I did not want to have his dating life around me.
After the last incident ended with a woman banging on our door every night for a week—until the cops got involved—he’d sworn up and down that he’d behave.
The way he was looking at Marianne—yeah, I knew that look.
“Do not what?” he asked innocently, with his arms shrugging.
I narrowed my eyes on him as I snuggled the puppy closer to me. “You know exactly what.”
He sat back in his chair and shook his head. “I really don’t.”
“You do. And I’m telling you—” I said, leaning forward, careful not to squish the puppy, “no.”
He had the nerve to start chuckling.
“I’m not kidding.”
That just made him laugh even more.
“What are you guys fighting about?” Trey asked me in a whisper.
I kept glaring at my dad. “He knows.”
“Now that everyone is here,” Marcel said, “we can begin. It seems as though the children have brought a bit of—attention to themselves. In turn, this also affects the club—as we all know.”
I sighed, and Trey slipped his arm around me.
That felt nice, so I leaned into him. I mean, I might as well. It would be stupid not to.
“Marcel,” I said, wanting to say my piece, “we’ve agreed to get a divorce. I know that won’t solve everything, but it should help, right?”
Marianne spun around in her seat so quickly it scared me. “Are you quite serious right now?” she said to her son. “You drag this poor girl around Vegas, and somehow get her to marry your sorry ass,” she inhaled loudly, “and now you’re going to completely ruin her reputation by divorcing her right away?”
Trey let out a sigh. “Mom, that’s not how it was,” he said, but Marianne wasn’t done yet.
“I just—I just can’t with you. I mean, disappearing for a couple of days is one thing. Getting married, Son,” she said, leaning slightly over the arm of her chair, “is a whole other animal.”
This time Angelique cleared her throat. “Lexi, I’m afraid you two divorcing—well, that would bring more unwanted attention to the club. We’d like to propose—an alternative solution.”
My dad was the next to speak, “What are you suggesting?”
“Well, we’ve spent some time discussing various—scenarios. And there’s only one that makes much—sense.”
Marianne crossed her long legs—as my dad watched—the big jerk. “Say what you’re going to say, Angelique. There’s no need to sugarcoat this situation.”
Angelique nodded and clasped her hands together. “Well, the only scenario that will save face—for everyone concerned—is if the children stay married.”
Dad sat forward. “Over my dead body.”
Marianne turned her head to him. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
The way Dad laughed at that made me—uncomfortable.
To say the least.
He got all serious again and spoke to Angelique and Marcel, “That doesn’t work for me. I think their plan of divorcing—and pretending this entire shitshow never happened—is the better thing to do.”
Then, he turned to me and sharply said, “You’re gonna blow your shot at the Olympic team. Is that what you want? To screw everything up you’ve worked so hard for? For this,” he pointed at Trey, “joker?”