years old.”

“Going on forty,” I add.

Sydney smiles in earnest now. In a normal voice, she says, “If you’re Piper’s honorary aunt, can I be your honorary sister?”

“Yes,” Mary says without hesitation.

Sydney looks my way, her usual haughtiness tempered with uncertainty. “You’re okay with that, right?”

I hesitate, then nod. Because what the hell? Whatever my newly discovered half-sister’s issues are, she does seem to like kids and be good with them.

Or so I assume. If she were a bad mom to Piper, Adrian would’ve likely hired assassins instead of lawyers.

I decide to extend an olive branch too. “I’m okay with it if my mom is.”

And poof—a black Cadillac pulls up to the curb at that moment, and Mom steps out.

Because of course.

“Wow,” Mary says. “Speak of the devil, and she’ll splurge on an Uber Black.”

As Mom walks up to us, she doesn’t seem to be surprised to see Sydney or Adrian here—or she’s a good actress.

“Mom.” Mary points at Sydney. “Can I be her honorary sister?” Looking sheepish, she turns to said honorary-sister-to-be and adds, “What was your name again?”

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