Page 40 of Her Wicked Husband (The Huxleys #2)

Fiona

The single slice of pizza I nibbled on sits like a congealed lump of cheese and dough in my belly. Bryce, on the other hand, seems completely relaxed despite having eaten half the pizza.

“Is your stomach feeling okay?” I step out of the black Maybach he chose to take us to the dinner and lay my hand in his.

“Yeah. Why?” He peers at me. “Is everything okay?”

“I guess.” It’s probably just my anxiety. Bryce told me about the people I’m going to meet during the drive, but instead of soothing my apprehension, it only made my stomach churn worse.

How much do they know about our past, or the situation with Zoe? Everything? Nothing? I should ask, but every time I open my mouth, the words get caught in my throat. They probably won’t like me or approve of our marriage…assuming they don’t hate my guts already.

Bryce’s parents’ home is large and has an opulence that says money without appearing vulgar or overly materialistic.

Next to the circular driveway in front of the main entrance is a small parking section for staff and visitors.

A silver Maserati and a black Cullinan occupy two spaces.

Although there are two more empty spots next to the cars, a red Lamborghini is parked sideways, blocking both.

“Yes!” Bryce says with a small fist pump.

I look at him. “What?”

“Aunt Jeremiah’s already here. Which means we’re free to leave whenever.” He points to the Lamborghini. “That’s her car, and she always parks like an asshole. Although if you tell her I said that, I’ll deny it to my last dying breath.”

I make a zipping motion across my mouth.

He grins, puts a hand at my back and escorts me inside through towering double doors. A massive tapestry hangs from the ceiling in the spacious foyer. Against the dark navy background, silver wolves snarl around a shield. Underneath are block letters.

“Pietas et unitas,” I murmur.

“Loyalty and unity. The family motto,” Bryce explains. “We live by it, we die by it. Family is everything.”

“It was also on the cane in your house.”

He nods. “It’s custom made. Every Huxley gets one when they’re born. A kind of welcome-to-the-family gift.”

I take a moment to look at the coat of arms. If I were truly a Huxley by marriage, seeing PIETAS ET UNITAS would make my heart brim with joy. A painful sense of loss slips below my breastbone until it hurts to breathe. I can never have what the motto promises. I’m not worthy of it.

The wide hall that connects the foyer to the dining room has several windows facing a garden on one side, and displays of earthenware on the other.

Each holds an intricate flower arrangement done in a style I’ve never seen before.

The complete opposite of Sherry’s preference of placing as many flowers as possible, the ones here have only a few flowers arranged in interesting lines and shapes.

But they command a kind of focused attention that Sherry’s don’t.

The more steps I take, the more my gut twists. Foreboding grows until I feel like I’m about to hyperventilate and faint. Oh my God, don’t faint! Talk about making a spectacle of myself.

It’s just one meal . I can take a few bites and smile and praise the delicious food.

That should hopefully make Bryce’s stepmom not hate me too much.

As for his dad… I’m not sure. He’s a lawyer.

So is his aunt. Everyone at Harvard has heard about the Huxleys for having been some of the most outstanding alumni.

There’s even a scholarship in their name for promising prelaw and law students .

Cold sweat slickens my back as Bryce and I reach the long table where seven people are already seated. I recognize Ares, and Josh of course, both of whom are in three-piece suits and regard me like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of their priceless, hand-stitched Italian leather shoes.

This does not bode well.

At the head of the table sits a surprisingly ageless woman—although from the looks of it, she has to be the grandmother and head of the family, Catalina Huxley.

The woman’s hair is glossy black and knotted at the base of her head.

A bit of blush adds some color to her otherwise smooth, pale skin.

Her dress is also black—like she’s attending a funeral.

To her left is a man who has to be Bryce’s father Prescott. The man’s sizable and imposing—I see where the brothers got their height and width. His eyes narrow and his lips purse. Yup, definitely hoping to rip into me.

A woman who must be the much-spoken-of Aunt Jeremiah is in a black pantsuit, a lit cigar in her hand and a glass of whiskey in front of her.

She puffs out a perfect smoke ring as we enter, her eyes sharp as she scrutinizes me.

The only person at the table who merely blinks with mild curiosity is a pretty blonde—Lareina, Ares’s wife, in a lovely pastel-green dress.

It’s nice to have one person who maybe doesn’t feel so terrible about our marriage.

An Asian woman in a gorgeous cream-and-pink kimono with intricate sakura embroidery comes over.

She’s petite with eyes that crinkle when she smiles.

Fresh flowers pin her updo, and her spine is straight without looking stiff.

Although she isn’t a classic beauty, there’s feminine charm to her that’s irresistible.

“Bryce, you horrible child. You didn’t even invite us to your wedding! Is this your lovely wife?”

He nods. “Fiona.”

“Fiona?” Akiko gives me a polished smile. “What a lovely name. Mine is Akiko.”

“Nice to meet you.” The pizza’s churning hard in my gut, but I manage an acceptable smile that doesn’t scare her away. Don’t throw up, don’t throw up .

“And you. You’re so pretty! Welcome to our home,” she says sincerely.

Catalina’s sharp eyes drop to my rings, then to my face. “Welcome to the family. I’m Catalina Huxley, Bryce’s grandmother.” She pulls me into a slightly stiff hug, then frowns. “You’re shaking. Are you cold? Should we adjust the A/C?”

“Um, no.” I hesitate, then opt for the truth with a tremulous laugh. “I’m a little nervous.”

Ares and Josh both snort. Bryce shoots them a warning look.

“Oh, no need for any of that.” Catalina runs her hands down my arms soothingly, which calms me a little. “We’re civilized people.”

“Prescott Huxley,” Bryce’s father says.

I nod hello and shake hands with him. His expression is wary. Does he think I’m going to hurt his son again? Just how does he know about what happened? “Bryce has told me so much about you.”

“Really? He hasn’t told me much about you.” Prescott gives Bryce a look full of rebuke.

“You’ve been busy,” Bryce says.

“I’m always busy, but I’ve never failed to make time for any of you.”

Bryce shifts, clearing his throat. He turns to me. “Fiona, that’s my aunt Jeremiah.”

The polished redhead laughs softly, lifting her cigar in greeting. “Let’s be honest. Bryce hasn’t said a word about his new bride. Frankly, I’m shocked he turned up married today. Ares, and now Bryce?” She turns to Josh. “When are you going to elope? Next Tuesday?”

Josh shudders. “Never.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re searching for your soul mate.”

“Yes. And when I find her, I promise I’ll hold a grand wedding.”

“I look forward to it.” Jeremiah’s wide smile says she doesn’t believe a word.

The blonde next to Ares waves. “I’m Lareina. Love that dress! I’m an only child, so I’m excited to have a sister.”

“Come. Sit and enjoy the dinner. I’m sorry the food won’t be anything special. I didn’t have much time,” Akiko says.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I say.

“I told Dad you could’ve hosted this tomorrow,” Bryce adds .

Akiko shakes her head. “Nonsense. A new member of the family ought to be welcomed properly as soon as possible. We wouldn’t want her to feel left out.”

I just smile, unsure how to respond to such earnestness, especially when I can see Ares and Josh scrunching their faces out of the corner of my eye. Prescott and Jeremiah are difficult to read, and Catalina is too smooth to give away anything.

“Are we getting pizza?” Bryce asks.

His brothers look up with sudden interest. Even Jeremiah’s eyes sparkle a little.

“ Pizza? ” Akiko looks horrified. “Takeout, for a formal family dinner?”

The two men visibly deflate. Jeremiah looks away, puffing her cigar.

Bryce and I sit across from Prescott, Akiko and Jeremiah. Bryce pours some sake for me, then leans over. “Akiko has the best sake and plum wine, cold or warm, doesn’t matter. The food tonight, though… I’m not sure. I’ve never seen her demur about it so much.”

“It’s fine,” I whisper back.

“So cute together!” Akiko says brightly. “So lovey-dovey.”

I flush. Bryce laughs. “You think we’re cute because you know I’ve been complimenting your alcohol.”

“That too.” Akiko grins as the first course is served.

I look down at the beautiful, large, white bone china edged with complex fleur-de-lis gold patterns.

It’s the kind of plate Sherry would be envious of.

Some sort of dark purple sauce encircles two bite-sized slices of smoked duck, each topped with caviar and a dot of yellow sauce.

I count five green alfalfa sprouts on the right to balance out the colors.

On top of the sprouts is a thin line of orange-colored dressing.

If everyone else weren’t getting the exact same thing, I might think that Akiko was trying to show how much I don’t belong by starving me.

“You’ve outdone yourself, my love,” Prescott says to his wife with a warm glow. Is he used to this kind of portion?

Ares cuts one of the slices in half with his knife and eats the tinier piece.

Guess that’s one way to stretch it out. Oh wait.

He’s swapping his plate with his wife. Why?

Lareina looks at him like he’s just single-handedly filled every hungry child’s belly with delicious food.

I glance at Prescott and Akiko, wondering if plate swapping is some kind of family custom I’m not aware of, but they don’t do that.