Free Incendiary by Kathryn Kelly

order couched as a polite request. His face flames red as he stands, his erection pressing against his slacks.
    “My office, now!” she hisses. “Wait for me there until I take care of Cassandra.”
    Swallowing, he scratches his nape. Not a strand of his wavy brown hair is out of place. I didn’t know Parnell when he was Reed’s age, but somehow, he reminds me of my husband. The way he dresses, perhaps, with such care and looks at me as Parnell once did. The moment Reed lopes away and closes the door, Mother goes on her verbal assault.
    “I’ve had enough of your games, Cassandra.”
    “Games? Me? I’m not the one who’s hiring a surrogate father for Georgie’s baby.”
    “Stand-in, not surrogate,” she corrects. “Sloane Mason was more than happy to plant his own baby in her.”
    Whatever high I’d gotten from my interaction with Reed, craters at her reminder. Rage builds inside of me as I imagine Sloane fucking Georgie and coming in her. He used a condom with me. What became of them when he stuck his dick in her?
    “He made her pregnant on purpose.” Georgie allowed him in her pussy, but she’s still under-aged. He’s losing a lot because of her. “That’s not important,” I continue in dismissal. “I want to know why we haven’t moved forward with the adoption?”
    “Do you have any feelings for her at all?”
    Certain this is a trick question, my head spins as I search for the best way to respond. I come up blank. “Why?” I ask carefully.
    Another brow lift directed at me makes me examine my deepest throughts.
    “Mother, she was my daughter—”
    “She’s still your daughter.”
    Squeezing my temples, I ignore her hard tone. “She needed to learn to stand on her own two feet. Parnell and I thought it best. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…those are important years. If we solved all her problems, she’d never learn to fix her own life.”
    Mother’s snort grates. “Remind me of how old you are, dear? Aren’t I still fixing your problems?”
    “That’s different!”
    At my words, she returns to her seat and crosses her legs again. “Humor me and explain how.”
    “As if I know. It just is. Daddy died years ago. You had nothing else but me to concern yourself with. It’s your duty. I would never embarrass you or compete with you. I know better. Georgiana didn’t back off when her father made me feel as if I were worthless. She encroached on the younger man who thought I was beautiful and made me feel alive.”
    Why can’t she get that? How many times will I have to reiterate why I needed Sloane to need me? Tears rush to my eyes. “While Parnell had his affairs, I could’ve been happy sleeping with Sloane.”
    “Would you have been?” she asks in a gentler tone. “He would’ve been traveling the world and sleeping with every woman who wanted him. Which is every woman.”
    I cry harder. “You don’t.”
    She chuckles. “We repel one another,” she admits. “But I’ve had my share of younger men. The gardener for instance. He’s thirty. Happily married. A great lover.”
    Disgust dries my tears up. “That’s goddamn gross, Mother.” Just the images are vomit-inducing.
    “Suppose you’d seen him first and wanted him?”
    I know what she’s getting at. “She didn’t see him first!”
    “She did, and we both know it.”
    After Mother told me, I found out about it. How she discovered Georgie met Sloane at the party the day before he fucked me, doesn’t interest me. I remain silent.
    “Cassandra, dear, as your mother, if you were interested in my gardener, I’d step back and let you have him.”
    “Again, Mother, it’s your job to make me happy. I have a son, a husband, and a social life. My time is more valuable than focusing on her.”
    “Your insight amazes me, dear.” Mother’s smile is condescending. “When you gave birth to the child, what did you expect of her?”
    “Does it matter?” I ask crossly. “This has nothing to do with Sloane. By the way, I’d