She clacked across the wooden floor in a pair of dusky rose heels, and her burgundy peplum top gave her tall frame the illusion of curves. When she reached us, she ignored me and gave her mother an irritated glower. "You summoned me?"
I couldn't help myself. I allowed a grin to crack across my features. That had been the most Knox question ever. Sylvia's back straightened, and her lips pressed into a prim line before she said, "Arabella, darling. I'm glad you could make it. Arabella, this is Gemma, your brother's fiancée. Gemma, I'm pleased to introduce my daughter, Arabella."
I stood and held out my hand. "Nice to meet you, Arabella. Knox mentioned he had a sister, but he doesn't keep pictures of actual people around, so this is the first I've seen you."
Arabella surveyed me with suspicion but took my hand. "Good to meet you. What did Mother threaten you with to make the wedding happen? Unreasonable loans? Nationwide scandal?"
I pulled in my lips to keep from smiling. I loved this chick already. "Eviction, kind of," I replied blandly.
Sylvia made a scandalized, wordless sound, and Arabella let a smile spread across her frosty, stunning features. "Ah, the obvious one. Sorry to hear about it." She gave her mother a cold look. "So, we're choosing invitations for this charade?"
Sylvia appeared to struggle to maintain her composure. "Yes. We were just perusing our options."
"Okay, well," Arabella checked her smartwatch, which in contrast to her refined appearance, had a worn leather band I'd expect to see on a man, and its surface had been cracked and still had dirt particles on it. "We all know you're just going to choose the one you like, so why don't you save us some time andtellus both what you want." She spared me an apologetic glance. "Sorry, but you don't get to pick. Just roll over and let the woman have her way."
I coughed out a laugh, and Sylvia slapped the invitation she'd been holding down on the table. "Arabella Rose, you are out of line. I invited you to be part of the wedding party and participate as the maid of honor. Have you no shame?"
"Maid of honor?" I asked, giving Arabella a questioning glance.
"Apparently," she muttered, her gaze projecting certain death for her mother. "Was I not your first choice? Shocking."
So. Neither Knox nor his sister were fans of their mother. Interesting. "Okay," I replied slowly. Trying to marginally smooth things over for Knox's sake, I said to Sylvia, "I truly am alright with whatever you like. Is that your favorite style?" I pointed to the white bread equivalent of a wedding invitation.
Sylvia smoothed a well-manicured hand over its surface. "Well, yes. I did get here an hour before you. I thoroughly inspected the selection, and this is both elegant and understa—"
"Perfect." Arabella cut off her mother and put her sunglasses back on her nose. "I feel accomplished. Do you feel accomplished, Gemma? Let's get some lunch."
"Arabella, really," Sylvia scolded, standing stiffly.
Arabella scrolled through her phone indolently. "Where do you want lunch, Mother? I wouldn't dream of choosing anything for you."
I rolled my lips between my teeth. My God. Knox's sister was even more ruthless than he was, if that was possible. Was it genes or had they grown up so disgusted with their parents, they'd both lost patience with them years ago? I had to suppose it was a combination of the two. But if that was the case, why had Arabella shown up here at all? I smelled a story.
"Fontine's, thank you," Silvia clipped out. She gathered her purse and black peacoat, her demeanor clearly huffy. "I will order these and meet you both at the restaurant."
"I'll ride with you," Arabella said to me carelessly, still swiping through her phone.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. It wasn't often I found someonemorebold than I was. Fucking Rooks. Finally, I gave her a squinty-eyed look. "You're not going to fall in love with me, are you? The last time I was forced into a small space with a Rook, he fell for me."
Arabella looked up from her phone and gave me an appraising once-over. A spark of admiration warmed her icy eyes. "You're not my type, Shortie."
I bubbled out a laugh. "That's what Knox said about Spencer."
"Oh, well," she rolled her eyes and slid her phone into her beat-up, brown leather purse. "Theo isn't anyone's type. That boy is insufferable."
We made our way out of the boutique as Sylvia spoke with the employee about placing an order for the invitations, and I slid a sideways look Arabella's way. "Spencer seemed pretty nice to me… until he played me to get back at Knox."
"That's exactly why he's a pain in the ass," Arabella replied, clearly warming up to me faster than I'd initially suspected she might. Maybe it was just her mother she disliked, and to everyone else, she was perfectly nice. "He can't ever take anything seriously. And if he likes you?" She slid her glasses down her nose to give me a pointed look. "You're fucked. And not in the fun way."
"Yeah, I can see what you mean," I agreed, bobbing my head in thought. "You know a lot about him. Have he and Knox been friends for a while?"
"For life, more like," she grumbled. She pushed open the door and held it for me. "They've been friends since high school."
"What? I had no idea. Knox acts annoyed by him all the time." I zipped up my white winter jacket to ward off the chill of theday, and we exited onto a main street, walking past Jack-o’-lanterns and bales of hay that decorated the charming shops.
"Probably because he's more of a brother to Knox than anything. Trust me. Knox gets hella annoyed with me on the regular." She ran her hand through her pink curls, sighing. "And on that note, I'm sorry you're clearly being forced to join the family. Condolences."
I placed a hand over my heart. "I appreciate that. Truly. It's been a trial."
