Page 107 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
I stared at my phone.
“What are you doing?” Julian asked, peering over. “Who’s Cleopatra’s Tomb?”
“That’s a long story,” I said slowly. “And I’m not really sure how to explain it.”
“Is it my sister?” Hazel said, putting two pints on the table in front of us. “I had dinner over there earlier and an advert for a Cleopatra show came on and she cracked up.”
I grimaced. “Yeah. Please don’t make me explain it.”
“No, I need you to explain it.”
“I’d really rather not.” I’d had a long enough day without going into that again. “Do you know what she’s doing?”
She paused, holding her gin glass to her lips, and narrowed her eyes. “Why? What are your intentions with my big sister? I won’t stand for you hitting it and quitting it, you know. She and I might be in the middle of a fight right now, but I’ll still hit you.”
“Why are you fighting?”
“We’re sisters. We fight over toilet paper if there’s nothing else available.”
In other words, Hazel had another crazy last-minute wedding idea and Sylvie told her where to shove it.
I raised my eyebrows. “So, you were both being unreasonable.”
“Sylvie is always unreasonable,” Hazel grumbled. “But don’t think I’ll forgive you if you mess with her.”
“I think Sylvie can take care of herself, honey,” Julian said, fighting back a laugh and ending our back-and-forth. “Especially against this guy.”
He could say that again.
“I was only asking,” I replied.
“She has a call with a client,” Hazel said, finally putting me out of my misery. “I give it ten minutes before she’s here, because she said she’s a complete bridezilla. If she even comes.”
“I’m so glad you aren’t like that.” Julian wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head.
Mm. I’d heard enough of Sylvie’s complaints to think that statement wasn’t necessarily entirely true.
“That’s because Sylvie hit me with a bridal magazine,” Hazel grumbled. “Right on the head. Like five times.”
“If it works, it works.” I shrugged.Pretty sure it didn’t, though.
Hazel shot me a dark look. “Why do you care what she’s doing, anyway? Are you sure you didn’t do anything to her the other night?”
“What exactly could I have done to her?”
“I don’t know. Asked her out?”
“And risk my life? No, thank you. I’m too young to die.”
Julian snorted. “She’s not as hostile to you as she was. She used to wrinkle her face in disgust if your name was mentioned, but now she doesn’t even bat an eyelid.”
“That’s not true. Nana asked if she had a good night last night, and she blushed. That’s why I want to know what he did to her,” Hazel said, pouting.
I held up my hands. “I didn’t do anything to her.”
Well, not really.
“There was nothing more than a badly placed bet on my behalf,” I settled on.
