Written with Regret (The Regret Duet #1)(62)

“I’ll be out of your way in just a second. I was just wondering if you have a preference where I sat. I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

I blinked at her, because she had literally just intruded and I owed her a miracle for it. “You can sit with me and Ian.”

Her eyes flashed wide, and her mouth formed the most ridiculous fake smile, showing off every one of her white teeth—and not in a good way. “Ian’s here?”

“Well, not yet. But he’s on his way.”

“Oh, fun,” she mumbled, focusing on her camera. Her long, red waves curtained her face off and I had to stop my hands from brushing them away.

“Come on. He’s not that bad.”

She peeked up. “The only time he’s ever spoken to me, he told me there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Rosalee and it’d do me well to remember that.”

“Yeah, but he meant like egging your house or filing a complaint with your homeowners’ association because you left your recycle bin out overnight.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

That time, I didn’t bother trying to stop my hands. I gave her forearm a squeeze. “Relax. I’ll protect you from Ian.”

She tilted her head back and stared up at me, her cheeks turning the most brilliant shade of pink. “I know you will.”

I smiled.

She smiled back.

Neither of us moved as the auditorium filled around us.

“Hi, I’m Marilyn.” She shifted around me, my AB line segment with Hadley suddenly becoming a triangle. “Who are you?”

She smiled big and kind. “I’m Hadley.”

Marilyn’s face pinched as she gave her a quick once over. “Girlfriend?”

“No,” Hadley and I answered in unison.

Marilyn’s eyes narrowed, and her lips curled. “Sister? Secretary? Personal assistant?”

I had to give her credit. Hadley didn’t have a hint of attitude as she replied, “Nope, nope, and nope.”

“We should go sit down. It was nice meeting you, Marilyn.” I rested my palm on Hadley’s lower back and started to guide her out of the awkwardness, when Marilyn pulled the pin on my grenade.

“Are you Rosalee’s mom?”

Hadley and I both froze midstep.

Before caving to my daughter’s nagging to invite Hadley to come to the awards ceremony that night, I’d considered the possibility that someone would notice the resemblance between the two of them. I’d never imagined a scenario where anyone would have the gall to actually ask.

But I never should have underestimated the nosy and imprudent Marilyn Not-Monroe.

“You are,” she breathed, wonder filling her eyes.

Hadley turned to stone. “I…uh…” She looked up at me and her panic made me hate Marilyn that much more.

“You know, we’ve always wondered why you were never around. My guess was that you died. Guess I won’t be winning that betting pool.” She smirked, slimy and arrogant.

Oh, this was not fucking happening. Nope. No fucking way.

“The betting pool?” I took an ominous step toward her. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Her dull, boring, brown eyes flicked to mine. “It was a joke.” She circled her long, pointed fingernail at Hadley. “But you have definitely been the topic of many a playground debates. Wait until I tell the other moms that you actually do exist.”

Annnnnd I was done. All patience gone. All social courtesies out the window. The last thing I needed was the entire school gossiping about Hadley being Rosalee’s mom. All it would take was one bratty kid parroting their mother to rock my daughter’s world.

If and when that conversation happened, it wasn’t going to be because of a rumor at fucking preschool.

“From here on out, Marilyn, you keep my family’s name out of your mouth on the playground and everywhere else.”

Her head snapped back. “Excuse me?”

Hadley tugged on my forearm and whispered, “Let it go, Caven.”

But I couldn’t let it go; too much was at stake. “You heard me. Stay out of my family’s business. Who she is or isn’t does not make one bit of difference to you. And please, by all means, run back to your minions and let them know that I’m not fucking around about this. I hear one damn word about Hadley or Rosalee and I promise it won’t end well for any of you.”

“Well, then,” she scoffed, thoroughly affronted.

I couldn’t count the amount of fucks I did not give about Marilyn’s porcelain feelings. “Say you understand.”

She pursed her lips. “I understand you are an extremely rude man.”

“Then you can only imagine how much ruder I could get should you not heed my warning to keep your mouth closed.”

Grabbing Hadley’s hand, I stormed off, dragging her behind me. The nerve of that woman was astounding. I knew I’d hate that damn school from the moment I’d pulled up and every single car in the parking lot was top-of-the-line luxury. Not to say that my vehicle wasn’t, but I hadn’t grown up with money, so I’d never acquired the sense of entitlement or holier-than-thou mindset that so often accompanied it.

Marilyn clearly had.

My vision was still red as I caught sight of Ian holding Rosalee on his hip in the middle of the aisle.