Is that all you got?
“Ah, the hit couple the press can’t shut up about,” the man says, approaching us, his words cold and calculating.
“Brock,” Phoenix says.
“I thought you’d be on your honeymoon, König, not working a room,” the man I know now as Brock says. “I read all about you tying the knot. Neither MC nor I could believe it. Mister Single Forever settles down.”
“Oh, we’re friends now?” Phoenix says. “Pardon me, I didn’t get the memo.”
Brock shakes his head. “Man, you hold a grudge.”
A harsh sound comes from Phoenix’s lips. Not a laugh. More like contained derision. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
I’m going to take a wild guess here. These two hate each other.
“Let it go.” Brock smirks. “Festering all this anger and animosity could be detrimental to your health, König. You should be careful. After all, heart problems run in your family. You wouldn’t want to end up like your old man.”
Brock’s nasty retort hits me like a slap in the face. Judging from Phoenix’s deadly expression, I’m not the only one. If looks could kill, Brock would be six feet under right now. Phoenix’s jaw is locked so tight, I fear he’ll shatter his teeth.
“Watch your mouth, Brock.” My husband’s voice is low and laced with a warning.
I’m sure cursing is frowned upon at an event as elegant as this one, but Phoenix’s eyes scream,“Fuck you, asshole.”
Brock turns his attention to me. “And you must be Phoenix’s new wife. Since your husband seems to have left his manners at the door, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Brock Litoris and this is my lovely wife Marie-Clémence Pisier-Litoris,” he says, gesturing to the bitch by his side.
Brock Litoris. The name doesn’t ring a bell, but this close, I’m certain I know this guy.
Think Mikki.
I’m too distracted by those outrageous last names to figure out how I know him. Litoris and Pisier-Litoris? Seriously?
Marie-Clémence offers a tight nod in lieu of a handshake.
Fine by me.
I respond in kind, my smile as fake as hers.
“You can call me MC,” the bitch says in a pronounced French accent. “So many Americans can’t manage proper English, let alone another language—one as rich and complex as French. Your school system is such… a failure.” She purses her lips in disdain. “The new generation can’t write or read cursive anymore. Such a tragedy. All that to say, Marie-Clémence can be so challenging for most.”
I’ve never wanted to bitch slap a woman this much in my life.
“En ce qui me concerne, j’ai étudié pendant deux étés à Nantes, donc je parle un français plus que correct. Votre nom ne sera pas un souci pour moi. Marie-Clémence est très facile à prononcer.”I put the condescending woman back in her place.
Translation:I studied for two summers in Nantes, so I speak French. Don’t worry about me. Your name won’t be hard for me to pronounce, Marie-Clémence.
Her eyebrows hit her forehead.
She’s flummoxed.
You didn’t see that one coming, bitch.
Brock doesn’t hide his shock.
I glance up at Phoenix and smile wide.
He manages to school his expression, but his arched eyebrow and the tilt of his lips betray him. He’s pleased I one-upped snooty Mrs. Pisier-Litoris.
There’s so much we still don’t know about each other.
