11. Tee
Tee
“ Y ou’re only saying this dress because it’ll look better on you and then you can borrow it.”
I plaster my hand to my heart. “Do you think so little of me, Parker?”
Via video call, our BFF snorts. “Hell to the yeah.”
I rub my nose with my middle finger and flip her the bird.
“I can see that.”
“You were supposed to.”
“Can we stop bickering?” Zee whines as she plucks at the ruching around the waist. It’s borderline giving ‘90s prom,’ but it is great at giving my skinny BFF some hips.
Through osmosis, Parker and I agreed to lighten Zee’s mood. Not only does she hate shopping, she hates clothes shopping even more. Throw in the fact that she’s about to become a recognized face in the press… Zee is not a happy camper.
“You can always say no to this,” I tell her softly, spying the discontented moue on her lips as I curve my arm around her shoulder.
Parker chimes in, “Their family, their problem.”
Zee turns into my hug. “They’re my family too now.”
“Sure they are, but if this is something you can’t handle, then Colt will fix it. You know he will.”
I’d already overheard him giving Callan shit when Zee rescheduled our shopping date for the, wait for it, seventh time. In a single day.
That master class in eavesdropping is one of the reasons why I forced Zee out today. A part of me knew she’d put up with the PR stuff to protect the family, but also because I saw the schedule Callan had come up with.
There’s an interview with the press, but there are charitable galas, private functions, some political fundraisers, and even a movie premiere. Her wardrobe wouldn’t get her through one event in Pigeon Creek, never mind this fancy stuff. And as much as I have a lot of LBDs that I used to wear on stage, my dresses would drown her skinny butt.
Thus far, the meager offering of clothes she’s purchased won’t get her through the week either.
Crisis mode activated.
Zee stops plucking at the ruching. “He did fix it.”
“How?”
“Told me I didn’t have to do anything.”
Parker clicks her fingers. “Knew I liked that man. So, why are we shopping in this snooty store?”
I grimace because I get it. Callan suggested this store, saying it might be a one-stop shop for what we needed, reducing the torment to a single establishment. But right now, the staff are such snippety hens that I’m a sneer away from bitch-slapping one of them.
“Because I’m a Korhonen.” She straightens her shoulders. “And if the roles were reversed, Colton would do this for me.”
“Dunno if he’d go dress shopping for you, babe,” I tease.
She hides a smile. “Anyway, it’s just a few events, right?”
A few? No. More like a dozen. In a short space of time.
“The news is even hitting the US papers. Clyde’s apparently a massive contributor to that Brackton Foundation that’s been kicking up such a stink these past couple years. Naturally, people aren’t happy about the connection with a murderer.”
Zee huffs. “Colt told me.”
“That’s why you came today?”
“That and tomorrow, a journalist is stopping by the house,” she says wryly.
“I think you’re a good wife and he’d better get you something nice as a thank you.”
At Parker’s declaration, Zee rolls her eyes, but I tack on, “He can’t dick her down anymore, Parker. She’s already walking like she’s been on a ten-day horseback-riding trek.”
While Parker hoots, Zee’s smug smile hits differently. Her confidence doesn’t exactly soar, but it shimmies higher up the ladder, making her tilt her hips toward the mirror as she stops fiddling with the waistline at long last and gives it more consideration.
“I’ll take this one,” she declares.
Parker’s brows lift. She makes a circle with her thumb and pointer finger and sticks the other digit through it. As I nod, she silently whistles, making me grin.
(If I circle my hips and bump air, that’s between me, Parker, and the mirror.)
“I have eyes, you know,” Zee grumbles, but amusement tinges the words.
“Pretty they are too.”
Her chuckle draws the attention of one of the sales associates, and any joie de vivre that thinking about Colt’s cock gave us has Zee sniping, “If that bitch sneers at me one more time, I’m going to lose my shit, Tee.”
I glance at the woman in question. She checked out my non-designer purse when we entered the store and the moue of distaste she gave Zee’s linen tote told us we’re lower than pond scum to this priss.
“We’re nearly done,” I soothe, but I still reach for my cell and text Callan as Zee stomps over to the changing room and strips out of the dress.
“They give everyone else Champagne,” Parker comments as I start typing.
“No, they don’t.”
“Look around!”
I do.
And ugh, she’s right!
Deleting my original text, I send:
Me: Why the fuck did you recommend this place? They’re treating us like the fungus in a non-winterized pool, Callan, and we’re spending enough that they shouldn’t care where our postal code is!
Callan: Ugh, really? I’m sorry. Mum used to shop there.
Me: She did? Also, what made you think we should shop where your mom did?
Callan: Because it isn’t 1984 and stores have to keep up with the times or they close lol.
Callan: I checked out the website. They stocked everything I figured she’d need.
Callan: I’ll find some other places.
Me: This is my home city, Baby Cowboy. I’ll figure it out.
It can’t be that damn hard. I might not have been to Saskatoon for a long time, but Maps is my friend.
Callan: Keep me updated about your location. I have someone scheduled to pick you up, but he can’t if we don’t know where you are
Me: I am a genius, you know? I managed to figure that out for myself!
Ignoring him now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I tug on the curtain. “Zee, we’re going to bust out of this joint.”
Her brows lift. “But I need clothes.”
“You do, but associating with these assholes won’t get you anywhere in life. Babe, let’s face it,” I snipe. “Callan wouldn’t know how to appeal to the public if they offered, en masse, to sleep with him.”
“Be nice.”
“Callan is hot, he’s rich, and he’s smart, and some lucky chick is going to benefit from my education one day, but he needs to leave this to me.”
She snorts. “Because you routinely know how to appeal to the mass market?”
I pop my hip. “I can do anything I set my mind to. So, let’s get away from the snitty, snotty, snippy Sasquatches and do this our style.
“The Korhonens treat the Seven Cs like Olympus and we mere mortals gasp whenever they deign to visit the town. We know how to be normal. They don’t have it in them.”
“No, they don’t,” she muses. “Man, that’s hot.”
“I never said it wasn’t, but the goddesses always get a worse rap. If he’s Zeus, then you’re Hera.”
She gags. “Not Hera! Anyway, he’s not Zeus. Colt would never cheat on me.”
“True. Maybe Clyde’s Zeus then.” At that exact moment, a rumble sounds outside, making my eyes flare wide as lightning spears the sky.
“Oooh, you pissed off Zeus. That’s all we need,” she teases. “A lightning storm.”
I scrunch up my nose at her. “You know I’m right. This fancy shit will make you fit in with fellow gazillionaires, but this whole thing is about smoothing over the fact their father is a murderer. Dressing up will only make people think you’re one of them.”
“One of who?”
“Pod people.”
Though she snickers, she mutters, “I need a fancy dress for some of the events.”
“And we can make it fancy in clothes that everyday people wear by mixing and matching labels.”
Her gaze turns dubious. “I have to blend in, babe. This is already my idea of hell. If people turn up in twenty-million-dollar diamonds, as much as I love dresses that cost less than a hundred bucks, I’ll stick out like a sore thumb. I-I don’t want to embarrass Colt.”
“Bitch, you did not just say that!”
Her bottom lip gets sucked in between her teeth. “I mean, I?—”
Before she can finish that sentence, I swipe through my contacts for Colt’s number and hit connect.
“What are you doing?!”
“I’m fixing this right now.”
“What’s going on?” Parker cries. “I can’t hear anything!”
Wafting a hand at Zee’s tablet, which is leaning on a chair so Parker can watch her shop, satisfaction fills me when Colt picks up. “Tee? What’s wrong?”
“Tell the woman who’s too good for you that she could show up to an event in sackcloth and you’d still think she was the sexiest bitch in the room.”
“What?”
“Colton! Tell her!”
“Umm, baby, you there?”
“Yeah,” Zee murmurs, her voice tiny.
“Sweetheart, you have to know that you’ll steal my breath in whatever you pick. Is that why you’ve been stalling on shopping?”
“No, that’s because shopping stresses her out, but I’m here to make sure her blood sugar levels are A-OK,” I declare. “Tell her that she doesn’t have to wear designer dresses to fit in.”
(Come on, Colt. I know there’s a brain in there some-damn-where!)
“You don’t have to wear designer dresses to fit in,” he repeats. “Wear whatever the hell you want.”
I click my fingers and mock-whisper, “Ask if he has diamonds.”
“Diamonds? Sure, I have diamonds.”
“There!” I beam at her. “We can dress you in shit you’ll look snatched in, shit that’ll make people think you’re not Hera, and we can jazz it up with twenty-million-dollar diamonds.”
“Why are you comparing my wife to Hera? Wait! Does that mean you compared me to Zeus?”
Zee bursts out laughing. “Colton! That was not the take-back you were supposed to offer from this conversation.”
“But, sweetheart, Zeus?! Seriously. That’s Clyde. Not me.”
“I told her that. Now, you go back to doing whatever it is you’re doing, and I’ll get some clothes so you can drape me in diamonds that you can fuck me out of.” Then, like a girl boss, she purrs, “Later, cowboy,” and cuts the call.
I hold out my hand for her to fist bump. “Truly, you’re a goddess.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Duh, of course I do,” she says while bumping my fist.
“If you insist, but next time, don’t use the wedding ring hand.” I wiggle my fingers. “That rock hurts.”
She peers at her engagement ring. “Sorry. I forget it’s there.”
“Considering it’s the size of Ontario, I don’t know how you can.”
I snag her hand to stare at it. Gems aren’t my thing, but I had to look up the stone because Colt didn’t go the usual diamond route so I was curious.
Their beginnings might have been contracted, but the second I saw her engagement ring, I knew there was more to their relationship than met the eye.
A dude who hated his future wife bought her a generic, golf ball-sized diamond.
“You know this is worth half a mil, right?”
Her brow puckers. “What?”
“It’s Brazilian alexandrite.”
“And?”
“It’s rare and costs a fortune.” I nudge her side. “Think that says a lot about how he pictures you.”
She gapes at it. “You mean to tell me I’m walking around with a house on my hand?!”
“In today’s real estate, it’s more like a shitty teardown.”
“Tee!”
“What? It’s true.” And I know she likes it because the thing about Zee? She can’t hide shit from me without her CGM telling me the whole tale.
Her throat bobs. “H-He gave me this when he hated me.”
“He never hated you. I saw that on his face when he came to pick you up in New York the day before your wedding. Anyway, what future spouse who loathes the ground you walk on flies all the way from the backend of beyond to NYC to ferry you to your home province?”
“I figured he thought I’d run...”
“Lies,” I scoff. “You were never going to run. You’re too decent for your own good.”
“You make that sound like a crime.”
“It is when you have zero self-preservation skills, but it’s fine. I have them in spades and I got your back, sweetie. Now, text Hercules—” I peer outside, on the hunt for another rattle of thunder. Thankfully, Thor and Zeus have decided to play nice despite being entirely different sets of gods. “—and tell him that you love him. I’m sure it’ll put a smile on his face.”
When she turns bright pink, I grin at her and step away from the cubicle.
“What’s going on?” Parker whines.
“Oh, stop being a big baby. We’re ditching this dump and heading out onto the open road.”
“And I’m the dramatic one.”
On the brink of telling her she’s all that and more, my cell buzzes.
Callan: Don’t leave the store without looping me in on where you’re going.
Me: We’re going to the nearest mall, but here’s my live location so you know where we are at all times
Callan: I don’t think the mall’s wise
Me: It’s a mall. Not Riker’s Island
Callan: Do you know how many ways there are to kidnap someone in a mall?
Me: No one knows her yet
Me: Which is a side of this plan you didn’t reckon on, huh?
Callan: Of course I did.
Me: As soon as her face is known to the public, she’s in danger. You better be upping their security.
Callan: Duh. But this isn’t on me and it isn’t on these interviews. People are pissed at Clyde. Lots of crap is coming out of the woodwork.
Me: Like?
Callan: Business deals he’s fucked up, men he’s screwed out of money. Anyway, I would never risk Colt’s or Zee’s safety. We’ll have bodyguards for whenever she and Colt leave Pigeon Creek
Me: Because danger never enters the town limits?
Callan: A strange face is noticed, and hell, you know how they treat outsiders in this town.
He has a point.
Me: I can see them loving having a security team
Callan: Tough shit. What with Clyde’s peccadilloes, everyone needs it.
Callan: Colt won’t argue when it comes to protecting Zee. Sure, the company’s image matters to him. It’s his legacy.
Callan: But he’s all about her safety.
Callan: Anyway, he has to fix things so when they do have a kid, that poor little fucker can be plagued by it too.
Me:
Callan: In fact, you need to talk to Zee. Get her used to the idea of having more than one because that poor kid will need siblings who do most of the work while he goes and rides his horses
Me: *snickers*
Me: Don’t lie. You love doing his work
Callan: Isn’t he lucky? Lol
Me: Hella lucky.
Me: Hey, you tried to charm that girl yet? My patented program works every time.
Me: Satisfaction guaranteed *waggles eyebrows*
Callan: I don’t want to talk about it
Oooh, gossip alert.
My antenna well and truly pricked, I vow to discuss this Eloise girl with him later when I’m whooping his ass at Mario Kart .
“Who are you texting?”
I glance at Parker. “Callan.”
“Colt’s baby brother?”
“Yup. He’s pretty cool for a dweeb. Better than Tony, who sucks ass. Do you know what my dipshit sibling suggested? He was all, ‘you should come and live with the fam until you find someplace in town.’ As if I’m going to leave the ranch when?—”
“Colt apparently has a veritable treasure hoard of jewels.”
I blink at Zee’s interruption. “How very Long John Silver of him.”
She smirks. “Okay, what’s the plan?”
“We get you sexified.” I snag the back of the dress in her hands and peer down at it. “I got the brand name so we can buy this one when we’re home.”
“We could buy it here.”
“You want to support the Sasquatches?”
“True. We’ll buy it online.”
“You want to come with, Parker?”
“Nah. I have some work to do. But I want pictures!”
“You got it.” Zee peers at the tablet. “Speak later, Parker.”
“Peace out.”
Once the call ends, Zee tucks the tablet into her tote and Chief Sasquatch steps over to us. “Excuse me, ladies, but it’s store policy to check our client’s purses from time to time. I’m sure you understand that we can never be too careful.”
Zee barks out a laugh as I gape at the assistant.
“Sasquatch, are you for real?!”
(This woman’s face needs to meet my fist. Stat.)
“Sas-what?!” the snooty store attendant shrieks.
(Unfortunately, I’m a law-abiding citizen. Dagnabbit.)
“You’re doing a random bag check on us—I think I can insult you as much as I damn well please. Damn audacity,” I grouse before declaring for the whole store to hear: “It’s not as if there’s anything worth buying in this damn hellhole anyway. Those dresses are so last season, and you’re selling them as if they’re hot off the catwalk.
“But sure, treat me like a criminal when you’re the thieves.” Without waiting for a reply, I upend my purse and let everything fall out then waggle it until it’s empty. I study the mini mountain of crap as if it’s the most interesting pile of trash I ever did see. “What do you think, Zee? Did I steal those red heels you liked? The ones that were two years off the runway and from the brand that got canceled last year?”
“No, Tee, I don’t see anything in there at all,” she simpers.
I pick up my wallet, the lip gloss, and chewing gum I stored in there as well as the notepad I use to jot chords as and when they strike alongside my favorite pebble of rubellite, but the rest, I leave on the floor because, admittedly, it’s mostly empty wrappers.
“Your things!” the woman stutters once Zee holds open her tote that’s fully loaded with the shit she needs on the daily to manage her Type-1 diabetes.
“Oh, it’s fine. I needed a clear out anyway,” I drawl. With that, I slide my arm through Zee’s. “Come on, honey, let’s go drop some mega bucks where the attendants make the ones in Pretty Woman look polite.”
As we stride toward the exit, the security guard shoots me an amused glance as he opens the door and gently wafts us out.
Not rudely, but like we truly are Athena and Artemis.
“I think he shared our opinion of her,” Zee derides as we stalk down the sidewalk like the Witches of Bitchwick we are.
“Damn straight.”
“Though, you shouldn’t have left that stuff on the floor.”
“Nah, it was mostly tissues, junk food wrappers, and lots of other crap I should have tossed out ages ago.”
“Ew.”
“Exactly,” I say around a chuckle, grinning at her when she pinches my arm.
“God, I’m glad you’re here, Tee. Only you’d have the guts to do that.”
“Good thing I’m not regular.”
She sighs in delight as she snuggles into me. “Yeah, thank fuck you’re abnormal. Now, come on, Joan Rivers. We have a closet to fill.”
Grinning at the comparison, I tug on her arm. “It’s okay if you change your mind, you know?”
“About what? The PR stuff with Colt?” She shrugs. “I know.”
“Then why are you going ahead if you hate it?”
“The promise of a fabulous orgasm?”
“You get those anyway.”
“It’s petty.”
“All the better,” I crow.
“A very small, very peevish, very stupid part of me wants to say fuck you to the town. I want them to see me dripping in gems, and I want Harry to go silent when I come in for butter tarts. I want them to know that the no-good McAllister is hella rich now and that she helped the Korhonens.”
I hum. “I get it. I think the rumors are out anyway.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Nonna. She mentioned something, so I’m guessing the mutual nature of your deal has struck a chord with everyone.”
“Yeah, because they probably thought I was after his gazillions,” she says bitterly.
Though I wince on her behalf, I squeeze her closer to my side because I sense what she so desperately wants and what I’ve had access to my whole life—acceptance.
“If they do, then they know you’re flat out in love with one another.”
“Knowing the cynics, they’ll still think I’m a gold digger.”
“They won’t learn any differently if you never leave the ranch, babe. How can they see you’re not a no-good McAllister if you don’t show them?”
“I shouldn’t have to!”
“No, and it’s not fair, but…”
“But what?” she grouches.
“They need to prove themselves to you too.”
“Hardly!”
“Sure they do. You’re a Korhonen. That comes with power. You can make or break businesses with your support. You can fire people who treat you badly. They need to prove they’re not assholes. But no one will ever do that if you barely leave the ranch.” I tug on her hand. “Just think about it. For me?”
She huffs. “Fine.”
“Come on. You need a glow-up.”
“Charming!”
“You know what I mean,” I tease, because while my keeping-it-real idea might fall flat on its face, I don’t think it will.
And seeing as my best friend deserves the world, she’s lucky because Colt can buy it for her and I’ll make it happen.