“I don’t give a fuck what he thinks or says about me.”
Erin glanced at her husband, who sat next to a cousin further down the table. I introduced myself to Oliver earlier at the party, but he refused to acknowledge my existence. Ignoring what I’d just said, she continued rambling shit. “He said Alistair would never marry trash. That you’ll never be one of us. Once a slut, always a slut.”
Oliver was therealtrash. He wouldn’t know what an equal relationship was, even if it hit him in the head. He married Erin because of her looks. How shallow.
“Wow, you’re running out of insults. Slut-shaming? Really?” I fired back. “By the way, where is Camilla?”
“My daughter is asleep in the guest room upstairs with her nanny.”
“She’s a beautiful little girl,” I forced the words to come out of my mouth.
“I know. She’s like her father,” Erin grinned with the sly satisfaction that cats wore on their faces when they stole cream.
“She is a gift,” I replied.
“I’m a lucky mother. Well, you do know how babies are made, don’t you?” Erin mocked. Her eyes narrowed at mine while she gloated in her little victory.
“Grow the fuck up,” I snapped. “I’m with Alistair. Get used to it.”
Erin’s brown eyes narrowed, snake-like and unblinking. “Fine. Stay, then.” Her voice dropped to a hiss. “You’ve just declared war.”
Saph, who sat across from me, widened her eyes. The pram with my sleeping nephew was parked behind her. Julian and Alistair sat further down to the right, near John, while my mother and Elizabeth were seated with Damian on the other end, to the left.
“Hi, I’m Sapphire, Vera’s friend.” Saph extended her hand over the table to shake Erin’s hand.
“Erin Everton-Scott. Nice to meet you, and Merry Christmas.” Erin shook Saph’s hand. “By the way, is your friend, Vera, always this rude?”
Saph’s icy blue eyes drilled down on Erin as her grip tightened. “Vera is rarely rude unless someone is either stupid or crazy. So, are you stupid, or are you crazy?”
Erin winced, letting go of Saph’s tight hold. She laughed nervously in a poor effort to regain her composure. “Brr, is it getting cold in here?”
“I can’t get a moment of peace without drama in here,” a haughty voice hissed with a hint of anger.
I glanced to my left at a lush woman in a tight, floral outfit, which accentuated her curvy hips and ample breasts. Her thick, dark curls gathered on her left shoulder and were held together with an intricate gold clip. I wondered who she was.
“My name is Bianca,” the woman announced as if she could read my mind.
“I’m Vera,” I said with a smile.
“I’m glad we’ve met,” Bianca said enthusiastically. She grinned as if my name were music to her ears. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Alistair.”
“Oh?”
“He and I have been friends for a lifetime. We?—”
“Bianca and Alistair are friends with benefits,” Erin interrupted, glaring at both of us, then laughed. “What? Didn’t you know? Bianca is Alistair’s high school sweetheart, to whom he lost his virginity back in the day. Why do you think she’s here? Did you really think you were that special?”
“Erin, enough,” Bianca snapped, her voice edged with authority. Then she turned to me, her eyes softening with something close to pity. “I’m only here because my husband and I are friends with the Scott family.”
“Where’s your husband, Bianca?” Erin fired.
“That is none of your business,” she replied curtly.
“See, Vera? You’re not special to Alistair. You’re a dime a dozen,” Erin taunted, smirking like a bratty schoolgirl.
“Alistair told me you mean the world to him. He’s fiercely protective of you,” Bianca whispered into my ear. “Ignore Erin. She’s a pain in the ass for the Scott family.”
I laughed softly. “I’m glad we met. I love your dress, by the way. It’s gorgeous, very Parisian chic.”
