Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
In the next pic, Barrett is smiling down at Wren in front of a backdrop that reads “Loose Slots and Looser Women.” He’s wearing a vintage suit costume with a tall black hat and my sister is dressed like the owner of a Victorian brothel, complete with boob-squishing corset. I’m not sure if he’s smiling at her face or at her cleavage, but either way it counts.
So does the picture of the two of them laughing their heads off inside a haunted mansion and a shot of Barrett holding Wren upside down in front of an upside-down house. By the time we get to the last shot—a close-up portrait of the two of them smiling into each other’s shining eyes in front of the man who married them—I’m too tipsy to keep going.
“Gotta stop, no more shots,” I say, my words slurring a little. “I have to get up early tomorrow with the fur and feather babies. I can’t afford a hangover.” I sniff and point to my phone. “But I still love you guys. You’re going to have a beautiful life together.”
I text Wren as much. She texts back that she and Barrett are getting ready to head to dinner after their afternoon “nap,” and that she’ll check in on Sunday morning before they fly home. “I love love,” I say, lifting my water glass to the backyard, now drenched in sunset light that makes the first fall leaves glow red and yellow above the still green grass.
“Me, too.” Nora sighs, gazing wistfully out to where Keanu and Kyle are playing in the sandbox I set up for them not far from Barrett’s grill station. “I guess I should try to date. There just never seems to be time.”
“I hear you,” I say. “I’ve been killing myself at my new job. I don’t want them to have any doubts that picking me to be Christian’s boss instead of vice versa was the right call.”
Nora hums beneath her breath. “Yeah, I can see why you’d worry. He’s older and a guy and has been with the organization longer, even if it was just in a volunteer capacity.” She shrugs. “But you won’t have to worry about that soon, so that’s good.”
I glance her way, my brows pinching together. “What?”
Nora blinks her slightly hazy-looking blue eyes. “He’s going to work for Warm Hearts, the emergency shelter for unhoused women non-profit over in Minneapolis.”
I lean forward, bracing my arms on the patio table as my eyes go wide. “What?”
“You didn’t know?” Nora tugs at the neck of her fluffy black sweater. “Oh no, maybe I wasn’t supposed to say anything. My friend Katia told me when I was over there donating a bunch of socks that didn’t sell last quarter. Turns out my clients don’t want socks. Or sock caps. Basically, anything sock or sock adjacent isn’t going to fly. Though they did really like the berets so I’m bringing those back for my winter collection this year.”
“When?” I ask, not doubting her intelligence for a minute. I’m not friends with Katia, the woman who founded Warm Hearts, but I know she’s the head of the board. If she says Christian is in, he’s in. “When does he start?”
“November, I think?” Nora says, clearly uncomfortable. “But I could be wrong. Ugh, I feel awful. I should have kept my mouth shut. I didn’t mean to spill Christian’s secrets. But Katia is very excited to have him and then he’ll be out of your hair, too. So that’s probably a good thing, right?”
I huff, waving a dismissive hand as I sag back into my chair. “Totally. It’s a great thing. Who cares where Christian goes next as long as it’s far away from me?”
I care, that’s who.
Christian and I have actually been getting along really well the past couple months. He even offered to teach me how to ride a motorcycle and was really helpful when Kyle tried to jump into the cake at the wedding. In fact, for a few seconds there, as we were locked in a janitor’s closet with a pouting, gargling Kyle pacing the floor between us, waiting it out until the cake was cut and safely tucked away in the marina’s kitchen again, I thought he might kiss me.
The way he was looking at me…
The way his head bent closer to mine…
The way my lips tingled every time his gaze dropped to my mouth…
But he didn’t kiss me. He didn’t make a move and neither did I.
I’m his boss, after all, and that’s something I take seriously. I don’t want to abuse my power or make one of my employees feel like they can’t say no to my amorous advances. And then there’s the added hiccup of Christian being my brand-new brother-in-law’s brother. If we had a failed romance, Thanksgiving dinner could get real awkward, real quick.