Page 44 of Saint

It was semi-true.

“Tori was holding a tortoise in her hands when I stumbled across her. I couldn’t tell what was more striking – the tortoise, her, or the both of them combined,” Saint added with the assist.

“Well, you always were a stickler for strange creatures,” Mrs. Miller nodded to her son.

The comment prompted me to discipline my features. The rise she sought to gain from me wouldn’t be awarded.

“By the way, Victoria, you don’t have to call me ma’am. After all, we’re family now. You can call me Mama.”

I knew I was the first woman to cross her threshold, thanks to Serenity’s heads up. I knew she likely felt protective over her son – the sentiment was shared. But Mrs. Miller had been sordidly mistaken. Not the one nor two, the time came for a line to be drawn in the sand. I sat my fork down, taking a breath to compose myself before I spoke again.

“Is there another name you’d like for me to call you?” Adjusting my gaze, I shot a look in her direction.

“Is there a problem with Mama?”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Miller, I only have one mother. I understand you’re my mother-in-law, but you haven’t yet been endearing or motherly toward me for me to feel comfortable with giving you that title as it concerns me.”

Already, I knew Mrs. Miller was attempting to lay into me. Confident and firmly, I stood my ground. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I wasn’t built to sit idly and take shit from anyone, regardless of their age or status. Respect was earned.

“Mrs. Miller will do just fine.” She plastered on a fake smile and returned to her plate.

“Well!” Serenity half shouted across the table. “I’ve been following your work for a while, Victoria. I don’t necessarily do the whole covered thing, but I have a few pieces from your last collection. I love pairing them with showier pieces.”

“Really?” I nodded in Serenity’s direction. She and I would be fast friends. Already, I’d made the determination. She and I had sisterhood chemistry. It would be foolish not to embrace her.

“I’ll have to get you down to the next show if that’s something that may be of interest to you.”

“Swear! Oh my gosh, yes! Just send me the details,” Serenity gasped.

“So, Victoria, you’re a fashion designer, huh?”

That question came from Sincere. For most of the evening, he’d been quiet. Of the four siblings, he resembled Saint the most. The pair shared their father’s looks. Supreme and Serenity shared their mother’s.

“I am,” I confirmed.

“How does that mesh with the boring shit Saint does?” He asked, pointing a fork housing chicken in Saint’s direction.

“Language, Sincere,” Mr. Miller frowned, causing Sincere to hold his palms up in surrender.

“My bad, Pops.”

“I find Saint’s job extremely interesting and inspirational,” I clipped, rolling my eyes. The evidence of my annoyance didn’t go unnoticed.

“My bad, boss lady. I meant no offense,” Sincere tittered. “Saint doesn’t really get into the logistics of his job. Hell, all I knew was that he worked in a lab.”

It soon dawned on me that Saint wasn’t as close to his family as he liked to project. Or maybe he wasn’t projecting at all. Maybe this was as close as he cared to be. In comparison to the rest of the world, maybe this was close for him. From under the table, I planted my hand on his lap. The display of reassurance and comfort caused him to face me. When our eyes connected, I squeezed against his toned thigh.

“Maybe you should take more time to get to know your brother,” I chastised, waiting for who else was next in my line of fire.

“Saint… have you taken some time to consider what type of business you’ll be venturing into?” The question came from the king of the castle, Mr. Miller.

“Business? What business, Saint?” I asked. The question was directed more toward him than to the table, forgetting our present location.

Saint’s sigh pierced the air. “I’ll let you know, Pops.”

I absolutely loved discussing business plans. A guilty pleasure, it enthralled me. I couldn’t help myself at the mention of Saint getting into a venture of sorts. Demure was my baby, but prior to its conception, I had several other businesses that I loved equally. Dipping my tone for privacy, I asked, “What is your dad referring to, Saint? You never told me–”

“We’ll talk at home, Beauty.”