THE SPITEFUL BRIDE: Marry To Rival's Son novel Chapter 107

< Chapter Thirty-One World Domination

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I picked up the phone and started to scroll through the images. I could see the progression, from rough pencil sketches, to more refined pen and ink drawings that showed dresses from different angles, to pattern sections and notes that I didn’t really understand. And finally, the design sewn

into a dress, displayed on a mannequin.

“I don’t really know anything about wedding dresses,” I said, as I continued to scroll through with interest. “But I do know something about business. And it seems to me like you have real talent and potential. Do you have a business plan? Have you set up an LLC?”

She blinked at me. “Um, no, I was going to do a sole proprietorship. I heard that was easier.”

“It is simpler, but if anything goes wrong, your personal assets are at risk. I highly recommend a limited liability corporation. Especially since you are going through a potentially messy divorce.” I reached the end of the photographs and handed her back the phone. “I tell you what, why don’t you meet with one of my lawyers, and they can walk you through the process?”

The fork slipped through her fingers and clattered onto the table, spattering a little spaghetti sauce. “Oh, that’s very kind of you, Mr. Falcon, but I’m really not in a financial position-” She fumbled for a napkin to wipe up the sauce.

“You don’t have to pay,” I said quickly to reassure her. “It’s just a favor.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she said, wadding up the napkin. “It’s really too much.”

I grinned and stuffed a meatball in my mouth. After I had chewed and swallowed, I said, “Don’t think anything of it, Kristen. What are friends for?”

She looked up, and I could see surprise in her eyes. “Are we friends, Ezra?”

“Of course,” I said, nonchalantly. “We have to be, our kids are practically attached at the hip.”

She relaxed a little at the mention of the kids. “That’s true. If you could help me get started, I would be really, really grateful,” she said sincerely.

I heard movement near the door, and turned my head slightly to catch the sound. I could hear the whispers clearly, even though Kristen was oblivious to the kids’ chatter.

“Is it working?”

“Umm, how do I know if it’s working?”

“Did they kiss?”

“I don’t think so, they are still just talking.”

“Darn it!”

4/5

<Chapter Thirty-One World Domination

The kids were definitely up to something.

And it wasn’t world domination.

Maureen Atsali

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< Chapter Thirty-Two Booger-Brain

Chapter Thirty-Two: Booger-Brain

Joy

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“Young master, it’s time to go,” Mr. Spirko said. I couldn’t decide if he was scary, or just loveable because he was so weird. He was big. Not as tall as Mr. Falcon, but muscular. Like a bulldog. In fact, his face kind of reminded me of a bulldog too, as he never smiled, his eyes looked a little droopy under his bushy eyebrows, and his nose was kind of flat.

He was supposed to be the butler, but I had a feeling he was more like a body guard. Most of the time he was silent and broody and watching, always watching. And he always called Alex Young Master instead of using his given name.

“Why does he call you that?” I asked as we buckled into the back seat of one of Mr. Falcon’s fancy

cars.

“I dunno,” Alex shrugged carelessly, “he always calls me that. I think he’s just old fashioned.”

I had clean clothes that Mr. Spirko had brought from my house, along with my school backpack. He had brought Mommy some clean clothes, too, and a plastic tote with all the materials from her drafting desk. Before we left the house, Mr. Falcon set up a special work table and arranged all her things, even her sewing machine and mannequin. As soon as she hugged me goodbye, she was already opening her sketchbook with that sparkle in her eye that she got when she had a new idea.

Mrs. Farley had given me a lunch box like Alex, because she claimed the school food was too processed and full of sugar and chemicals. I wasn’t sure what that meant but I was happy to have a heavy stainless steel lunchbox like Alex’s.

“Isn’t this great?” I whispered as we pulled away from the curb.

“When our parents get married, we can ride to school together everyday!” Alex replied under his breath. I could barely hear him, but Spirko’s eyes darted to the review mirror, and his forehead wrinkled up. I had a feeling that it didn’t matter what we said, Mr. Spirko hardly ever said a word to anyone. Our secret was safe with the big, grumpy man.

“The spaghetti didn’t work,” I reminded him with a pout. “They didn’t even kiss! How are they gonna get married?” Alex agreed.

“Maybe it’s because we forgot about the music,” I said regretfully. “In the movies there is always music.” We were so busy picking flowers we totally forgot to put some opera music on the house’s smart sound system.

“Maybe they just need more time,” Alex suggested wisely.

< Chapter Thirty-Two Booger-Brain

“Yeah, maybe. But Mommy says we will probably go home in a couple of days. As soon as the

doctor can fit a brace over her foot.”

Alex reached over and squeezed my hand. “I don’t want you to go,” he said with a slight pout. 1 like having you all the time.

“I don’t wanna go either,” I said.

When I was little, I used to wish for a sister. But turns out, having a brother was even better.

We rode for a few minutes in silence, each thinking our own thoughts. I slumped down in the seat and watched Mr. Spirko’s hands on the wheel. He had huge, rough looking hands. They were scarred and there were some funny symbols tattooed across his knuckles. “Mr. Spirko?” I called.

His eyes met my gaze in the review mirror, “Miss Jackson?”

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

To my surprise, his droopy face lifted in a smile. “Yep.”

My mouth dropped open, and beside me, Alex groaned and covered his eyes with one hand.

I wasn’t as shocked by his answer as I was surprised to see him smile. He looked like he could kill someone with his bare hands. “Yeah, but were they bad guys?”

His eyes left the mirror and went back to the road. “Yep.”

I wanted to ask him lots more questions. Was he a soldier? Was he a secret body guard? Did he use his giant troll hands to crush his enemies, or did he use a weapon? Did he know Kung Fu? Did he know any famous wrestlers? But when I opened my mouth to ask, Alex poked me in the ribs and shook his head at me, like he was trying to give me a silent warning.

So I closed my mouth again.

At the school, the drive way spot into two lines. The buses pulled up in front of the main entrance to unload, while the cars went to the right, and dropped their children off on the right. We waited, pulling ahead slowly, one car length at a time, until it was our turn to get out. And then Mr. Spirko parked and got out to open Alex’s door.

I climbed out last with my backpack and my new lunchbox and grinned up at Mr. Spirko. “Bye Spirko!” I said, dropping the mister like Alex always did. “Have a nice day! Don’t kill anyone, okay?”

He looked at me with a funny expression under his eyebrows. “I’ll try. Good day, Miss Joy.” And he turned and climbed back into the driver’s seat. I got the feeling he wanted to watch us walk inside, but he had to pull away before the minivan behind us got impatient and started honking their horn.

I wondered if he meant, “I’ll try to have a good day,” or “I’ll try not to kill anyone.”

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< Chapter Thirty-Two Booger-Brain