Page 44 of Pucking Sweet

My hand drops limp to my side as I see the way they’re all watching, waiting for me to respond. Do they really believe him over me? They must, with the way they all greeted him so warmly just now. Mom said they’re all thrilled for this union.

A match made in heaven.

Those words make my stomach churn.

“I have to go.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. You haven’t even touched your fish,” says Mom, trying to lead me back over to the table. “Just sit down now. That’s my sweet girl.”

I go with her, but only so I can retrieve my clutch from the back of my chair. I pick it up by the delicate gold chain, slipping it on my shoulder.

“Poppy, don’t you dare leave this dining room,” Dad warns.

“I’ve gotta go,” I say again, my voice eerily calm. My motions are robotic as I check my clutch for my phone, lipstick, and credit cards.

Mom steps in closer. “Poppy, if you leave—”

“You’ll what?” I say, snapping my clutch shut. “Lie to me some more? Belittle me?Disownme?”

She crosses her arms. “Well, your Nana certainly didn’t leave you that trust fund for you to go around acting like this, now did she?”

I glare at her. Our Nana was an heiress. She left each of us kids with a trust fund of ten million dollars. Once we turn thirty, we can start drawing on it. At five percent a year, that’s five-hundred thousand dollars a year over twenty years. Ivy and Rowan are already drawing on theirs.

I’ve always been smart. I haven’t been planning on that money as a need, but heavens what a blessing. In a few short years, I could have real options. I’ll have a safety net, travel money, and guaranteed retirement. It’s cruel to think my own mother would rip that away.

“You wouldn’t dare touch Nana’s money,” I say at her.

“I am the guarantor of her estate—”

“She wanted me to have that money, Mom.”

She smirks, knowing she has me. “Well, if you’re going to be an embarrassment to the family, I think we’ll have to rethink the terms, won’t we?”

I search her face, heart sinking. “How can you be so cruel?”

She blinks twice. Then she changes her manipulation tactic as smoothly as an F1 driver changes gears. “You’re being hysterical right now. This was clearly a lot for you to digest, so allowances will be made. Anderson warned us that your feelings for him might not be completely gone—”

“Ohmygod!” I throw up my hands and stalk away from the table.

“Poppy, come back,” Mom cries.

“I’ve got this Mrs. S.,” I hear Anderson say.

Oh great, the master manipulator is letting herself be manipulated!

My heels click as I march through the doors of the restaurant into the empty hotel lobby.

Anderson follows close behind me. “Poppy, wait—”

“Go away.”

“Will you just slow down? Give me two minutes to explain.”

“I’m not interested.”

“You know, this is completely unfair, and I don’t deserve it.Youdumpedme, Poppy. Remember?”

I stop, chest heaving as I try to breathe.