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She snorts. “I wouldn’t let them go on their own. They still need their mother.”

“Hillary, Olive is twenty-one and Petula is twenty-four years old. They’re grown women—”

“They still need my guidance,” she snaps.

Okay, whatever.“So what does that mean?” I ask, still not understanding the gist of this conversation.

“The duke, the girls and Iare moving to New York. Permanently.”

“Wait. What?” I bark into the phone.

“Florian is coming with us—”

“You’ve only been seeing him for four months,” I remind her. “Are you really going to uproot your life and move across the country with a man you barely know?”

“The duke promises a much better life for me than remaining a single mom,” she tells me.

“You’re going to marry him?”

“I believe it’s in the stars for me,” she says. “But this isn’t about me. It’s about my girls. The duke has incredible contacts in New York and he believes he can open doors on Broadway for my little green olive and my little patch of patchouli.”

I’m baffled.

“Your plans don’t involve me,” I note.

“You’re not my child, Jules,” she tells me. “You didn’t come out of my womb,” I shudder at the perturbing thought, “and you don’t have my last name. Not to mention, you’ve never made an effort with Florian. He has the distinct impression you dislike him.”That’s because I do.Royal title or not, the guy is sleazy.

Annoyance flares. “Why aren’t we having this conversation face-to-face at the house?” I demand.

“I doubt I’ll be coming back to that tiny box when I can live in the lap of luxury at my boyfriend’s Malibu place. Florian hired professional movers. They’ll take care of packing all our belongings. Once they’re done, they’ll leave the master keys with you. You won’t have to worry your pretty little head. It’ll all be handled.”Wow. I’m at a loss for words.“So, you see dear Jules, this is the end of the road for us. We’ll be leaving LA within a month––”

“A month?” I choke. “Clearly, you’ve been planning this for a while, but it’s only now you tell me?”

“Everything came together for us over the weekend. Florian found us a beautiful apartment near Central Park. I wanted to wait until that was secured before telling you. We couldn’t rush things. A man of his stature requires a certain level of accommodation. It’s not like we can live in Harlem or any other suspicious neighborhood. We’re both royalty.”

Had she not pulled the rug from under my feet, I’d be laughing my head off right now.

“Unbelievable,” I simply say.

“Stop pretending you’re going to miss us, Jules.” I can imagine the smug look on her face. “You could barely tolerate us––”

“That’s beside the point, Hillary.” I’m sure my voice carries, but right now, it’s the least of my concerns. “You could’ve had the courtesy of warning me in advance––”

“Now that we have our ducks in a row, I’m warning you––”

“At the eve of your departure? That’s hardly a warning. It’s a conclusion,” I argue.

“Back to my opening statement.” What a cow. “I want out of the house and your father’s rinky-dink company––”

“You never seem to have any problem submitting your bogus expenses to said rinky-dink company—”

“Anyway, the sinking ship is all yours,” she interrupts. “I want nothing to do with it. Never did. I don’t want to be associated with it any longer. It reflects negatively on me. I want you to buy out my shares.”

“Wh—what?”

“I need the cash—”

“But—”