Page 26 of The Stranger

I should be married and trying for a family. That was what Kayne wanted … once. I wonder if he’ll get that with my sister. She always swore she’d never have kids. She’s so self-absorbed and body-conscious that I doubt her opinion on that has changed.

“I went with a friend.”

“A friend?” Abigail scoffs. “What friend?”

Bitch.

As much as her judgement stings, she’s right. I don’t have many friends … none actually. Kayne and I started dating when I was in my senior year, and between him and my job at the dental clinic when I graduated, I had little time to maintain any friendships from school. Still, she’ll jump at any chance to belittle me. It’s something she’s always done.

“Eloise … Spencer’s mother,” I snap back, wishing she didn’t get under my skin, but unfortunately, she does.

“Oh … well, that makes more sense.”

“How?”

“She’s protecting her son.”

“Again, how?”

“They’re embarrassed by you, Delilah,” she says with a smile so smug I have an overwhelming compulsion to slap it right off her bitchy face. “He sent his mother in tofix—” she gestures her hand towards me, moving it up and down, “—you. The outfit is cute, I’ll give her that, but it’s like putting lipstick on a pig. A Band-Aid solution. The sad truth is you’ll never be good enough for their world. I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you, little sis. It’s only a matter of time before they see that … if they haven’t already.”

My mother gasps. “Abigail Louise St. James.”

“What?” she whines, standing and raising her chin. “I’m just speaking the truth.”

“That was an awful thing to say to your sister.”

“Maybe, but Delilah needs to realise she’ll never fit into their world. She doesn’t even fit into ours.”

“Of course she does! She is part of this family.”

“Then why did Dad want to put her up for adoption when she was born?”

My mother bows her head instead of refuting my sister’s claim and I finally have the answer to a question that’s been eating away at me for years.

The confidence I exuded when I exited my bedroom this morning has now been smashed to smithereens. I’m sitting in the back seat of the limousine and struggling to keep my tears at bay.

Damien even complimented me by saying,“You look lovely today, Miss St. James,”which only seemed to give validity to my sister’s hateful words. No comment was made about my funeral outfit yesterday.

Are the Prescott’s embarrassed by me?

Was this all an attempt to save face?

Common sense tells me it’s a possibility. I’m working for a multimillion-dollar company, and the only suitableoutfit I possessed before yesterday cost me under a hundred and fifty dollars. That included the shoes.

As if feeling like a charity case wasn’t bad enough. I now had the weight of Abigail’s cruel assumption swimming around in my head, as well as the confirmation of knowing what she’s been telling me for years is true … my father never wanted me.

I blow out a puff of air as my gaze moves to the window. The scenery blurs as my eyes cloud with tears. I feel stuck. I signed a contract yesterday that anchored me to Prescott Enterprises for at least the next month. When Spencer and I were hashing out the details of my employment, we agreed to a trial run. It was my idea … to protect us both. Four weeks didn’t seem that long at the time, but now it feels like an eternity.

Chapter 9

Spencer

Istand from my desk and stalk towards the doorway, only to see that Delilah still hasn’t arrived. She’s fifteen minutes late, and I need my damn coffee.

Pulling out my phone, I punch Damien’s number. “Is there an issue with Delilah?” I ask when he answers the call.

“I’m not sure, but she seemed upset when I collected her from her premises this morning, but unlike the previous day, I didn’t hear any commotion before she left the house.”