Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Oh God,” I wail, throwing my head back. When Sara handed me the dress bag at the bridal shower and waited for me to open it, it took every stitch of decency within me to feign excitement. It helped that my mother stood behind her, spearing me with a warning glare that promised disownment if I dared speak the truth.
“Mom.” Scarlet scowls from her spot on the couch, a stack of math tests to grade.
“What? She asked for the truth.” Dottie collects my hands in hers. “But don’t you worry, my darling. By the time I’m done with this, you’ll be turning more heads than the bride.”
“I don’t think that’s the look she’s going for.” Scarlet shifts back to grading.
“Well, that’s the only look I know how to do.” Dottie winks at me. Sliding on a stylish pair of glasses, she begins tucking pins along my shoulder seam with the same ease she takes scissors to hair. “When’s this wedding?”
“Four weeks. Is this doable?”
She waves a dismissive hand. “Plenty of time to get this dress perfect. Are they ready for their big day?”
“They’re getting there. It sounds like Sara’s got it all under control.” Most of the conversation at the shower was about the planning. The invitations went out right after the engagement party, they’ve picked their meal, and booked their honeymoon. A string quartet will play for the ceremony, and they booked the live band that was supposed to play at the wedding that canceled and vacated the spot Sara and Joe nabbed.
When I brought up the bachelorette party, Sara informed me it would be in two weeks in New York, and that Isabelle had taken care of it. I just need to show up, i.e., I’ve been cut out of the planning. Then she patted my knee, her eyes twinkling as she whispered, “The guys are doing this sophisticated sommelier-guided tequila tasting throughout the city, and Garrett will be there.”
I bit my tongue against the urge to tell her that the sommelier is a frat-boy named Matt whose expertise was earned over many years of passing out drunk at bars, and that the only tequila they’ll be tasting will be while watching women get naked, because that’s the only type of bachelor party Bill would ever plan. At least, that’s the Bill I knew. Has Isabelle changed him that much?
And as if I care that Garrett will be there.
“Guess what their wedding favors are.” I pause. “Boxes of macarons flown in from Sara’s favorite patisserie in Paris.”
Dottie whistles. “Someone’s not countin’ pennies.”
“Yeah, they deal in hundred-dollar denominations. You should see her parents’ penthouse. They’re art aficionados. They have rocks that are worth more than my entire existence.”
“Any single, rich relatives I need to meet?” Her eyebrows waggle.
“I’m pretty sure her uncle Richard is—”
“No.” Scarlet glares at me.
“Oh, honey, of course I’m only kidding. I would never do that to Griffin. He’s such a sweet man.” More quietly, Dottie adds, “But in case it doesn’t work out with him, who’s this rich uncle?”
“The silver fox HG developer I picked a fight with.”
Dottie frowns. “Wait, the HG guy is Sara’s uncle?”
“And Garrett’s, the one Justine’s pretending she doesn’t want to screw,” Scarlet says.
“Scar!” That’s the last thing I need cycling around town, and with Dottie on the seat, the pedals move fast.
“What? You’ve been a bear since he left.”
“That’s not true.”
Scarlet gives me a flat look.
Okay, it’s mildly true. Last week wasn’t so bad. This week has dragged, though. I took a lot of trips to the dumpster behind Murphy’s—to toss an apple core, one Styrofoam soup bowl, a candy wrapper—and each time I looked out on the empty spot in the parking lot, my frustration ballooned.
He teased the idea of coming back, just for me. Philadelphia is only an hour away. Why couldn’t he come back to Polson Falls even once? The truth is, he could have if he wanted to. That reality sank my mood lower each time, and Shirley’s warning echoed in my ear. This is all a game for him, a means to getting what he wants in the end.
Dottie gasps. “Has something happened between you two?”
“No.”
Scarlet grunts.
A hard knuckle wraps on the door, interrupting this dangerous conversation. “Excuse me, did someone call about a fire?” Shane strolls in wearing full firefighter gear. Every time he’s in the area, he makes a point of stopping in. I think it’s to witness Scarlet’s cheeks redden when she sees him in uniform.
I jerk my chin toward her. “That one’s loins are burning. Better come quick.”
Dottie barks with laughter at the double entendre as Shane crosses the room to plant a kiss on Scarlet’s lips. “Hey, babe. Was in the neighborhood.”
Dean lingers at the door.
“There he is. How’s my big boy doin’ tonight?” Dottie winks at him.
He grins, his cheeks flushing. “Hey, Dottie.” His gaze shifts to me. “That’s … uh … not like the other one.”