“Ah.” So, as usual, Ella ran to her mom to sob and wheedle her way out of trouble she’s in. Big fucking surprise. My eyes slide toward Yuna. She’s going through some clothes my personal shopper Jill dropped off while we were out. Then I look at the Band-Aid on her leg. Whatever mercy I might’ve mustered for Chantel’s sake vanishes.
“She’s under a lot of pressure right now.” Chantel’s voice is soothing. It’s a tone she knows works well on me. “She’s trying to plan a once-in-a-lifetime event.”
But all I’m feeling right now is irritation and anger. “I’m trying to ensure her attacking my employee stays a once-in-a-lifetime event as well,” I say stiffly.
“Is there any way we can come to some sort of compromise? Maybe she can go over there and ask for forgiveness? She’s willing to apologize to you.”
Oh for fuck’s sake. Chantel trying to make things right for Ella only annoys me more. And I don’t need a fake apology, especially if it comes with a price tag of fifty thousand bucks. “I’m not the one she should say sorry to. She attacked my assistant.”
“Okay, to Benedict, then.”
“No, Benedict’s on leave. I have a temp right now. Ella attacked her and left a gash on her leg. It could scar.”
Chantel makes a distressed sound. “I… I had no idea. Ella didn’t tell me that.”
“Ella doesn’t tell people a lot of things.” As if that’s going to make everyone think she’s never done anything wrong. But it’s the only way she can manipulate her mother into calling me to have this awkward conversation. Since I hate having to turn Chantel down, my resentment for Ella shoots up. Forget the goat sacrifice. I’m going to offer up an entire animal farm!
“So…” Chantel clears her throat delicately. “Is there any way you can forgive her?”
When I’m deader than Al Capone’s accountant, yeah, sure. But I bite my tongue. Yuna might have a different idea. And since the person who got injured is Yuna, she should get a say.
“Hold on a second.” I pull the phone away and turn to Yuna. “Yuna, Ella wants forgiveness. What would it take?”
She turns to me. “I don’t know. Why are you asking me?”
“Because she hurt you. The decision should be yours.”
“Oh. Well…” Yuna considers for a moment. “I think it’s best if we never see each other again, don’t you? Maybe she runs the other way when she sees me. I think that’d work quite well.”
“That’s all you want?” I say. I expected more vindictiveness. Most women would
squeeze a little harder. “You don’t want her to lick your boots or something?”
Yuna makes a face. “Ew. No, thank you. I don’t need rabid saliva on my shoes.”
I laugh a little, then force myself to get serious as I go back to Chantel. “I can be lenient if Ella never, ever comes near me or my employees ever again.”
“Your employees, maybe, but you? You’re her brother! And how is she going to avoid you at her wedding?”
Chantel was there when Ella told me I had to come to her ridiculous wedding. And when I flat-out rejected the idea. Did that idiot tell her I changed my mind? “Easily, since I won’t be there.”
“What?”
“I don’t know why you sound so stunned. I said I wasn’t coming.”
“But… I thought that was just out of anger.”
“Chantel, I’m still angry with her. She broke into my home. She screamed and yelled and got violent. She embarrassed me—and you—because my assistant is definitely wondering how she was raised.” I lay it on thick. Chantel hates being embarrassed. Maybe she’ll be embarrassed enough that she won’t listen to Ella’s bullshit anymore. Or call me to change my mind.
“But who’s going to walk her down the aisle?”
“Don’t know, don’t care. I’m sure she’ll figure something out.” If she can’t, she should get a tattoo on her forehead that reads, I’m dumber than a lab rat, and I also throw away puppies because I’m a bitch like that.
Chantel inhales sharply. I know what that means. She’s going to start a long talk to convince me. Since I hate saying no to her, it’s best not to even let her begin. “Sorry, but I have an appointment. I gotta go now.”
“But…”
“I hope you like roses,” I say, doing my best to avoid we’ll chat later, because that would be a lie.