Page 38 of Revenge Is a Dish Best Served… Wearing Heels?

Well, that was a minefield I'd walked right into. However, if she'd done any research on me, she would know all about my sordid history. Not mine exactly. But my family's dirty laundry that they seemed to love airing in public, something I absolutely despised.

"Don't you know already?" I asked, wondering what she might have found. It wasn't like I'd looked it up lately—orever—because I had already lived it. The last thing I wanted to do in my precious spare time was google my family and read about their bullshit.

"Um, yeah, I suppose."

"It's not pretty, is it? My family is fucked up. And that's why Archie lives with me. I'm not perfect. But I'm a hell of a lot better than anyone else in his life."

She was quiet, and I wondered what she was thinking. What exactly had she read? "I guess?" she said, her tone light and teasing.

Not at all what I'd been expecting. "You guess? Jesus, what kind of man do you think I am?"

"I'm not sure yet. But I'll let you know when I find out."

There was no use telling her I was one of the good guys, because anyone could say that. The proof was in how you acted in life, how you treated other people, and if I could convince her to stick around for a while, maybe she'd discover it on her own.

"So tell me, Aurelia..." I began.

"Aurelia?"

"Yeah, my plan is to test out names until I get it right."

She laughed again, a sound I'd never tire of hearing. "Good luck with that."

"Thank you. Anyway, tell me one thing about yourself that no one else knows."

"Please," she corrected.

Manners. Was it weird that I loved her reminder about basic manners? "Right. Please. Besides..."

"Besides what?"

I dropped my voice as low as it could go without sounding like a complete idiot. "Besides being able to lick your own ni—"

"Don't you dare say it out loud!"

Laughter escaped me. "Okay, darling, I won't. But one thing besidesthat."

I knew if I could see her right now, her pretty cheeks would be pink. What I wouldn't give to be able to witness that.

She cleared her throat loudly, making me think she was a bit miffed at me and wouldn't answer. But then she surprised me by saying, "I still sleep with my childhood stuffed animal."

"Really?" That was fucking adorable. "What is it?"

"It's a little cat," she whispered. "But you can't tell anyone. My sisters would totally make fun of me."

Aha. Sisters. I made a mental note of that little tidbit. Sisters. Parents still together. Fashion designer perhaps. I'd piece all these things together and find her if it was the last thing I did.

"I get that. So do you hide it or something when they stay with you?" Totally fishing.

"Yes. Not that they stay with me. But they snoop in my closet a lot, so I put it in a drawer every morning."

So they didn't stay with her. Maybe because they lived nearby and didn't need to stay over? To snoop in her closet on a regular basis, they had to live in the city or close to it. Another puzzle piece falling into place?

"Sounds like a lot of work," I said.

"Oh, yes. My big secret that I must keep hidden. Poor thing's seen better days, but I just can't get rid of her."

"What's her name?"