Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
A few minutes later, I’m straightening my black satin bow tie and shrugging into a black suit coat.
God, I look like a grade-A prick in this penguin suit.
An expensive grade-A prick, but a prick nonetheless.
Shoving the curtain aside, I step out of the dressing room and into the area where Blythe and Campbell are waiting.
Blythe gasps, placing a delicate hand on her collarbone. “How handsome are you? My goodness. Look at that. Campbell, isn’t he just striking?”
Campbell’s pretty blue gaze flutters up from her phone screen, and while I attempt to gauge her reaction, she gives me nothing. I’ve yet to determine if she finds me good-looking. Last night she stated that she thought I’d slept with almost forty women because I was attractive, but that doesn’t mean she finds me attractive. I don’t suppose it matters. She’s stuck with me regardless.
Meanwhile, Blythe continues to fawn.
“What do you think?” I ask my future wife as I turn around.
“It looks … like a tux …” She shrugs. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say?”
Blythe jabs an elbow into her daughter’s rib cage, leans in, and whispers something. Campbell’s heart-shaped mouth forms a knowing smile that vanishes in an instant.
“Sorry. You look very nice,” Campbell says without a trace of genuine emotion or excitement. “You’ll be the belle of the ball—whatever the guy version of that is.”
My gaze falls to that smart mouth of hers.
Twelve hours ago, that heart-shaped estuary was almost mine … until her father ruined the moment.
I’ve thought about her cherry lips more times lately than I’d ever admit to anyone.
All I wanted was a taste … a sample.
She’s a virgin.
I wouldn’t have taken it too far, too fast.
I’m a lot of things, but I’m not that.
I was hoping we’d pick up where we left off as soon as her father left, but no dice.
Campbell saw through me.
If we were chess pieces, she’d be a knight, never moving in any kind of straight line so you never know where she’s going to go next.
Unpredictable in a sense.
“Black and white is such a timeless combination,” Blythe muses as she rises and examines me from every angle. Tugging and pulling on various parts, she tells the tailor what to change and alter. “And you can never go wrong with Dior.”
Campbell rolls her eyes when Blythe isn’t looking. The more I’m around these two, the more I’m realizing how much name-dropping and brand-dropping Mrs. Wakemont does, especially in the presence of others.
It’s a bit over the top.
An unquestionable sign of insecurity too—which is shocking considering how much money the Wakemonts have. Granted, they’re no Delacortes, not even close, but they’re up there.
Campbell, on the other hand, has yet to wear a single item of clothing or accessory emblazoned with any kind of designer logos. At least not around me.
Last night at dinner, when her mother was going off about the Oscar de la Renta bridesmaid dresses that are running late, Campbell stated that they wouldn’t have had that problem had they gone with the local designer she wanted to support.
I stayed out of that battle, but remained quietly impressed with Campbell’s stance.
“Did I tell you what your fiancée tried to do the other day?” Blythe places her hand on my arm, her face pulled into a wide smile like she’s about to laugh at a joke she’s yet to tell.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“She tried to choose a black wedding gown.” Blythe slaps my arm. “Can you believe that?”
I steer my attention to Campbell, my little chess piece.
“Yes,” I say. “I can very much believe that, actually.”
“And then she tried to pick out funeral flowers,” Blythe continues, chuckling as she toys with the glimmering diamond pendant hanging from her neck. “She keeps me on my toes, this one. She’ll keep you on yours too.”
I don’t tell her that Campbell already does.
.
Slade—
I’m starting to think there’s got to be a way out of this stupid marriage thing. I tried talking to my school counselor about it, but she laughed and thought I was joking. She told me nobody can make anyone marry anyone else because it’s a free country. Maybe if we keep telling our parents we don’t want to do this, they won’t make us?
What are they going to do? Drag us down the aisle on our wedding day kicking and screaming in front of all those people?
Let me know what you think.
Campbell (age 12)
Campbell—
You don’t think I’ve already tried? I’m ten steps ahead of you. Let me know when you come up with an idea that’s smart and doesn’t actually suck.
Slade (age 13)
Slade—
If you’re ten steps ahead of me and nothing has worked, that means your ideas sucked too. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re fighting for the same cause.
You don’t always have to be a jerk.
Campbell (age 12)
Campbell—
My father always says being nice doesn’t pay yet I’m expected to be nice to you to get paid.