Angelique Rising by Lorain O'Neil

to admit, Angelique's ring, though no where near as expensive as Maureen's, was still somehow nicer. Better taste. Prettier. And that would register, even with Maureen. Younger and prettier, yes, that's what would be sticking in Maureen's craw.
                  "So when are you gonna lay all this on the family, bro?" George asked.
                  "No time like the present," Wyatt answered pulling out his cell phone and pushing buttons.
                  "Oh criminy," Angelique swallowed finally prying her eyes off her ring.
                  "Hello, Mom?" Wyatt said. "Yeah, hi. Look, I have some news for you. Yes, good news. I got married yesterday. We're here in Vegas on our way back, we just arrived at the airport. Mom? Mom?"
                  George's face splintered with laughter.
                  "Yes, that's George, he was best man. It was a very small ceremony, in my hotel room." And the bride was bombed out of her gourd, Wyatt didn't say. "Angelique. Angelique Reising. You remember the Gala? Remember that song I sang you liked so much? Yes, that's her. Twenty. A couple of weeks. Mom? Mom? ...Oh, hello, Dad."
                  "Tell him I won half a mill at the tables, that'll soften him up," George urged gleefully.
                  "Yes I did. No. No, I don't want one. It was my decision. A student at the university. Uncle Mal met her when we were at a restaurant once, ask him. Look, I know you all want to meet her, but I'm going to hold off on that for a few weeks, then I'll introduce you. No, I want to give her a chance to --hi, Mom. No... no dinners, no parties, let's postpone all that for a while. What --oh... Dad. NO SHE'S NOT!"
                  "I think we just got to the is-she-pregnant question," George grinned to Angelique. "Welcome to the family."
    *****
                  "Let me pour you a drink," Malcolm said to Maureen.
                  "I don't want a drink."
                  "Yes you do. And you sure as hell need one."
                  "I'd like one too, Daddy," Tinka asked hopefully. "I mean, it's quite an occasion."
                  They were sitting in Malcolm's study discussing one topic: the news of Wyatt's marriage.
                  "Did she say when he's getting back?" Maureen asked tersely.
                  "No, she said they were at the airport in Vegas with George, about to return. But she also said he doesn't want any family intrusions for a while so I wouldn't recommend you go tearing over there."
                  "A small one?" Tinka asked.
                  Malcolm turned his eyes to his daughter.
                  "You twenty-one yet?"
                  "In a couple of months..."
                  "Then that's when you shall be getting a drink."
                  "I can't believe he did this. To a singer . Tinka's age! And he's only known her for weeks . That fucking Gala." Maureen downed the drink Malcolm handed her and poured herself another.
                  "Stop your pacing and sit down. This isn't anything to get suicidal over."
                  Maureen pulled herself upright. She was five feet nine inches tall and she knew every one of those inches was luscious. Groomed. Coiffed. Blonded. But that girl... that girl had been special, even she had seen that. And so had Wyatt. She'd never get him back now.
                  "What if she doesn't want me working around him? I could lose my job , Malcolm. Then all I'd have to do would be the charity bookings at your Center."
                  Malcolm didn't give a rat's ass about Maureen's job at the company, let her go find a real one. He'd wanted the girl. And he really wanted to know why that half-pint eunuch Ira Silverberg had wanted her so desperately . Whatever