When they arrived, Molly was about to get out when she remembered him. Covering the phone's mic, she said, "Thanks. And don't forget to get the brooch back—brother."
Miles's expression went cold. He let out a derisive scoff. She'd slipped into her role fast enough.
He stayed in the car, watching through the window as a crowd surrounded her.
He pulled out a cigarette, bent his head to light it, and sent Felix Henson his location—asking him to pick him up. He wasn't waiting for her.
Less than a minute later, Felix's voice call came through. "Bro, your wife becoming your sister—is that actually true?"
"Who told you?" Miles's voice was frigid.
"Your mom. She wants to throw Mol—I mean, your sister—a matchmaking party at the old estate this Saturday. Asked me to round up some decent-looking, reliable guys." A pause. "Bro, Molly's gorgeous. You two were never together together? Don't you think that's a waste?"
Miles ground his teeth. "And how would you know that?"
Felix didn't hold back. "Your mom again. She said, 'A wife that beautiful and he makes her his sister—is Miles an idiot?' The whole circle's talking. The going theory is you've got... performance issues."