The Art of Marrying Your Enemy (The Richmond Brothers #2)

5. Daisy

5

DAISY

“… N eed to tell them, Wyatt. ”

“ We’ll do it when Alex… ”

“ … Asked her to come for breakfast. No more excuses. ”

“ I know, I know. ” My father sounded heartbroken.

I paused at the stair landing.

“ …Will kill them. How do I even say it, Peggy? Can’t you do it? ”

“ You’re the one who— ”

“Bracing yourself for a wholesome, gut-busting, healthy breakfast?” My younger brother, Drew, grinned at me as he took the stairs two at a time.

The twins, dressed in ruffly pink shorts and crop tops that I’d never been thin or confident enough to wear when I was their age, stumbled out of their room, yawning.

“Brooklyn. Jordan. One of you needs to tell Mom we want her to go back to her French cooking phase.” Drew rubbed his stomach. “You’re the babies. You’re the favorite.”

“And you’re the only son. You be the one who needs to ask for bottomless hollandaise sauce,” Jordan shot back at him.

The twins fought each other for the best seat at the oversized kitchen island, the one that offered the clearest view out over the rolling dunes to the blue-gray water.

“All right, Mom, I’ve been pregaming Metamucil. Lay that pearled barley and tofu scramble on me.” My brother clapped his hands.

“Drew.” My mother sighed and set an artfully arranged platter of miniature quiche lorraines, and of course...

“Eggs Benny!” the twins screamed. “Love you, Mom!” Jordan and Brooklyn kissed her on either cheek.

Jordan grabbed the pitcher of hollandaise sauce before Drew could.

“I thought you were doing health food?” I frowned.

“Shut up, Daisy,” Drew hissed. “Mom, you’re the best cook in the world.”

“I have asparagus and grilled veggies from the garden,” my mom begged as the twins and my brother loaded up their plates.

“How about some pancakes?” my father offered anxiously, sliding a heaping plate of homemade pecan syrup and a bowl of fresh strawberries from the garden in front of me. “I know you like pancakes and bacon. In a time like this, we need cured pork.”

“A time like what?”

“We just thought you might like a nice breakfast this morning.” My father gulped.

“Oh my god!” Drew clapped his hands over his eyes while the twins shrieked. “I don’t just need a nice breakfast. I need a drink and bleach.”

“None of you are virgins,” Granny Madge said as she came dripping and topless through the French doors from the terrace.

I busied myself with my breakfast, praying breakfast wouldn’t veer into a sex talk.

My mother sighed and gave her mom a hand towel.

“You’ve seen a naked body before. Besides,” Gran added, “the hot next-door neighbor is in town. I want first-mover advantage.”

“Oooh, Daisy! Your not-so-secret crush.” Alex breezed in, carrying a designer tote bag. She wore a sun hat that Aunt Gigi had bought me but that everyone agreed made my cheeks look jowly and suited Alex much better.

My younger sister pulled off her Chanel sunglasses. “Mom, I’m simply dying to try that quinoa breakfast bowl you posted on Insta. I need to go down one more size before my bachelorette party.”

“I wouldn’t.” Granny Madge draped the towel over her head and reached for a plate. “The only place you have to lose is your tits.”

“I’m getting implants.” Alex sniffed.

My mom silently pointed at a pink “No shoes, no shirt, no service” sign.

“Look! Mom’s not making health food anymore.” Brooklyn held up her plate to our sister.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Alex joked with my little sisters. “You’re still fifteen, and you can eat like that.”

“You say that like you’re old.”

“I’m engaged, aren’t I?” Alex preened, running her bedazzled ring finger through her perfect hair.

Yeah, it sucked when your younger sister was getting married before you were. Almost much as when she was more popular in high school than you were. No one in school would have ever given Alex the nickname Dump Truck Daisy. Aaron wouldn’t have humiliated Alex like he did me.

Screw Aaron. Why the hell did he have to be in the Hamptons to ruin my Saturday morning?

Suddenly, I didn’t want to eat my pancakes. I pushed them around my plate.

Mom gave Dad a pointed look. He inhaled his coffee, coughing.

“But we’re having such a nice breakfast!”

“Your father has something to tell you kids.”

“Daddy?” the twins asked in concern.

My dad looked like he was about to cry.

“You’re not sick, are you?” Drew asked, setting down his fork.

My dad burst into tears as we all sprang up and gathered around him.

“For goodness’ sake.” My mother was exasperated. “Coleman Mining is going bankrupt.”

“Oh,” Alex said. “Well, that’s sad, but it’s had a good run. Anyway, Mom, I want you to help me choose a flower arrangement.”

“Alex, seriously? Dad, what about the trust fund?” I asked. “It’s all tied to Coleman Mining.”

“The trust is paying for our private school,” Jordan cried.

“It’s paying for my house,” Drew said. “Dad, are we ruined?”

“I’m so sorry, kids,” Dad replied.

“You’re sorry?” Granny Madge hollered. “We’re in the poor house. None of you have any skills. I told you to marry a tech billionaire, Peggy, not a fourth-generation trust-fund kid.”

“My wedding!” Alex shrieked. “I’m planning a huge wedding. This can’t be happening. We can’t be broke. I’m not getting married if I can’t have a wedding.”

“We’ll be okay,” I said, trying not to cry. “We can sell the house. It will be fine. I’ll quit my PhD program and pick up more shifts at the coffee cart.”

“You don’t have to do any of that,” my mother announced with forced cheeriness. “Because your father has a solution.”

“That will be a first,” Granny Madge muttered.

“What do we need to do, Dad?” I urged, ready to just put this all behind us. If no one was dying, the Colemans would get through anything, right?

The doorbell rang.

My mother floated off. “I bet that’s Mary Ann.”

“Don’t tell her we lost all our money,” Alex wailed. “I don’t want Bee to know.”

From the foyer, my mom made a little gasp of surprise.

“Dad, just calm down.” I was patting his shoulder and coaxing him to drink some water when the temperature in the room dropped about twenty degrees.

The hairs rose on the back of my neck.

“Look who stopped by,” my mother announced from the doorway that led from the dining room.

My dad looked up, panicked. “You’re early.”

My first thought upon seeing Aaron Richmond in my mom’s kitchen, the first time he’d been there since the summer I turned fourteen and not pretty?

I should have put on a bra.

The second? “Dad, what the fuck?”

“I take it you told them.” Aaron’s cold green gaze slid over me.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“You mean tell us that we’ve been sentenced to poverty?” my sister screamed dramatically.

“We are all going to be fine.” My mother took a deep breath.

“You’re buying the house, aren’t you? You’re the new owner, and you’re going to kick us out, and then you’re going to rub it in my face every single day, aren’t you?” I sounded unhinged, I know I did, but Aaron freaking Richmond was in my safe space. “We’ll have to move.”

“Oh, you mean move back to the newly renovated five-bedroom, four-bath, prewar apartment on the Upper East Side that your mom inherited from her wealthy grandfather? Poor little princess. My god, what a hardship,” he drawled. “As if I’d want this house.”

The huge kitchen seemed claustrophobic, with Aaron in his dark suit crowding the white cabinets.

Aaron addressed my father. “Bill wants an answer. He and Natalie want to process the paperwork.”

My dad’s mouth moved, but he only squeaked out a choked, “I’m so sorry, girls.”

“Trust-fund kids are such disappointments,” Aaron sneered. Then he turned to my siblings and me. “In exchange for taking complete and total ownership of Coleman Mining and keeping your family in the pampered luxury you were born into, I will be marrying one of you.” His gaze settled on each of my siblings in turn then locked onto me.

“I’ll marry you, sweet cheeks!” Gran piped up. “Gave you a little taste this morning, didn’t I?”

“There is an age requirement.” Aaron seemed a little apprehensive then recovered.

“I’m already engaged.” Alex wiggled her left hand. “I can’t do it, but one of you needs to,” she ordered. “I already sent out save-the-dates.”

“I will never marry Aaron.” I set my jaw.

“Good,” he said. “You were at the bottom of my list. I’ll take one of your sisters instead.”

Braless state forgotten, I jumped in front of my little sisters, blocking them from Aaron.

“I knew it! I knew you were just like your father. Don’t you dare touch my little sisters.”

My mom and dad exclaimed, “You can’t be serious!”

“There’s a contract,” Aaron said dispassionately.

The twins clutched my arms.

“They aren’t even legal, you fucking pervert.”

“In Alabama, a thirty-year-old can marry a fifteen-year-old with their parents’ permission.” Aaron smiled sharply.

The twins buried their faces against my back.

“I will fucking”—my whole body shook with fury—“kill you. I will kill you while you sleep and dump your body in the fucking sewer.”

“Fine,” Aaron said, “I’ll take your brother, then. It’s the twenty-first century, after all. Gay marriage is legal.”

Drew was about to hurl his eggs Benedict.

“I guess I can…” My brother’s voice quivered.

“No way.” Alex wrinkled her nose. “You need to marry him, Daisy. Drew’s not a homosexual.”

“And I’m not a douchebag-o-sexual! I cannot be bought!”

“We’re going to lose everything!” my dad cried. “Daisy, please!”

“There are other people to think about besides yourself, dear,” my mother chided.

“Yeah, like me and my dream wedding,” Alex interjected.

“There are people with families, widows, orphans, who rely on the money the pension fund provides,” my mother said gently. “We’ll be fine, but they’ll be ruined. Do you really want that on your conscience, dear?”

“Looks like it’s you or your brother,” Aaron said.

“Fuck you. You’re enjoying this!” I longed to punch that stupid smirk off his face. “You live for moments like these. I’ve seen you practically skipping to the coffee cart after you denied some poor person’s insurance policy.” I poked him in the chest.

“I don’t deal with poor people at Van de Berg insurance.” He slapped my hand away. “More like I force the sociopathic CEO of a multinational corporation to his knees, begging for mercy. But yes, I do enjoy it.”

I gave him my best glower.

“Just pick one,” Aaron ordered my father. “I don’t have all day.”

“I—I don’t know.” My father’s skin was pasty gray.

The twins cowered. Alex huffed. Drew looked shaken.

“I—” my little brother rasped. “I can do it.”

Aaron pulled a little round jewelry box out of his pocket. Extended his hand. “It’s only thirty-one days.”

As much as I didn’t want to be chained to him, I couldn’t and wouldn’t let any of my siblings marry Aaron. Wouldn’t let him hurt them like he had me.

I slapped Drew’s trembling hand as it reached for the box.

“Fine,” I spat out, “I’ll marry you.”

Aaron’s mouth turned down when I snatched the box out of his palm.

“But I’m going to make sure it’s as painful and miserable for you as possible.”