Page 2 of Can't Take My Eyes Off You

The right thing? Why am I getting the feeling I’m in the dark on something everyone else can see?

I tiptoe to the den door to eavesdrop – I’d say it’s allowed considering I heard my name – but the room is suddenly silent. Maybe Will killed him? If so, bravo, boyfriend. Let’s bury this bitch. I’m kidding. Mostly.

What would they do if I slid the door open and made a drama-filled entrance, standing up for myself and my man, acting shocked to discover they hate me with the passion they do?

‘William.’ His mom, Melinda, says his name sternly. ‘Do not make us pull the plug on your trust.’

‘Go ahead and pull it!’ Will yells. ‘You’ve been threatening it for years so let’s get it over with already.’

They’re threatening his trust again? That’s it. I’m standing my ground and Will’s. I can’t let them continue to treat him this way. They never do this to Mike and last I knew he bought a small yacht just to party on; it literally never leaves the dock it lives at. Will doesn’t deserve this. I step forward, reaching for the door, ready for battle. I can do this. Will’s my best friend, and he’d never let anyone talk to me the way they’re currently talking to him.

Ding-dong– the front doorbell echoes through the massive home.

‘I’ll get it!’ I yell, even surprising myself – the voices on the other side of the den door suddenly silence again. I’m being a coward, I know, but me interrupting wouldn’t have done anything but given them more ammunition against me. That’s the last thing Will needs.

A bit defeated and honestly a little relieved, I walk through the foyer, pulling open the front door to faces I don’t recognize. An older woman, dressed as fancy as they come, pulls her designer sunglasses to the tip of her nose, peering over the top, disapproval plastered all over her tight face.

I glance down at myself, following her line of sight. Black tank top, check. Gauzy white sleeveless blouse unbuttoned but tied at my waist, check. Cut-off jean shorts, check. Black flip-flops, check. I’m completely dressed, with everything in its place – no obvious faux pas.

‘Whereare the rest of your pants?’ the woman asks slowly, like English might not be my native tongue.

‘They’re shorts?’ I say, equally as slowly to match her asshole-ism. ‘Are the Adlers expecting you?’

‘Probably more so than you,’ the woman says with a haughty laugh. ‘Who are you?’ Even her tone irritates me. She pushes past me. Her three overdressed companions follow, making their way into the home like they’ve been here before.

‘I’m Berkley, Will’s girlfriend.Who are you?’

The youngest woman stops, doing the same peep over her sunglasses.Please, woman. Judge me through your dark lenses like a normal human–no need to make it a show.

‘You’reWilliam’s girlfriend?’ she asks, the hint of a laugh in her voice as if something about that is funny. She stops before me as I close the door behind them.

‘Guilty.’

She lifts the sunglasses from her face, revealing big blue eyes and a splatter of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Jesus, she looks like a real-life Disney Princess with her long, platinum-blonde hair braided over her shoulder. Her disapproving gaze travels over me, stopping with a smirk as her eyes meet mine again.

‘Enjoy that spot, honey, because William’s about to move into his grown-up life. Which means childhood puppy love will be left at the pound.’ Her eyes dart over me once again. ‘Where you belong.’

What?

I grunt in offense, but words evade me. Who is this woman, and how does she look so sweet on the outside? I look her over for anything insult-able, but she’s flawless. Short minidress, higher than high heels, legs as long as a giraffe’s, zero visible cellulite, and a waist so tiny I’m sure she’s got a Kardashian-recommended drawer full of waist trainers in her closet. Damn it. She’s gorgeous.

She bats her long fake lashes, waiting for me to respond to her little dig. I have to findsomething. I look her over again. Maybe that waist trainer will suffocate her – wait. I lean to the side, noticing the junk in her trunk.

‘Whoare you, andwheredid you buy that ass?’ Eh, not my best material considering her ass is actually perfect, but it’ll do.

She smirks, completely unoffended.

‘I’m Felicity Harper, thefutureMrs William Adler. And I pay money to have a beautiful man at the gym sculpt this ass.’ She fishes around her oversized bag, pulling out a business card and shoving it my way. ‘Looks like you could use a session – or thirty.’

Whatis this woman’s problem?

‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ I hand the card back to her. ‘I don’t need it because Will adores my ass exactly as it is.’ I pretend like she doesn’t bother me. But she does. I’m bothered.

Finally, with an uninterested sigh, and a dramatic roll of her eyes, she walks away from me.

‘The future Mrs William Adler,’ I groan, repeating her words under my breath. ‘The balls on this bitch.’

‘Dinner!’ Sylvia yells through the house.

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