Page 102 of Look at Her and Die

Searcy blinked. “Um, no. I’m not a lesbian. I’m also not that man’s daughter. I’m this one’s fiancé.”

Ol’ Paul blinked. “Oh, then who is the lesbian?”

“That would be me.” My stepsister came forward. “Lesbian right here.”

My mother grumbled something under her breath, then said, “It’s time to eat!”

Dinner went well.

My mom kept glaring hard at Searcy.

Searcy smiled like she didn’t have a care in the world.

My stepsister remained utterly neutral with everything discussed—politics, business, and anything and everything that could be considered lively at a dinner party.

Harrington remained silent, not adding much to the conversation.

And then there was Searcy’s mom, who looked wholly uncomfortable with everything that was said and done.

She looked quite intimidated when the forks, spoons, knives, and dinner glasses were introduced to her.

Meanwhile, Searcy ate with her salad fork the entire time, picking up her meat with her fork and biting into it instead of using her knife. Unbothered by my family’s disdain for her.

The real entertainment was Paul and Mara.

It was only discovered later that Paul was the owner of a law firm—and the lawyer that was likely to be taking up Searcy’s mother’s case. And since he didn’t take just anyone as a client, he wanted to meet Searcy’s mom, Deiondre, first.

Oh, and let’s not forget the ex, Elisha, who looked like I’d shit on her pony.

She kept stealing glances at Searcy and her fake ring, looking like every time she did, she’d break down and cry.

I pretended not to notice and instead focused on explaining everything that there was to know about Searcy.

Though, I’d made sure that I had Searcy’s permission first.

By the end of dinner, Paul was talking quietly with his wife, Harrington looked ready to bolt, and the food I switched with from Searcy to my stepsister sat untouched.

“Was dinner not to your liking, dear Juliet?” Paul asked.

“Oh, I’m a vegetarian. I’m allergic to red meat,” my sister lied.

She wasn’t allergic to red meat.

She was allergic to watching cow videos and how they were mistreated.

She’d given up all meat a few years ago and hadn’t looked back since.

Oh, and also, she wasn’t a lesbian.

My stepsister was a very straight woman that had a best friend that was overly friendly.

One day my stepfather had caught them doing their overly friendly thing, and he’d said she was a lesbian ever since.

“Do you mind if I have a bite of your steak and a dinner roll?” Paul asked.

I’d literally watched Paul take every single extra dinner roll out of the basket, as well as have two helpings of salad. How that man kept putting food into his mouth, I didn’t know.

“Oh, sure.” Juliet handed over her roll.

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