Chapter 21
LILA
Before I even reach the bathroom door, it opens. Ally’s hand darts out, wrapping around my arm as she pulls me into the room with her.
“What the hell’s going on out there?” she whisper-yells.
I sigh. Talk about an eventful first morning living here at the loft. “Fisher’s parents were meant to come into town this weekend, but they showed up early because his dad found out we bought the firehouse out from under him.”
Poor Fisher. The way his dad looked at him was like he was sizing up a bug he wanted to crush sent a chill through me. Everything inside me wanted to hug Fisher. But I held off, not wanting to make the situation worse for him.
Ally nods. “I thought that might be the case. Noah’s so overprotective, he made me stay over here while he went to investigate who was in our house yelling like that first thing in the morning. Are you okay?” Her brown eyes widen as she looks at me. “What happened to your face?”
My fingers follow her gaze and find a tender spot on my forehead that pulses under my touch. “I ran into the wall.”
“How?”
“Um, I was trying not to look at your almost-naked boyfriend and an equally almost-naked Penn.”
“Your loss.” Ally shoots me a saucy grin, and despite myself, I laugh. “You’re going to have quite the bump on your forehead. Let me see if I can find something to help.”
She begins rummaging in the cabinet under the sink, and I take the opportunity to look at myself in the mirror, which I promptly regret.
I wince at my reflection. The first glimpse the Fishers got of their new daughter-in-law, and my hair is witchy and full of static.
My eyes are crusty with sleep, and I’m wearing tiny little pajama shorts with a…
“Oh, shit!” I exclaim as I realize with horror that the sweatshirt I grabbed is one Zane and Alastair got me as a gag gift for my birthday. It’s forest green with a picture of two birds on the front, sitting perched on the slogan, “GREAT TITS.”
Kill me now.
“What?” Ally pops her head up from where she’s still digging in a drawer.
She’s wearing silky lilac pajama pants and a cropped white camisole.
Her skin is glowing, and her golden hair is pulled up in a perfect messy bun—how does she look so perfect first thing in the morning while I look like I've walked right out of The Grudge?
I nod down at my offending sweatshirt. “Please tell me I didn’t meet my husband’s snobby, billionaire parents for the first time wearing something that says great tits on the front?”
There’s a long beat of silence before she erupts into giggles. “You totally did, and it’s amazing.”
“No, it’s so, so bad,” I moan.
Ally stands and hands me a tube of arnica cream, still laughing. “On the bright side, they’re only going to be your in-laws for a year. After that, they never have to see you or your great tits again.”
“Well, thank heavens for that.” I put a dab of cream on my finger and tentatively rub it into the lump forming on my forehead. I probably could have made a better first impression on them by naked cartwheeling across the apartment. At least I would’ve appeared coordinated.
“Are they still out there?” Ally glances at the door.
“Sadly, yes. That man is terrifying.” I shudder at the memory of his face. “I thought the vein on his forehead was going to burst. Is he always that horrible to Fisher?”
“I don’t know…I’ve never properly met them before.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Really?”
“I mean, I saw them at his granddad’s funeral, but neither of his parents spoke to any of us that day.
” Ally turns toward the mirror and grabs a tube of mascara that’s sitting on the counter, then rises onto her tiptoes and leans forward as she begins applying it.
“They’ve never come to one of Fisher’s games or visited the loft before today.
The rest of us have had family come visit multiple times, but until today, nobody from Fisher’s family has stopped by.
” Ally makes a face at me, and the heaviness in my chest intensifies as she adds, “Even when his parents were in town a few weeks back, they didn’t come in to meet us when they picked Fisher up for the gala. ”
Not for the first time, I wonder how someone so kind, so good, could have come from those unfeeling people who only seem to care about themselves. Fisher must have grown up feeling so unwanted and unloved by them.
“I want to go back out there and do something to help, but I have no idea what.” I move next to Ally in the mirror and start using my fingers to comb my tangled mane. She passes me a hairbrush, and I gratefully accept it from her.
“Hey, are you girls decent?” Noah’s deep voice comes from the other side of the bathroom door.
“We’re dressed, if that’s what you mean.” Ally grins at my sweatshirt. “Questionably dressed, but still dressed.”
The door opens, and Noah slides into the bathroom, followed by Penn, who hurriedly shuts the door behind him. Thankfully, both boys are now wearing sweatpants and T-shirts, so I don’t have to worry about where to look.
“Holy shit, Fisher’s dad is one scary motherpucker,” Penn hisses under his breath.
“What an asshole,” Noah mutters as he comes to stand behind Ally and loops his arms around her. He rests his chin on her head, his brow scrunched.
“What’s happening out there?” I ask, knowing Fisher has likely been alone with his parents a million times before, but I don’t like the idea of him being alone with them now. “I wish we could do something to help.”
“Same.” Noah’s eyes are troubled. “Fisher was doing so well, refusing to meet with the broker, but Mr. Fisher wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Somehow, the whole conversation ended with him ordering us to get dressed so they could talk about it further…
I honestly think their plan is to force Fisher to sign over the firehouse. ”
“And probably kick his heathen roommates out of the loft.” Penn smirks. “Fisher’s mom was looking at me like ninety percent of her wanted me arrested and locked in jail, but the last ten percent wanted me to be the one to handcuff her.”
“Penn!” Ally cries.
“What?” He grins. “I can’t help it that the older ladies love me.”
“Wait…what if that’s it?” Noah asks.
We all look at him.
“The way we can help Fisher,” he adds.
Penn’s face slackens in disbelief. “I’m not seducing Fisher’s mom, Downsby. I’m taken. And also…gross. What kind of person do you think I am?”
“No, you idiot. I meant, what if we go back out there and try and win them over. Make them think we’re not a bunch of delinquents and take some of the heat off Fisher.”
“Pretty sure that ship’s already sailed for me.
” I wince as I remember how they ignored my greeting, acting like I wasn’t there.
“They didn’t even care that their son was married—without even looking at me, they decided our marriage could be quickly annulled.
I’m just some random pawn in a game Fisher was playing with them. ”
I get the feeling Louis Fisher the Fourth will stop at nothing to get what he wants, and I can’t help but remember Fisher’s comment at dinner last night about his suspended trust fund.
It would be so easy for his father to offer his son renewed access to that as incentive to do what he wants.
Hell, I’m sure he could offer Fisher double what he was meant to receive in his inheritance to just…
sign the whole thing over and walk away from this tangled mess. Away from me.
I hesitate before asking, “Do you think Fisher will give in to their demands?” The ugly thought of how disposable I could be taunts me.
Noah shakes his head. “No way. He doesn’t want to placate them. He made this plan because he wanted to stick it to them for trying to control him.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. I think Penn and Noah are right; Fisher won’t back down easily and give up the firehouse. He won’t let himself be bought by his awful parents. I trust him.
I choose to trust him.
“Makes sense. I’d feel the same if I were him.” Penn lifts a shoulder. “So in that case, how do we have Fisher’s back right now?”
My first instinct would have been to go out there and have the conversation Mr. Fisher wants to have.
Use that time to do everything we could to convince Mr. and Mrs. Fisher our marriage was real, and not write me off so fast. Perhaps even come to the conclusion that their son wasn’t playing games and was serious about purchasing the firehouse.
But whether his parents like it or not, Fisher and I really are married.
We do pose a real threat to Fisher Group’s plans.
Fisher met the conditions of the will, and the inheritance should soon be his to do what he pleases, as long as they don’t start digging too much…
which means the best way we can help right now is up our game.
Throw a curveball to deflect from the situation at hand.
And in doing so, we can do for Fisher what he always does for the rest of us: we can make him feel better by making him smile.
A devious smile dances across my reflection in the mirror. “Let’s screw with them.”
Out in the living room, Mr. Fisher is pacing back and forth on the rug, face still pinched with silent anger.
Mrs. Fisher is hovering at the edge of the sectional, like she’s trying not to touch anything lest her pristine outfit get sullied.
Harry Styles the cat is sitting right behind her, slow-blinking contentedly in that way cats do when they know someone hates them.
My husband is sitting next to his mother. He’s dressed now, wearing a Lions hoodie and athletic shorts. His face is the picture of casual and breezy, but when he looks up to greet us, I don’t miss how his hands are tensed on his knees, knuckles white around the edges.