Page 32 of Forty, Flirty & F*cked

I quickly tuck my right hand behind my back, but it's too late. The poker chip ring glints traitorously in the living room light.

"Nothing! Just a... work thing."

"A work thing." He raises an eyebrow. "That looks suspiciously like?—"

The front door bangs open, saving me from further interrogation.

"Food!" Lily's voice rings out. "I smell garlic!"

"In here!" Dad calls. "Your sister's trying to force-feed me vegetables again!"

"They're good for your immune system!" I protest as Lily bounces in, rain-damp and grinning.

"So is joy," she counters, reaching for the bread. "And nothing brings joy like carbs."

"Speaking of joy," Dad says carefully. "Ariana was just about to explain her new jewelry?—"

"New what?" Kat appears in the doorway, lawyer-mode activated. "Since when do you wear jewelry?"

"I wear jewelry!"

“Mom's necklace and those tiny studs don't count." Lily peers at my hand. "Is that a poker chip?"

I snatch my hand away. "No!"

"It is!" She cackles. "Did you actually turn a poker chip into a ring? In Vegas?"

"Focus on the pasta," I say desperately. "Look, there's even tiramisu!"

But Kat's already crossing the room, her expression shifting from confused to horrified as recognition dawns.

"Ariana." Her voice is dangerously calm. "Can I speak to you in the kitchen? Now?"

"But the food?—"

"Now."

I follow her, shooting pleading looks at Dad and Lily, but they're both too busy investigating the dessert options to notice.

The kitchen is exactly as it's always been—yellow walls, worn linoleum, and the height chart where Mom used to mark our growth until she couldn't anymore.

Kat rounds on me the second we're alone. "Please tell me that redacted marriage certificate you sent over last week wasn’t yours."

My stomach drops. "I can explain."

"The one I specifically said was completely legal and binding?"

"It's complicated."

"The one with the Elvis witness signature?"

"In my defense?—"

"The one you said was for a client?"

"Technically, I am my own client."

She makes a sound like a tea kettle reaching critical mass. "Ariana!"

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