Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
I pull open the door and step in, looking around and smelling coffee in the air, so I know that someone is already here. I walk into my office, the sun streaming in and making it super bright. I am the only office with side-to-side windows in the corner, which is why I did a built-in bench all along the wall with huge pillows. A white table sits right in front of the bench with two plush light pink chairs on the other side. A big photo album is in front, with all the different styles of food we've done over the years. Even though I have a desk, I spend most of my time sitting at this table. I love looking outside during the day and seeing the sun.
I put my purse on the table and walk over to my desk, grabbing the files I need. "Jesus, do you own any other color but black?” I hear Shelby say when she walks into my office. She is wearing a light peach skirt with a white halter top. Her own coffee is in one hand as the other hand carries a couple of folders.
"What?" I look down at my outfit. The black leather skirt fits me like a glove and goes down to my knees. The tight black sleeveless body suit also molds onto me, paired with black patent stilettos.
"I swear, you got engaged, and boom, everything you own is now black. It's like you are in mourning." She laughs at her own joke and then stops walking as she looks at me.
"What are you guys talking about?" Presley says, coming into the room wearing cream-colored pants with a baby-blue silk top tied around her neck with a big bow.
"Do you think I wear too much black?" I turn now and ask her.
"I mean, you can definitely give Morticia a run for her money. I was thinking it was your gothic stage." She shrugs. "I'm just happy that you didn't choose a black wedding dress."
"Can you imagine Mom's face?” Shelby adds, laughing as she walks over to the white desk and puts her stuff on it as she pulls out one of the chairs.
"I haven't worn that much black,” I huff.
"Okay," Shelby says, sitting down. "When was the last time you wore something other than black?"
"My thirtieth birthday party," I remind her, crossing my arms over my chest.
"And then you got proposed to and started wearing black," Presley points out. "Maybe it's your way of saying goodbye to your single life."
"That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard." I sit on the bench, knowing Presley likes to sit in the chair.
"Okay, fine,” Shelby says. "Tonight, I want you to go home and FaceTime me from your closet."
I glare at her. "Aren't you busy sucking your husband's dick until he chokes you?"
She throws her head back and laughs. "That was yesterday."
"Yeah, tonight it's her turn to ride his face,” Presley informs me, sitting down next to Shelby, who is just glaring at her. "Your voice carries. How is it my fault?"
"You could mind your own business." I point at Presley, who laughs.
"This from the woman who signed Shelby up on a dating site without telling her." Now it's my turn to glare at her.
"We did it together." My voice gets louder. "You think I came up with the name Shelby Wimbly by myself?" I shake my head.
"Okay, now that we got all this out of the way,” Presley says, changing the subject. "What did you want to have this meeting about?"
"A couple of things," I say, grabbing my files. "The first is that we have to go over the events we have scheduled while I'm gone," I tell them, and they open their own folders. "Also, I think it's time we switch up divisions." They both stop and look at me as if I’ve grown a second head. "I'm tired of doing just the food,” I lie to them, and I want to say they believe me, but they don't.
"You said just two weeks ago when I had to scramble for a new florist,” Shelby states, "that you never want to do what I do."
"Last month, I had to get a new vendor for our crystal," Presley says. "And you walked out of the room and said, ‘good luck with that.’"
"Yeah, well, I think that it's smart that we swap." I avoid their eyes, and I wait a minute, and when no one says anything, I look up at them. "What?" I ask, irritated.
"We are just waiting for the real reason.” Shelby picks up her coffee cup and brings it to her lips.
"Okay, fine." I take a deep breath. "Luke is back." I bring the cup of coffee to my lips, taking a sip and suddenly wishing it was scotch.
"What do you mean he's back?" Shelby asks, leaning back in her chair.