The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 117

Chapter 117 À Paris

Mia’s POV

+25 BONUS

“Me? Nothing!” Her expression of wounded innocence wouldn’t have fooled a toddler. “He mentioned needing to check on the Paris office weeks ago. Is it my fault their audit coincides with our trip?”

“Scarlett,” I said slowly, “did you arrange a corporate audit just to send your brother to Paris while we’re there?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she laughed. “I don’t have that kind of power.”

“Your husband does,” I pointed out.

She shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips. “Morton may have mentioned some accounting irregularities that required personal attention from the finance team. Pure coincidence.”

“Right,” I said flatly. “Pure coincidence that your brother–whom you’ve been trying to set me up with for months–happens to be going to Paris at the exact same time we are, staying at the exact same hotel.”

“The universe works in mysterious ways,” she said, examining her manicure with sudden interest.

I sighed, leaning back against the headrest. “Scarlett, I know you mean well, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I’m pregnant with twins, still legally divorcing my ex–husband, and focusing on my career. Dating is the absolute last thing on my mind.”

“Who said anything about dating?” she asked innocently. “Thomas is just being a good brother–in–law, looking out for his sister and her pregnant friend in a foreign city. Safety in numbers and all that.”

“Uh–huh,” I said skeptically.

“Look,” her voice softened, “I know you’ve been through hell with Kyle. I was there, remember? I saw what that marriage did to you. But Thomas isn’t Kyle. He’s stable, reliable, and secretly hilarious once you get past the serious exterior.”

“I know he’s a good guy,” I assured her. “That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

I tried to articulate the complicated tangle of emotions that made the idea of dating feel impossible. “I need to figure out who I am now, em, post–Kyle, pre–motherhood. I’m in this weird limbo where I’m not sure of anything except that I need to focus on myself and these babies.”

Scarlett nodded. “I get it. And I’ll back off the matchmaking. Mostly.”

“Thank you,” I said, with doubt.

“But,” she continued, holding up one perfectly manicured finger, “I reserve the right to point out when eligible, non–terrible men show interest in you. As your best friend, that’s just good information management.”

I laughed despite myself. “Fine. But no more orchestrating ‘coincidental‘ meetings, deal?

“Deal,” she agreed, eyes twinkling. “Though I maintain this particular coincidence had nothing to do with me.”

“Sure it didn’t,” I said dryly. “Just like you had ‘nothing to do with Nate showing up at that gallery opening last month.”

“That was genuine coincidence!” she protested. “How was I supposed to know he donated to that children’s art charity:

“Uh–huh,” I echoed her earlier skepticism. “The universe works in mysterious ways.”

She grinned, unrepentant. “Exactly.”

The remainder of the flight passed uneventfully. By the time we began our descent into Paris, I had dozed off again, waking to Scarlett gently shaking my shoulder.

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Chapter 117 À Paris

“Rise and shine, sleeping, beauty,” she sing–songed. “We’re almost there.”

+25 BONUS

Tblinked groggily, disoriented from my nap. The cabin windows showed evening skies, the time change already confusing my internal clock. “What time is it?”

“Almost eight PM, local time,” Morton answered, returning from his business calls. He looked fresh and alert, as if the transatlantic flight had been a quick commute across town. “We’ll be on the ground in approximately seventeen minutes.”

“How does he do that?” I whispered to Scarlett. “Seven hours on a platte and he looks like he just stepped out of a board meeting,

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“Morton family secret,” she whispered back. “I think it involves virgin blood and Excel spreadsheets, but I haven’t confirmed yet.”

I stifled a laugh as Morton raised an eyebrow at us, pretending not to hear.

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