"I forgot you were doing that culinary thing. How's it going?"
"Hit or miss,” she muttered with a frown on her face. “Don't fret, I managed to do this one justice." Violet’s frown tipped up into a smile before a chuckle slipped out when she noticed my worried expression. My wife decided to take classes to learn how to cook better because she said she didn't want our kids – when we finally had some – to think their mom was totally inept. Violet's cooking ability was truly hit or miss. Either she made the best meals ever or the worst and there didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason as to why half of them failed so spectacularly.
"You were gone early this morning. Anything I should know?"
Violet tensed but then shook her head. "I just needed to get out and go finalize some things for an event I'm planning."
"I didn't realize you'd taken on another event. What is it?"
She waved off the question like it was an annoying fly that persistently buzzed her. "It's nothing major. Just helping one of the ladies with a private soiree she's throwing."
"Hmm.” The questioning noise fell from me without me realizing. "You thinking of expanding into an actual business and not just planning for the charitable fund committees?"
Violet shrugged but didn't otherwise answer.
"It's probably not the best time to work on a business startup when we're trying to get you pregnant," I suggested.
Violet huffed a sound of frustration as she began to stir the sauce with more vigor. "I'm just doing her a favor, not trying to take over the world,” my wife snapped.
"Hey, no need for that," I shot back. "You never told me you were doing anyone a favor, so all I'm left with are assumptions."
"You're right. I'm sorry." Violet's shoulders slumped in what appeared to be defeat. I almost felt bad except everyone seemed to be lying or trickling variations of the truth to me lately. Unfortunately for my wife, she was the only one, besides my assistant, who I could usually talk to about my frustrations.
"Could have sworn I saw Moreland this morning outside that new bakery you were raving about a few weeks ago."
Violet's back snapped straight again. "More is in Florida."
"I thought so, too, but he's not answering my messages or calls, and I'd bet my annual salary it was him. He tried to duck out of sight as if he didn’t want me to know he was there.”
Violet laughed, but something about it sounded off – forced almost. "Why on earth would your cousin need to hide from you?"
"That's what I'd like to know but I can't get his ass on the phone long enough to ask."
"Well, you know what they say. Everyone has a doppelgänger out there. Maybe you just saw More's."
It was weird that she didn’t even wonder why he would be out of contact. Violet had just finished prepping our meal, so I let it drop while she plated food for both of us. Something felt so off about our whole interaction, and I had an odd suspicion that her weird behavior might somehow be connected to Moreland's. Fiona's cheating red flag theory came to mind, but I quickly dismissed that thought. Neither Violet nor Moreland were capable of that kind of betrayal – especially not with one another.
Still, worry festered and ruined my appetite. As I sat down to dinner with my wife, I had to force myself to eat even though it was one of the better meals she had made. I knew the taste should be amazing, judging by the quick sample I took of the sauce when I first walked in. Instead, it felt like I was chewing on sawdust when all I could think about were the warning signs both my wife and cousin flashed my way constantly.
Chapter 3
Violet
"Sorry for the cloak and dagger stuff, but I swear to you, living with Ridge is like living with the CIA lately.” Moreland laughed before he put a forkful of baked tuna in his mouth.
“Speaking of which,” he scooted my chair closer and held his phone out. “We need to take a picture for my fiancée before she thinks I’m up to no good, too.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled for the selfie he took of us. “Tell Gabby I said hello, and I’ll call her soon. All this secret party planning is stressing me out.”
“Maybe, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to tell him you’re planning a party.”
“No!” I pouted. “It’s the one thing I’ve heard him say he wanted that I know for sure no one else can pull off. Come on, Moreland. What are the odds that my husband married a woman who loves to plan parties, and he just so happens to want SOMEONE to plan a surprise party for him one day? It already felt like fate when we met. This is even better.”
“You’re trying for a baby and stressed to the max with all this cloak and dagger shit, as you put it,” Moreland pointed out unhelpfully. “I’m sure that’s not helping things along.” He mentioned the last while pointedly looking down toward my belly which he couldn’t see because I was tucked up to the table.
Lunch soured in my stomach as I pulled the binder out that had all my planning ideas in it. I decided to ignore his concern and carried on as if he had never voiced it. “We have the cake nailed down, and it will be delivered to the house while Fiona keeps him busy at the office. I’ll have to transport it to the park from there.”
Moreland snorted out a half-laugh. “Sorry, Vi, but you’re the only woman who wouldn’t be afraid of that statement. I’m not around all that much, since I’m stationed in Jacksonville, but even I have seen that Ridge’s assistant is gagging for him to notice her.”
