Page 92 of The Fiancée Farce
“Tansy.” Gemma rested a hand atop Tansy’s knee, gentling her voice. “Did something happen?”
Her eyes darted around the room before lowering to her lap. “Um...”
“Hey, guys?” Gemma said. “Could you give us a minute?”
Tansy’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “No! It’s fine. It’s not a secret. Since everyone here’s in the know, so to speak, I guess it impacts all of us. In a sense. Tucker came by the store.”
“What? When?” FuckingTucker. She’d never been fond of her cousin, not since he had ripped the heads off all her Barbies and left them in her bathtub for her to find, like he was some budding, deranged serial killer, and now, after everything Tansy had told her, he could fuck right off. “Today?”
“After the contractor left. We were closed. I forgot to lock the door.” Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “Understaffed, remember?”
Gemma’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Were you by yourself? Did he do something?”
“Kat had just left. And you know Tucker.” Tansy stared at her lap. “He loves to hear himself talk.”
Yvonne scoffed. “Péter plus haut dans son cul.”
“That’s all he did, hon?” Of all Gemma’s friends, Rochelle looked the most concerned. “Talk?”
Gemma could scarcely swallow, her mouth drier than the goddamn Sahara.
“It was just talking. And some... implied threats, but—”
“Hethreatenedyou?” Gemma was up and off the couch, standing before the words were even out of her mouth. “He issodead, I swear—”
“Gemma!” Tansy tugged on Gemma’s sleeve. “I’mfine.”
Shewasn’tfine. She was shaken up and looked like she’d been crying, and that was unacceptable.
Gemma had made a promise. A promise to Tansy that no one in Gemma’s goddamned family would hurt her. And already she was falling short.
Gemma perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of Tansy and took a deep breath. “I need you to tell meexactlywhat he said.”
“He knows.” Rainwater dripped off the tip of Tansy’s nose. “I don’t know how—maybe Katherine told Ashleigh and Ashleigh told Madison—but Tucker knows Katherine wants to sell the store, that she’s put Scylla on hold. I told him it’s because you and I want to buy it, invest, but he implied the timing of our engagement is suspect.” Tansy dragged her hand under her nose and blinked hard. “Then he offered to pay me double what you’re paying if Idon’tmarry you.”
Gemma’s chest went cold. “Hewhat?”
“Nom de dieu.” Yvonne lifted a hand to her throat.
“I always thought your cousin was a rotten bastard.” Rochelle scowled.
Gemma’s tongue didn’t fit right inside her mouth; pressed too hard against the back of her teeth, it felt too thick, clumsy. “What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t tell him anything.” Tansy shook her head, eyes damp and wide, too big in her face. “I swear I didn’t.”
Yvonne slid closer to Tansy and rubbed her shoulder. “Of course you didn’t, ma petite fleur. No tears.”
“Right.” Max reached over and patted Tansy’s knee. “Ma, uh—”
“Shh.” Yvonne pressed her finger to his lips. “Enough, mon petit chou-fleur. It’s good.”
Max grinned at Teddy. “You hear that? I’m her petitchou-fleur.”
Teddy snickered. “She called you a cauliflower, you nitwit.”
“Herlittlecauliflower,” Max said.
“Enough!” Gemma twisted the engagement ring on her finger anxiously. “I mean about the offer.Hisoffer.”
