Lauren's POV
"The secret is you soak the chicken strips overnight in buttermilk first before you batter the pieces. If you pick up the stuff, I'll make it one night," I tell Christine.
She smiles and the corners of her eyes crinkle. The woman has to be close to sixty and she reminds me exactly of my mother. My poor mother was a casualty in my life. I miss her.
"You look nice, Camila," she tells me when the timer goes off.
I'm perched at the bar and have been watching her cook. She flits around the kitchen as if she were born to do so. I could watch and chat with her for hours. Just like Mom and I used to do.
"Thanks, Christine. At least someone in this house thinks so," I say with a groan.
My eyes travel over something "more presentable" and I sigh. I'd donned a pair of dark skinny jeans, an off the shoulder pale pink cashmere sweater Cartier had purchased, and a pair of ballet flats. After Laur was an asshole this morning, I bothered Cart enough to where he finally broke down and spent a couple hours fixing me up. She sets the lasagna on a hot pad and walks over to stand in front of me. Her hands go on her hips and she narrows her eyes at me.
"Sometimes you're too sassy for your own good. But, somehow that's what makes that girl crazy for you. I've never seen her take to one of her girls the way he takes to you. Try not to drive her too crazy or push her too hard and I think maybe you might just last longer than her silly six month time limit that's coming up. We like your refreshing personality here. And despite what you think, Laur knows. She knows that you are beautiful and intelligent and different. The other fellows, even fruity Cart, can't deny how stunning you are. Play your cards right, sweetie. I'd love to keep you."
My smile is immediate and I slide off the stool to run over to her. She envelopes me in her arms and I hug her tight. Inhaling her garlicky scent, I sigh into her hair. "I love you, Christine. You remind me of my mother."
She pulls away and taps me on the nose. "Your mother is a lucky lady."
Tears sting my eyes but I quickly blink them away.
"Miss, Ms. Jauregui and her dinner guest are speaking privately in her office," Dubois' clipped voice interrupts our exchange. "She's asked that you're at the table waiting for her. Christine, shall I tell her dinner is ready?"
Seemingly embarrassed, she tugs away from me and flutters around the kitchen. "Lasagna just came out of the oven. You may tell her it's ready."
I hold his stare for a minute. He's ever dapper in his neat suit and his disdain for me is clearly painted on his features. I'm not sure why he hates me. Not wanting to irritate him, I nod and make my way to the dining room. As I enter the room, so does Lauren.
And some pretty black haired woman.
"This must be your newest toy. What a pleasure to meet you," she says with a false smile before turning her adoring attention back to Laur.
"Bunny, this is Evette. She's a Luxer. Black membership."
I remember her mentioning we'd have guests to entertain from time to time, but so far, every time she brings someone else into the house, it ends in disaster.
"I see." I can't hide the disappointment in my voice. The woman seems better matched for her in her elegant black dress and oblong bobbed haircut. She is stunning and I'm . . . not.
However, Laur's hungry gaze is devouring my appearance as if I'm the beautiful one here, not her. She's shooting daggers at me with her eyes, clearly pissed at the revelation. Laur is sexy as hell so it's no surprise that most women fall all over themselves around her. I'm still upset with her for lying to me but since I feel threatened by the woman beside her, I'm itching to stake my claim. Even if that means not acting like a brat about her lying and my blow up earlier.
