Page 193 of My Dark Prince
I’d turn the fake engagement into a real engagement once I had my proposal details ironed out.
Briar’s grin faltered before she replaced it with an incredulous look. “It could be Dallas. Her number is private whenever she calls.”
Ah, yes. Last year, Dallas got blacklisted from a few local restaurants for accidentally double and triple booking.
Briar swiped the screen, putting the call on speaker. “Hello?”
“Briar?”
The temperature in the bedroom dropped ten degrees. At Philomena Auer’s unmistakable voice, Briar’s hopeful smile melted into a scowl. I wasn’t a violent man, but in that moment, I didn’t rule out doing things to her parents that were so heinous, the law had yet to find a fitting punishment for them.
“Yes, Philomena?” Briar’s voice came out as arctic as her expression.
“I wish you’d call me Mom.”
“I wish I had wings and a cute, fluffy tail. We all wish for impossible things sometimes. What’s your point?”
You would look adorable with a fluffy tail, I mouthed to Briar, managing to milk a laugh out of her.
“Fine.” Philomena cleared her throat. “Have it your way. Let the record show I tried to patch things up between us.”
“You mean hop on the gravy train bandwagon? Noted. Now, how can I help you?”
“It is my understanding that you will not be inviting me and your father to your wedding.”
“You mean you and Jason, who is not my real dad? That’s correct.” Briar pressed her knees to her chest, tucking them beneath her oversized shirt – my shirt, I realized. I did my best not to puff out my chest, the only appropriate response to the hottest girl alive wearing your shirt. “As I said before, I’ll only consider it if you give me information about my biological dad.”
“Why do you even want to know him? He obviously deserted you.”
“He wanted to be a part of my life. You pushed him away.”
Ribbons of pride laced around my chest. It must’ve been hard to stand up to someone she once begged to love her. Briar would make a great mother one day.
“I will give you information about your sperm donor.” It sounded as if Philomena had to physically tear the words out of her lips. “If …”
“Yes?” Briar’s eyes cut to mine, hope glittering inside them.
I offered her two thumbs up.
“If you give us money to cover our legal fees,” Philomena finished.Motherfucker. She made Dee Dee Blanchard look like a competent mother. “Paying those nasty people back bled us dry. Your father—”
“Not my father.”
Atta girl.
“Jason,” Philomena corrected, “has been working at a golf club selling coffee to pay the bills.”
“Ah, good ole work. You’d be surprised how many people do that for a living.” Briar paused. “How much do you need?”
“Five hundred thousand dollars should set us off to a good start.”
I can’t believe Philomena managed that without a lick of hesitation. Actually, I could. The woman wouldn’t know shame if it planted flags in her yard and made itself at home.
“Christ,” Briar choked out. “I don’t have that kind of money.”
“I do,” I reminded her.
Briar shot me an alarmed,what-are-you-doing?glare, obviously unhappy I’d chipped in. But I didn’t care about Philomena and Jason getting a big sum of cash. First, they’d likely burnthrough it within six months like the irresponsible losers they were. And second, I’d buy the fucking sun for a chance to give Briar her closure.
