Page 61 of A Very Addicted Christmas

#TodaysLeaks #TheCondomBroke #OopsieBaby #poundtown

PUTTING ASIDE THE horrendous hashtags, I can’t imagine a worse leak tonight. Pregnancy rumors are easy fodder for the media, and with my niece’s recent dating history, it’s likely going to stir up an uncontrollable shit storm.

Ryke is also going to shit another brick. He should’ve shit rusted knives for making this romancemessierthan it needed to be, but according to my youngest sister, he’s come around and seen the error of his ways. He’s never been that terrible at owning his mistakes. I think sometimes I can be worse at that.

Regardless, from all the facts I’ve gathered, I can confidently say that right now Sulli is publicly dating Banks, but she’s had aprivatebreak-up with Akara. The world, however, still believes a Royal Leak that advertised how Sulli is dating twomen at the same time.

So this new Plan B leak is salacious.

Whoever this disgusting rat is, they know what they’re doing.

Even as I look at my phone, Carissa Cole still prattles on about Dalton Academy like her pure love is being a PTA mom. She’s also one of Cobalt Inc.’s top investors, which is why I’vebeen tasked with keeping her occupied and happy at the investor gala tonight.

A task that I am acing with flying colors, I might add.

It’s almost too easy. Carissa could talk to a fucking wall and be mesmerized. I shift on my heels, careful not to catch the hem of my floor-length inky black gown. The sweetheart neckline is accented by a diamond choker necklace and waterfall earrings from the Cobalt Diamonds Anniversary collection.

Carissa stops her venting about the rest of the Hockey Moms and glances at me and then my phone. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Just the Royal Leaks wreaking more havoc through my family.

Thinking about these cesspoolrodentscauses ire, and I need my face to look welcoming and noton the verge of grabbing a pitchfork. I readjust my expression into something that doesn’t screammurder.

I click my phone off but keep it tight in my grip. “Maybe you should be PTA president, Carissa. At least your ideas sound marginally more interesting than another fucking bake-off.”

She grins. “Cheers to that.” She raises her champagne flute.

I do the same and we both take sips.

My eyes flit to the left side of the expansive venue: the top floor of a high-rise in Center City that Cobalt Inc. rented for the night. Servers wander around with hors-d’œuvres made by a James Beard award-winning chef. Fairy lights dangle from the walls and ceilings, and every guest will leave here with one of the blue Cobalt Inc. gift bags that line the table at the door.

It’s a schmooze fest where kissing ass is the name of the game. What my husband excels in and what I find repulsive but unfortunately necessary. To be clear, I won’t be doing the ass kissing. I’ve glared at more people tonight than I have all year—and I will go home without a morsel of regret. Connor doesn’texpect me to be on my knees and kiss the feet of his investors. I can be me, but I wouldn’t miss this gala. I’m here in solidarity after all.

I take another small sip of champagne, still looking for my husband in the masses.

“So I was thinking,” Carissa muses as soon as I spot Connor. His slimming suit molds his fit build, and he’s towering above most heads—his gaze pins to me in a serious note.

The Royals Leaks.

He read it, too, then.

He’s on his way to me when Carissa continues, “With my Nicholas and your Audrey in the same grade, it’d be just lovely if we could set them up together. Don’t you think?”

My eyes flame, my body heating. I’d rather run barefoot over hot coals than set my children up to date someone I deem acceptable. I want them to make their own decisions on love, even if it comes out of left field. Unless they ask me for dating help, I will be on the sidelines. Forcing myself to be nothing more than a spectator.

“So what do you think?” Carissa asks and her head swings to my side. “Oh…Connor, just in time.”

“Yes, just in time,” I say dryly, my tone like serrated ice chips as I take another large sip of champagne.

“In time for what?” Connor looks between us, and his gaze stays longer on me, probably noting the current fire burning in my eyes.

I swallow the bubbly liquor. “For us to ponder whether we should set up our daughter with Carissa’s son,” I say into an edged smile and finish off my drink.

“It would be a divine pairing,” Carissa grins, not registering my tone. “The Coles and the Cobalts. A union matched for the gods, don’t you think?”

I almost choke on my champagne.

Connor stares flatly. “While interesting, Carissa,” he says calmly, “I don’t consider any of my children property that I can bargain away for favor.”

---