Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Of course, that would be his first question. For most of our lives we were a trifecta. “She’s getting in later today.”
I wondered if he’d notice differences in her through their long distance communication. I decided not to influence him by sharing my Elle drama and simply see what conclusions he drew on his own. If Tyler felt the need to say something he would.
He frowned. “Shouldn’t she be here early? She’s your maid of honor.”
I found it easiest to minimize my feelings and act like things didn’t bother me when, in reality, it really, really bothered me that Elle wasn’t arriving until the very last minute—with Paul.
So I smiled. “I’m not worried. I’ve got you here now, my ultimate bride-kick.”
He laughed. “Clever.”
“That’s me.” I glanced at my mother who was trying to lift a painting off the wall to see if anything was printed on the back. “Hi, Mom.”
“Oh.” She abandoned the art and turned. “On Antiques Road Show they teach you how to appraise things like this. You never know if something’s a work of art.”
I kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She hardly acknowledged my hug as she continued her inspection of everything that wasn’t nailed down. “Is that lamp real crystal?” She crossed the room and nudged the heavy accent piece. “ It is! Actual crystal. Imagine that.”
“That’s great, Mom. How was your flight?”
“Oh!” She drew in a long breath. “You should have seen the way they took care of us in first class. They gave us heated washcloths and blindfolds. I even had a cocktail before ten a.m. I might still be drunk!”
I glanced at Tyler and he shook his head and muttered behind his hand, “It was a cranberry juice with a splash of Malibu.” He looked around the room. “Where’s Hale?”
“He and Elara should be here around lunch time. I need to get dressed and fed.”
“You’re a bride, not a horse.”
“I am the bride, so you’re not supposed to lecture me. I’m feeling peckish. We should go downstairs before they switch from breakfast to afternoon tea. Did you guys eat?”
“I had a coffee before our flight.”
“So?”
Tyler did one of those adorable glances at his trim stomach and sighed. “I’m starving.”
“Perfect. The food here’s delicious.”
“How did I know you were going to ruin my wedding diet?”
“Um, because you know me and you also know diets are dumb. But you know what’s not dumb? Chocolate croissants. The ones they serve downstairs are to die for.” I was glad my appetite had returned. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.”
As I washed up in the bathroom, Tyler lingered by the door. “I got an email from someone named Quinn. I have to get my tux at two.”
“That’s fine. Hale and I have a couple’s massage this afternoon.” I edged my way past him to peruse the closet.
I didn’t have a daytime outfit for today, so I just threw on jeans and a lightweight sweater. It was much nicer in New York now that the weather had broken and the snow had melted. But evenings were still chilly.
“I just have to pull up my hair.” I flipped my head and twisted my waves into a stable knot that looked more intentionally messy than incompetent.
When we got to breakfast I peppered Tyler with one question after another, needing a full run down on hometown gossip.
“They tore down the White Lotus Café.”
“No,” I said with a great sense of loss. The hundred-year-old hangout was a social landmark in Portland. It had been closed for years, but I thought it should have stayed as a sort of monument.
“Yup. Demolished. They’ll probably build a storage facility there or some other tacky structure.”
“They should build another café.”
“Yeah, that’s just what Oregon needs.”
“This is real silver.” My mom remarked, lifting the cutlery and informally weighing it by balancing it between her fingers.
She was on sensory overload. Every time we passed a chandelier or a plant or a person wearing any sort of fashionable attire, she stopped and asked random strangers questions.
“Oh, where did you get that hat?”
“Do you know if the sconces are original from when the hotel was built?”
“What kind of plant is this? Is it poisonous to cats? Rayne, cut off a small leaf so I can take it home and propagate it.”
When I refused to hack into the hotel greenery she pouted. It was like walking with a toddler through a no-touch museum.
“Do you think this is tap water?”
“Mom, eat.” One more question and my head was going to explode.
“I think I’ll wash my hands.” She excused herself to visit the restroom and I watched her stop a bellman on the way. What on earth could she be asking him?
“You’re cranky,” Tyler commented.
“She acts like she’s never been in public before.”
“Yeah, I know. Her daughter acts the same way sometimes.”