Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
But honestly, this dress flatters me in all the right places.
Frankie sucks in a breath. “Mandy, you look gorgeous!”
“I love it,” I say. “But it’s nothing like what you originally chose.”
“I know. It’s sure not.” She laughs. “Isabella will absolutely hate it. But Gigi will look adorable in it.”
“I do like it,” I say, “but it’s up to you.”
“You know what? Let’s go with it. It’s totally not what I had in mind, but maybe that even makes it better.”
“Perfect,” Martha says. “I actually have these in stock in all of your bridesmaids’ sizes. The tall one will probably require some alterations, but Mandy here and the other bridesmaid should have no problem with their regular size.”
“Perfect. Thank you so much, Martha, for opening for me.”
“Of course. This is totally our fault. Well…the manufacturer’s fault. I don’t normally like to pass the buck, but I will on this one.”
“Snafus happen,” I say. “And this dress…the color, the design. I have to tell you it’s not what I originally had in mind, but I love it.”
“I’m so glad, Mandy,” Frankie says. “Oh…and I need to apologize to you.”
“What for?”
“For Penn and his big mouth. I’m so sorry that he said that stuff to Jackson.”
My stomach bottoms out. “What stuff?” I choke out.
Frankie clasps her hand to her mouth. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Just forget I said anything.”
“Oh, no. You’re not going to open up that can of worms and not tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”
“I swear, Penn has the biggest mouth.”
“Just tell me, Frank. What did Penn say to Jack?”
“Apparently, this happened a month ago, but he didn’t bother to tell me until yesterday. He might’ve told Jackson that…you’re in love with him.”
I freeze. She didn’t just say what I think she said. Wasn’t I just thinking wonderful thoughts about my little sister?
“Frank, how could you?”
“It was just…”
“We’ve never even talked about that.”
“I know. But I just always suspected… I mean, isn’t it true?”
“Does it even matter if it is? Why would you talk to Penn about that?”
“It was just casual conversation. I had no idea he was going to go to Jack with it.”
Everything is finally making sense. Why Jackson is being such an ass. Why he didn’t call me this morning after he promised.
“Damn it, Frankie. What the hell am I going to do now?”
“If Jackson hasn’t said anything to you, just do nothing. Pretend you don’t know. Pretend it’s not true.”
“It’s not.”
“Mandy…”
No. I am not going to cry. I’m not going to cry over Jackson Paris, who gave me the most amazing time of my life last night, told me he loves me, but then neglected to call me this morning when he was supposed to. Now I get it. He thinks I’ll read too much into his postcoital words. How many others has he said those words to in the throes of orgasm? I feel sick. Really sick.
“I have to go,” I say abruptly.
“Mandy, I’m sorry.”
“That doesn’t really help me right now.”
“I wish I hadn’t mentioned it. I just assumed Jack had gone to you about it, and the two of you had a good laugh.”
“I’m really sick of people assuming things about me,” I say, but there’s no bite in my words.
All these years, Jackson assumed I was some sweet and innocent schoolgirl with whom he couldn’t share his deepest fantasies. And now Frankie assumes I’m in love with my best friend. She’s right, of course, but it’s not like she had any way of knowing.
Do I really wear my heart on my sleeve like that? Do I have “I love Jackson Paris” tattooed on my forehead?
I may as well.
I step out of the bridal shop, head to the subway station, and get on the train.
Only to have a woman with two grocery bags bump into me and knock me to the dirty subway floor.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, ma’am.”
I pick myself up, not bothering to wipe off the dust, and grab a pole. “Not a problem. This is actually the highlight of the day I’ve had.”
…
Monday morning, and Jackson still hasn’t called. After getting a few hours of work in and eating my light breakfast, I head to the gym for my appointment with Michael.
“Let’s chat a bit,” he says.
“What about?”
He cocks his head. “About your goals and objectives, Mandy. What did you think I wanted to talk about?”
God, the embarrassment, the warmth of the blush. Either he forgot he wanted to see me outside the gym, or he changed his mind.
“I don’t know where my head is this morning. Okay. Goals and objectives. Just to tone up a little before my sister’s wedding in two months.”
“You don’t actually want to lose weight?”
The blush again. “Do you think I need to?”
“No, but a lot of women think they need to look supermodel thin.” He reddens. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to imply—”