Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Cross laughed. “Point taken. I won’t be long.”
Well, what fight could she put up, really?
“Fine,” she booed.
Cross winked, adding, “And I forgot, but Cam is coming over in a bit. I promised to take her out to a movie tonight, but then you came over, too. I couldn’t very well tell you no, and I already promised her, so ...”
“It’s fine.”
“Yeah?”
Catherine shrugged. “Sure.”
“I just ... I mean, you two don’t hang out very often together and all.”
“She’s your sister, Cross. It’s fine.”
But he also wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t that Catherine didn’t like Camilla Donati. In fact, it was quite the opposite. What she knew about Camilla, she did like quite a bit. The few times they did hang out, usually at Cross’s parents’ place for dinner or something, she didn’t mind it.
But did she have the girl’s number?
Did they chat?
Were they friends?
Not really.
Camilla was a couple years younger. In an entirely different place in her life. She did her own thing and the two of them never found time to find a middle ground between one another where they could forge a real friendship. Except for maybe Cross, but he was so busy even that he couldn’t be used for that, either.
So was life.
It just worked out that way sometimes.
“Listen, I’m fine,” she repeated to him, “you just get whatever you need done, and I’ll be here when you get back.”
“You better.”
He dropped another kiss to her lips.
Catherine smiled all over again.
*
The opening of the apartment’s front door had Catherine calling out, “Is that you, Camilla?”
It took a second for the girl to answer back.
“Uh, yeah?”
Catherine quickly grabbed the bowl of popcorn she’d made and headed for the living room. Camilla was just dropping her bookbag into a chair when Catherine came into the room.
“Cross had to run and do something. He figured—”
“We’re supposed to go to a movie tonight,” Camilla interjected.
“Yeah, I didn’t know about those plans until after I got here. I hope you don’t mind me tagging along later?”
Camilla gave Catherine a look from the side, and then shrugged. “Nah, I guess that’d be okay.”
She guessed?
Catherine really didn’t know much about Cross’s sister.
At all.
So much so, that other than offering the bowl of popcorn, the two girls barely spoke at all while Catherine started the episode on the television that she had left on pause while she made her snack. Not that Camilla seemed to mind the silence, but Catherine had to wonder if that was nothing more than politeness.
After all, she knew some things about this girl.
Cam liked to be loud.
Loved attention.
Or was that just with others?
Was she different in private?
“You know,” Camilla said beside Catherine on the couch, “that Cross is my best friend, right?”
“I didn’t know, but thanks for telling me.”
“You’re not close to your brother?”
Catherine considered Michel.
“I love my brother—we’re not best friends.”
And she was fine with that.
He’d do anything for her if she asked it of him. And she would do the same for him. They weren’t, however, the number one contact for each other and she was fine with their occasional conversations rather than being on the phone with him every single night. They’d just never been that type of siblings.
Some weren’t.
“Oh, well ...” Camilla tossed up a piece of popcorn, and easily caught it into her mouth before chewing, swallowing, then saying, “Cross is mine, anyway. He’s the best big brother.”
Catherine had no doubt.
Then, Camilla looked over at her with an arched brow, saying simply, “So you know, if you make him sad, I know you did it.”
Oh, did she?
“Yeah, I know it,” Camilla repeated, “and I don’t like it.”
“Is that ... a warning for me?” Catherine asked.
“Kind of sounds like it, right?”
“A little. Here I was thinking we might actually make friends.”
Camilla smiled. “We’re friends.”
“Are we?”
“Well, we will be, maybe.”
“Does the warning still apply even then?”
Camilla didn’t even hesitate. “I guess so, Catherine.”
Noted.
Very much noted.
And the funny thing?
Catherine respected the hell out of that.
Before the Wedding
“God, this dress was worth every single penny,” Catherine’s mother said, making one quicker sweep around her daughter to check for anything else that might need fixed last minute. For Catrina, that could be as simple as a tiny thread sticking out, or a single hair out of place. “Do you love it as much as I do?”
“What do you think?”
Catrina winked. “That you’re glad your father paid for it?”
“Cute.”
“Well ...”
Catherine laughed, and turned a bit to watch how the blush-colored ballgown shimmered as she moved. She had wavered on which style of dress to choose—she was lucky enough to have the body type that would look good in just about any style. And her mother made her try on every single style just to make sure she knew what each one looked like on her body.
In the end, she went back and forth between a form-fitting mermaid style dress that was draped in lace from the plunging neckline to the hem of the long train, and this blush-colored ballgown. During those fittings, her mother had pointed out the lace, mermaid style was very close to the dress Catrina had worn for her wedding. Catherine knew it was true—she saw the pictures of her parents’ wedding. That alone was enough to make her consider the mermaid dress a little more.