Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
In her early teens, she went through a phase where she was boy-crazed. I remember my father calling and asking me to talk some sense into her because I wasn’t the same at her age. But Honey and I couldn’t be more opposite. She’s bubbly, sweet, and she always talks to people with kindness.
As she grew older, our communication dwindled a little bit more each year. She was always happy with the fact that one day, she would be married and have children. It’s the romantic in her where I have done everything humanly possible to run far away from that idea and life.
“I’m excited to see her as well. I do have to see a friend tomorrow who had a baby recently.”
“Oh, that’s lovely.” My father puts an arm around me as we walk to his car, where his driver takes my bags as we climb in.
“You should tell her,” my stepmother says.
“Tell me what?”
“Your sister has had a lot going on lately,” my father says.
“Okay.”
“I just hope you can cheer her up,” he adds, looking at Sharon, who shakes her head.
Well, that was weird.
But being cryptic is definitely my father’s thing.
We pull up at the restaurant, and I brush my hands down my trousers. I should have probably asked to go home and shower first and do my makeup. I look like I haven’t slept for hours, which I didn’t, and I’m still wearing the sweats I wore on the plane. My hair is up in a messy bun, and my face is bare.
My father places his hand on my back as he tells me about a new business he has opened. As soon as we enter, I hear my father say Honey’s name.
When I look up, I stop dead in my tracks.
Sitting next to her is Crue.
He’s whispering something in her ear, and she’s smiling and giggling at him. Her eyes find mine, and she stills. Her lips pinch to a flat line before she stands.
And that’s when I see it.
A fucking massive engagement ring on her finger.
I look at Crue to see him eyeing me with venom.
“It’s okay, dear, just breathe,” my stepmother says. “It will all be over soon.”
I don’t want to breathe.
For fuck’s sake, I want to knock myself out and pretend I didn’t just walk in on this… this nightmare playing out in front of me.
Maybe it’s a joke.
Maybe she’s engaged to someone else and not him.
I turn my gaze back to Honey, her chestnut-colored hair curled and framing her face. Her eyes, which are the same as mine, stare back at me. Where mine are more than likely dead, hers are vibrant and full of life.
It takes both of us a moment to move. And when we do, I gather myself and walk around to where Honey’s now standing. Ignoring him, I reach for Honey and pull her in for a one-armed hug while she puts both arms around me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I know you’ve been busy with the promotion, and I didn’t want to take that moment away from you,” she whispers.
Honey becoming engaged is no issue at all for me.
But the certain someone who is the intended groom, however…
Do I even have the right to be angry at anyone?
I mean, I shot the asshole to get him away from me.
And here he is.
Sitting with a smug look on his face.
Like he’s won.
Pulling back, I smile at Honey and ignore Crue as I sit at the opposite end of the table. My father orders for me, already knowing what I like, then orders for the rest of the table.
When it goes quiet, Honey turns to me. “How’s life? I’ve missed you so much.”
“It’s good. Busy with work,” I tell her, keeping my answers short.
“Anyone new in your life?” she asks, and I see him twitch.
“I…”
“What about that guy you told me about last week? What was his name?” my father interrupts.
“Are you engaged?” I ask her, ignoring my father’s questions. When, really, I was telling him about Mr. Luca and my discussion around having a short trip to Italy since I hadn’t had a vacation since I started working at the firm. And I think he knew that.
The table falls silent. And Crue picks up his glass of wine, taking a sip.
“Yes,” Honey says.
“To?” I ask. “I would love to meet the man who has that honor,” I say a little louder.
“It’s Crue,” she says, looking to her left, where he’s not paying us any attention.
“Oh, wonderful. I brought a present for you. Though I didn’t know at the time who your fiancé was, it will be the best honeymoon gift. It’s red and lacy, perfect to wear to treat your husband.”
His head spins, his gaze burning into me.
I smile gracefully at him and hold up my glass. “Congrats, Crue. You’re finally getting what you want. A Ricci girl.”