Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Living the life of a couple, knowing full well that could never be their reality.
Chloe forced humor onto her face, even though her windpipe had sealed itself shut. “No, I’m not his girlfriend. Of course not. My mother is marrying his father. Soon, too!” Smile. Bigger. That’s not big enough. Keep going. “In two months, actually. I just got back from a wedding dress fitting with my mother in Paris. Wedding preparations are well underway. It’s going to be the social event of the season, although people in Connecticut say that about every event, right down to the Botox parties. It really has lost all meaning.”
Irving stared back at her. “You’re Gauthier’s . . . stepsister.”
“Future. We’re not related by marriage yet.”
“So for now, you’re . . .”
Friends. Best friends.
Right.
“I think you’ve gotten enough for tonight,” Tallulah slid in, looking distinctly worried. “If you don’t mind, we’d love to watch the rest of the game.”
Irving shook himself. “Of course.” As soon as the reporter stood up, someone screamed puck in play. “Uh . . .” He awkwardly hunkered halfway down, producing a white laminated rectangle from his pocket and handing it over to Chloe. “Here is my business card if you want to say anything else.”
Chloe looked at the card. “Oh. It really does say ‘glorified grunt.’”
The man flashed a distracted grin. “Told you so.”
She shook her head. “Why would people be interested in my relationship with Sig?”
“What can I say? Boston loves a rumor. They also love black-and-white facts.” His gaze ticked down to her jersey and back up. “When you can find a way to give them both, they eat it up, spoon and all.”
“That doesn’t sound awesome,” Chloe said slowly.
“Timing-wise, it is. There is a list being published this week naming Boston’s most eligible bachelors and Gauthier is right on top.”
Flames erupted in Chloe’s throat. The man who rubbed her back until she fell asleep some nights, the man who was slowly teaching her how to drive, the man who’d taken her to her first food truck festival and coached her through the process of frying an egg . . . was being announced as single and ready to mingle. “You’re kidding. That’s amazing.” Irving was regarding her closely, so she forced herself to laugh, wincing inwardly when it fell flatter than a pancake. “I’m so thrilled for him.”
Irving hummed. “Well. It has been nice meeting you both. Remember, if you want to expand on anything you’ve told me, my line is always open.”
“Great,” Chloe said, tucking the card into her clutch bag. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you.”
Chloe watched the reporter walk away with an increasing sense of queasiness. “This isn’t going to be good, is it?”
“Probably not,” Tallulah said without missing a beat.
The dread in her belly thickened. “Sig will know what to do. He always does.”
Tallulah was quiet as the game clock ran out and the players cleared the ice, preparing for extra time. But the third time the Zamboni passed, she broke her silence. “Chloe, we’ve cried into mugs of hot chocolate together. I crashed in your guest room when me and Burgess were going through our own drama. We’ve witnessed each other in various states of angst and thus, I consider us close friends . . .”
“We are. You’re my closest friend, besides—”
“Sig. I know.”
Chloe’s face warmed. Friends didn’t stare into each other’s eyes like it was their final moments on earth, the way she did with her future stepbrother, but what else could she call him? “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“You sense correctly.” After a brief glance over her shoulder, Tallulah leaned in. “Look, I’ve told myself this is none of my business over and over again. Maybe part of me was even afraid to ask. But the more time you and I spend together, the more I notice your relationship with Sig is very . . . unusual. And I hope you don’t mind me saying that this upcoming wedding seems to be stressing you out. Which is normal! Your parent is getting married. But I guess what I’m trying to say is . . . are you stressed for a different reason?” The volume of her voice fell another degree. “Bluntly put, is there something romantic between you and Sig?”
“No!” Chloe said on a burst of air, out of pure reflex, because while she lived for what felt like stolen moments with Sig, she couldn’t help but be ashamed of them, too.
Ashamed of herself.
Her mother was so in love. So gloriously happy. Sure, Chloe and Sofia’s relationship had a whopping share of tension, her mother demanding details about Chloe’s life in Boston before she’d deposit money into Chloe’s bank account. Their Paris trip had been ruthlessly overscheduled with fittings, personal shopping excursions, and meetings with “friends” Sofia had collected on vacations over the years, but during their one-on-one moments, her mother had managed to land numerous subtle digs about Chloe’s lack of survival skills, hinting that it was only a matter of time before Chloe returned to Darien. Coaxing her to come home.