The Worst Best Man(40)

Margeaux growled. “That low-class, fat bitch Franklin bonded with the help, and they waxed it off.”

“Oh, hey, Marge,” Frankie strolled by, plate of hors de oeuvres in hand. “You’ve got a little something right here.” She pointed to where the fake eyebrow that wasn’t fooling anyone had been sketched onto her forehead.

“Why don’t you fuck off and go scrub someone’s toilet?” Margeaux snapped.

“Actually, I’m in catering, so you should ask me to get a plate of food. But I can see how you’d get those confused, being a spoiled, selfish dumbass and all.”

“Ladies,” Davenport said jovially. He threw an arm around both bridesmaids. “Can’t we all just get along?”

“Sure, as soon as someone sends her back over the wall to Mexico where she belongs,” Margeaux sneered.

“I’m Lebanese and Italian, you fuckwit.”

“Whatever. Your people fold my laundry and cook for me.”

“Margeaux, why don’t you do us all a favor and go off and fuck some poor schmuck who doesn’t yet know what a soulless harpy you are?” Aiden said succinctly.

Frankie and Margeaux stared at him, open mouthed.

“Don’t insult Franchesca again, or you won’t be happy with the consequences.”

“Come on, doll. Let’s get you a drink and some appetizers that you can throw up later,” Davenport said, steering Margeaux away from Frankie.

“I don’t need you defending me,” Frankie reminded him.

“And I don’t need you being treated like shit.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I can see that. Nice job on her eyebrow by the way. She’s going to look perennially surprised in every photo.”

Frankie’s full lips curved ever so slightly. “It wasn’t my idea. I wish it had been.”

Cressida and Taffany joined them. Cressida snapped her fingers at a waiter bearing a tray of drinks. “You may leave these here,” she said, taking the tray from him.

Taffany was a shocking shade of fuchsia. She reached for a glass and winced as her dress rubbed her raw skin.

“What happened to you?” Frankie asked.

“I fell asleep in the sun this afternoon after the spa,” Taffany said trying to lift the drink to her lips without stretching any skin.

“Passed out actually,” Ford said, leaning over Taffany’s shoulder and grabbing a drink. He’d already loosened his tie and slapped on a pair of Ray-Bans. “Let’s get this party started!”

“I agree,” Cressida said fiercely.

“Woooo,” the burnt Taffany said without moving.

Digby strolled by on his phone muttering about “not missing this IPO” and “restricted shares.”

“Let’s talk,” Aiden told Frankie. He was pleasantly surprised when she let him guide her away from the festivity, his hand at the small of her back.

Night was falling. The sunset cast a spectacular show of pinks and reds over the sky and ocean to the west. Behind them, the band warmed up with an old favorite.

“You wanted to talk, so talk,” Frankie said, crossing her arms in front of her. The move made her breasts swell dangerously against the fabric of her dress.

“I’d like to explain what happened.”

“To me or to my boobs,” Frankie asked.

Rather reluctantly, Aiden raised his gaze to her face. She was smirking at him, her hair spilling over a shoulder, the curls lifting in the wind.

“To all of you, if you’ll let me.”

She made a sarcastic and sweeping gesture with her hand. “The beach is yours. Talk.”

“My family isn’t normal,” he began. She rolled her eyes but didn’t interject. “We don’t ask for things. We take them. We manipulate and maneuver until whatever it is that we want is ours or until we lose our interest.”

“I thought you were trying to get into my pants?” Frankie quipped.

“I’m trying to be honest. And I have a feeling honesty will get me farther than painting pretty pictures.”

“So, you’re all selfish, manipulative assholes. I got it. Why did your selfish, manipulative asshole brother take Chip?”

“Elliot is my half-brother. He’s spent years trying to prove to our father that he’s the better son.” Despite their ten-year age difference, Elliot had been born trying to keep up with Aiden. “I’m favored for whatever reasons my father has. But Elliot is constantly trying to outdo me, undermine me, prove his worth.”

“Uh-huh. And abducting your best friend would help him how?”

“We’re all on the board of Kilbourn Holdings. We’re looking for a new CFO. A powerful and lucrative position. Elliot wants me to vote for the candidate he’s backing. His candidate is… lacking. And I told him so, repeatedly.” It was the polite way of saying Boris Donaldson was a sexual harassing, egotistical, asshole who left his last position under the shadow of an insider trading scheme. Aiden wasn’t letting the man near his family business.

“So, he took Chip to strong-arm you into it?”

Aiden nodded. “It sounds stupid, but the business of it is complicated.”

“It is stupid, but it’s not that complicated. Obviously, Elliot has a reason he wants this guy in place whether it’s personal or professional. CFO for Kilbourn Holdings. That’s a lot of money, not to mention prestige, and a voice as to what happens within the company. He either really likes this guy, or it’s a ‘I’ll do this for you, if you do this for me’ deal.”