Page 11 of Irresistible Rogue

“Daniella,” she greeted my cousin, air-kissing her cheeks, too.

“Aunt Margot.”

“Come in. You’re fashionably late,mes filles! We’ll be eatingtout de suite.”

Dani subtly rolled her eyes behind Mom’s back as we followed her inside. Mom was not bilingual, but she’d stuff in whatever French words she knew any chance she got. Like the pretentious snob she was.

I loved my mom, but she really was a snob. Our relationship was complicated and hard, but I loved her. I wanted the next five weeks and this wedding to be good for her. When I’d finally realized that there was no stopping it, sometime last year, I’d finally given in and tried to accept it. She loved Jacob Ellis, and she was marrying him.

I could see why, really. Jacob was an amazing man. It really wasn’t his fault that one of his sons was a fucking viper.

“I’m not ready,” I hissed, grabbing onto Dani and stopping her in her tracks when Mom strode ahead, into the living room.

Dani gave me a look, telling me without words that if I didn’t stop acting hysterical she’d seriously consider slapping me.

I let her go. She looked me up and down, utterly unflappable in her pastel-print tulle dress, her beautiful face framed by long, silken waves of butterscotch hair. Dani was nine years older than me and, as always, lightyears more pulled together. Right now she was at once lithe, sexy, dewy and on point in every way, and I shuddered to be seen next to her.

“I seriously don’t know if I can do this.”

“You have all you need in you, Jolie,” she said firmly. “Don’t get stuck in your head, and do not let some asshole climb into it. You’re smart, sweet, fun, weird, and cute as a button. You have cool friends and perky tits. Any man should be willing to get down on his knees to grovel for you. ‘I need you, Jolie. I must have you, Jolie. Tell me what I can do to make that happen, otherwise I will die, Jolie.’ That’s what you should be hearing. Otherwise, you walk. It’s as simple as that.”

She sauntered into the living room, not bothering to wait for my response. Because to her, it really was as simple as that.

I tried to tell myself that she was right and took a deep, non-hysterical breath, following her lead.

Luckily, the only people in the living room were my own family, the Volas. A couple of my aunts and my cousins, all female. There weren’t many of them, but they were damn loud. It was a Saturday, and for years now we’d been gathering on Saturdays, as often as we could, for Vola family brunch.

I only realized now, walking into the familiar noise—all of them talking over one another at once—how deeply I’d missed these brunches while I was away.

Of course, when Mom moved in with Jacob three years ago, they’d become Vola-Ellis family brunches. Which was exactly when I’d decided to move away.

Not a coincidence.

I greeted my Aunt Madeleine and Aunt Marie, two of Mom’s sisters, and my teenage cousin, Charlotte. Dani’s twin sister, Danica, got up from the sofa to greet me and I gave her a hug; my twin cousins were still two of my best friends, and I’d missed them the most.

I was kinda glad that Danica’s men weren’t here, though; I didn’t need to get any more nervous or awkward today than I already felt. Danica not only had two husbands now, but they were both hot as fuck rock stars. She looked exactly like Dani, so you could see how such a phenomenon could come about.

The women in my family were invariably strong, successful, and self-possessed. Not to mention posh as hell. I was the sole exception to this rule, and I was feeling every inch my awkward self today, in the worst way.

“Jolie, would you like a drink?” Aunt Marie offered.

“Thank you, but no. I’m hungover as shit.”

Danica patted my arm supportively.

So much for sparing myself one of Mom’s trademark non-frowns, the kind meant to communicate maximum disapproval of yours truly while doing minimum damage to her dermis. She was sending me one right now, scrutinizing, searching for reasons to nitpick me.

Already.

I’d woken up this morning on Dani’s couch, late, panic ate Nutella, whipped my hair into a ponytail and splashed cold water on my face. But that was about the extent of my preparations for this brunch situation. I was wearing jean cutoffs and a retro Eurythmics T-shirt, the same thing I wore out to dinner and drinks with my family last night. And aviator sunglasses that were now on top of my head, in case I needed to hide behind them.

Before Mom could tear into me about showing up hungover to one of her formal brunches, in last night’s clothes, I pressed on to get this over with. I’d already seen my whole family last night. When my plane landed, Aunt Madeleine had picked me up from the airport. We’d dropped my bags off here and then we’d all met up for dinner. After that, Dani, Danica and I split off to go drinking and catch up properly.

Right now, I just needed to make the requisite appearance, check Aunt Mireille and Jacob off my mental list, and get the fuck out of here.

The shower in the bathroom off my guest room upstairs had my name all over it. As did the pillow I was planning to pass out on for most of the day.

I knew Aunt Mireille would be found wherever the food was; she owned a bakery and catering service and she was always in charge of the food. And since I didn’t see it served up in the adjoining dining room, I knew it would be out in the sunroom at the back of the house, where we often gathered to eat in summer.

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