Page 32 of Hot Momosa

Dahlia

The men in my life have lost their minds. Every flippin’ last one of them. Even Gunnar.

I had no idea when it had happened. It seemed like an all-the-sudden kind of thing, but the testosterone-induced insanity could have been lurking under the surface for quite some time. Like mold in a washing machine—an occasional whiff of something sour until it hit critical mass, and the stench became overwhelming.

All I knew for sure was I needed to get a handle on the situation before one or all of them passed the point of no return. The little guy would be fine once things settled. My father would return to normal once the media calmed down. Robert would fall back in line, eventually.

Leo and Harry were a different story all together.

I planned to set the record straight with Harrison at brunch. Not that I should have to. I’d made my feelings, or lack thereof, known for months. Of course, that hadn’t stopped him from proposing a made-for-the-cameras political marriage.

Despite what I’d told Leo, I knew it’d be a very bad idea to move in with Harrison. Living there had more strings attached than a dozen marionettes. We were friends. Nothing more.

Leo…Leo was complicated.

I’d loved him my entire adult life, and despite our separation, that hadn’t changed. Unfortunately, the circumstances that’d kept us apart hadn’t changed either—not really.

The buzzer rang, alerting me that someone was at the door.

Stuart was on time, but I was running late. I took one last look in the mirror and frowned. In the year I’d known Harrison, he’d never seen me without makeup. Hell, he’d never seen me in jeans and a T-shirt. Our relationship, if you could call it that, had consisted of work, campaign events, and meals with my father and Robert.

Like it or not. He’s going to meet the real me today.

I tucked my ponytail under my ballcap, grabbed my purse, and hurried into the front room.

Gunnar glanced up, took in my purse and shoes.

I braced myself for a million questions and possible tantrum, but he turned his attention back to his miniature cars.

At least one of us is comfortable here.

Leo, Stuart, and a beautiful dark-haired woman stood in the kitchen whispering, but stopped when they saw me.

My mind immediately flashed back to the hundreds of mob-related conversations I’d walked in on during my time with Leo. “Sorry to interrupt. I heard the buzzer…”

Leo forced a smile. For a man who claimed to be out of the mafia, he sure as hell looked like he was up to something shady. “We’re discussing a plan to get you out of the building.”

The woman gave me a once over and shook her head. “It won’t work. I’m a foot shorter, and twenty pounds heavier than her.”

“It’ll work.” Stuart held out his hand.

The woman rolled her eyes, removed her hoodie, and pulled her hot pink T-shirt over her head.

Thankfully, she wore a back thermal top beneath it, but the entire situation bugged me.

Who was this woman and why was she so comfortable here?

“Put this on. Hide the one you’re wearing in your bag.” Stuart tossed the shirt at me.

I might have been slow on the uptake, but I wasn’t stupid. The paparazzi had seen her enter wearing the hideous color. “Let me guess—you’re my decoy?”

“I’m Beth, Stuart’s wife.” She smiled. “And yes, I’ll be your stunt double this morning.”

Leo gave her a sideways hug, stole the cap from her head, and ruffled her hair. “She’s also my dog walker and quasi-personal assistant.”

“That’s nice.” I stormed down the hall to change shirts. I’d only just met Beth, and I didn’t like her. Not at all. Which was ridiculous.

It made zero sense, but I was jealous. And not just a little bit. This was insert-myself–between-the-hussy-and-claim-my-man-like-a-cavewoman jealous.

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