Page 61 of Six Month Wife
"So no," she adds, “you don’t need to worry about me being here for the wrong reasons.”
Her words hang there like a challenge.
Leeland nods slowly, but his face gives nothing away. “Okay.”
She presses on. “That said, when Parker pitched the idea, I didn’t run—I listened. He needed a partner. I saw an opportunity. But don’t mistake that for some manipulative angle. Neither of us cooked this up. The situation landed in our laps, and we rose to meet it.”
Leeland studies her, silent for a beat too long. Then he says, “Fair enough. I hope you’ll forgive my skepticism. It’s not every day someone in your position crosses paths with someone in Parker’s.”
Her smile doesn’t flinch. “Guess that makes me special.”
By the time the waiter brings our entrees, the tension has eased slightly, but it still simmers beneath the surface. Adair and my dad exchange a few more verbal jabs, but she holds her own every time, meeting him word for word.
I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.
“You’re not what I expected,” Leeland says finally, setting down his fork and fixing Adair with a piercing look.
“I get that a lot,” she replies with a smile. Her tone is light, but her eyes are steady. She doesn’t take the bait, whatever he’s trying to do here.
He nods, almost like he’s conceding a point. “You’re sharp. And stubborn. Parker could do worse.”
“I guess I'll take that as a compliment,” Adair says dryly.
“It is,” Leeland says, and for the first time, I think he might mean it.
“So, don’t mess this up. For either of you.”
Adair tilts her head, humor evident in her eyes. “You know, of all the people sitting at this table, you are the only one worried about the money. The way I see it, if anyonehere is going to mess up and reveal something they shouldn’t to the estate representative, it’s the person who cares about the money the most.”
I gape at her. But my dad doesn’t even flinch. A hint of a smile crosses his face, and he relaxes.
He looks at me, wipes his mouth with his white cloth napkin, and places it in his lap.
“She’s sharp, Parker. I see why you married her. Just remember, sharp things tend to break when you lean on them too hard.”
17
Adair
The scentof freshly brewed coffee wraps around me as I step into Sip Café. It’s the kind of comforting aroma that promises a moment of calm in the chaos of my life.
I order a cappuccino and settle into a small table near the window, the view of the beach and early morning joggers a soothing sight.
I take my first sip, the warm, frothy liquid pouring down my throat like a tiny, over-caffeinated middle finger to reality.
For now, I can pretend my business isn’t teetering on the edge and that Parker’s father didn’t dissect my life yesterday like a surgeon with a scalpel. I guess no sense in sugar-coating my business stress for my fake husband anymore.
One moment of peace. That’s all I’m asking for.
The bell over the door jingles, and my peace evaporates as Bets strides in. John follows close behind her. She looks every inch the polished businesswoman, from her tailored blazer to the sleek ponytail swinging behind her.
“Adair,” she says when her sharp gaze lands on me.Her voice is warm enough, but there’s a tightness to her smile.
“Bets, hi.” I stand, giving her an awkward hug as John nods a polite greeting. “How are you?”
“Busy. Our new venture in Savannah is doing great. The tip-off ended up being legit, so John and I have been working around the clock to get it up and running for the summer,” she says, her tone light, but I can tell she’s not loitering in front of me for casual small talk.
John has gone to the counter to pick up a few to-go bags for them, it looks like. Bets surveys me for a moment, as if giving me time to do or say something. But I have no idea what she wants. She has always been the type to cut straight to the point when she’s got something on her mind.
