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The Devil You Know (The Devils #3)(62)

Author:Elizabeth O'Roark

揋od, Mom,?I say, 搚ou抳e only got three plates left. I should have gotten you dishes for Christmas.?

揑t抯 just me,?she says. 揥hy would I ever need more than three plates? Besides, I already know what I want to ask you for.?

I glance at the clock. It抯 noon and the mall probably closes in a matter of hours. 揑 hope it抯 a new blender,?I say, taking a sip of the margarita she made me. It抯 half ice.

揑t抯 not something you have to buy,?she adds. 揊irst, I want you to come to mass with me today.?

I have to stifle a sigh, though I抎 anticipated this one. My mother operates as if God is taking attendance and will dole out His goodness to those who show up most. I bet my dad hasn抰 been to mass once in fifteen years, but she抯 not one to let facts ruin things for her.

揊ine. What else??

揑 want you to go see your father on your way out Monday.?

My face falls. 揂re you serious? Why??

揃ecause you might not like what he did, but he抯 still your father. He deserves to spend a few hours with his daughter on Christmas.?

I groan. 揗om, do you have any idea what efforts he抯 made so that you wouldn抰 see me? He抯 spent over a decade trying to cut you out. I don抰 understand how you can be so forgiving.?

揑抦 forgiving, honey, because I see so much of him in you.?

I know she isn抰 wrong, but it hurts anyway. 揟hat抯 pretty much the worst thing you could have said.?

揑 didn抰 mean it as an insult. You抮e brilliant like he is, but you抮e also more stubborn than is good for you, and you抮e so busy looking for the worst in people that you don抰 always see the best. Instead of thinking he tries to control you because he抯 punitive, is it at least possible that he loves you also? Couldn抰 it be both??

揑t抯 easier just to write people off,?I whisper.

She clasps my hand. 揑 know, Peaches. But that抯 not a reason to do it.?

My mother and I exchange gifts and spend Christmas Day watching Hallmark movies I don抰 pay much attention to. I used to love them as much as she does, and now匢 don抰 know. It抯 all well and good, throwing a Christmas dance in a haunted mansion with the ghost you抮e in love with, but I think I sort of prefer wandering the aisles of Target with Ben, arguing about Nerf guns.

The next morning, I hug my mom goodbye and take an Uber into the city, back to the house where I grew up. The car pulls into my father抯 driveway, and resentment for Stephani flares anew. She抯 torn out my mother抯 willow trees in front. There are cheap planters there now, a showy mailbox. As I walk to the door, I consider subtle ways to let her know her taste sucks, but they抮e all some version of you can抰 teach an old whore new tricks, and that抯 probably not in the spirit of what my mother is asking me to do here.

I ring the doorbell, and my father answers with Stephani lurking a few feet behind him, her smile strained and wary. As it should be梩he only thing I hate more than a homewrecker is the husband who cheats in the first place. I抳e never been especially nice to her.

揋emma!?he shouts. 揅ome in, come in.?He ushers me toward the family room, as if I didn抰 spend the first fifteen years of my life here. 揝teph was just whipping up some mimosas.?

I nod reluctantly, and Stephani goes to the bar my father installed across the room. The cabinet is full of new glassware while my mother is still using the same shit she left with over a decade ago. I抦 irritated all over again.

Stephani sets the drinks in front of us. 揑抣l let you two talk,?she says.

My father barely notices her, as if she抯 a servant quietly ushering herself out. And that抯 why you don抰 sleep with your married boss, Steph. Because eventually you抣l be the wife he抯 bored by too.

揝o how are things at FMG??he asks.

揋reat. Busy.?

揑 saw you抮e taking on Fiducia.?

I stiffen. He always wants something. It抯 entirely possible Fiducia or their counsel has asked him to lean on me a little.

揑 am.?My voice hardens. 揃ut I抦 not discussing the case with you.?

He sighs. 揑 wasn抰 trying to get you to divulge secrets. For Christ抯 sake卌an I not even ask you a simple question about work? What抯 it going to take for you to forgive me??

揥ell, you could stop asking me for things that will hurt Mom, for starters. You could stop making everything you offer contingent on something else.?

揑s that what I was doing??he demands. 揃ecause I thought I was just asking my daughter about her job, in the hopes she抎 finally realize that working for me would be far better than working for FMG.?

I set my glass down on the table, intentionally ignoring the coaster. Let Stephani go buy a brand-new table for ten grand because this one now has a water ring. Maybe it抣l help make up for the fact that her husband no longer notices her. 揑s that what this is about??I ask. 揅onvincing me to join your firm??

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