Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
I drop my chin to my chest to hide my disappointment. Lame excuse, and she’s a terrible liar.
“Yes, it’s been a long week.” Ronnie’s statement is more of a question. “But that’s why we have Friday nights to kick back and catch up.”
All of them have been curious about my time in Chicago, wanting details. I glossed over the weekend, instead focusing on Rowan’s attack and situation. It was only a matter of time before they’d pounce. I came tonight prepared with a prepackaged story that didn’t include the run-in with Darla.
Then Harley and I could excuse ourselves at a reasonable time and delve into Darla’s life for the last twelve years.
Harley’s seconds away from busting that plan wide open.
“Need help opening that bottle?” Harley swallows apprehensively, and that’s all it takes. Ronnie’s gaze swings to me.
“What are you two hiding?”
“Nothing,” I squeak, slapping my hand over my mouth.
“Nothing, my ass. What’s going on?”
“We planned on marathon watching Hallmark. The guys banned it at the club.”
“That’s a malarky excuse.” Janice pins me with her sharp blue eyes. “You two ladies are not working with amateurs. We all have daughters.”
Harley looks to me for help, not able to hide her nervousness.
“We were planning to look up some old friends on social media tonight. Get some addresses for the wedding.”
“Julianna! Are you sitting at my table LYING to me?” Ronnie reprimands.
Dammit!
“Fine, we are looking for information on Major’s ex-girlfriend.”
“Why in the world? She’s an ex. He’s yours now. Why dig into his past?”
“She’s not exactly his past anymore,” I mumble, knowing Pandora’s box is blown wide open.
The cork pops, and Ronnie plops in her chair, filling all our glasses. “Don’t make us old ladies wait.”
I take a deep breath and replay the story of last weekend and Darla’s place in Major’s life before the Marines. I intentionally leave out the part of Darla’s pregnancy plan, instead simply stating she manipulated the situation to have a cushy lifestyle. Harley adds her idea of researching Darla to uncover why she’s resurfaced.
When we’re done, Ronnie gets another bottle and refills the glasses. “So, where do we start?”
“We?”
“Yes, we. If you think I’m not getting involved, you’re mistaken. We’ve been waiting years for you to find a good man. Now that you have, some two-bit hussy honeypot will not ruin it.”
I bite my lip and hear Harley squeak. “I didn’t say anything about pregnancy.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Ditto on that. I’ve never understood why we’ve spent lifetimes fighting for women’s rights and equality while women like that are waiting in the wings. They give us all a bad name. Getting pregnant to hold on to a man.”
Oh lord, if Janice gets on her soapbox, we’ll never get out of here.
Harley jumps to her feet. “Be right back.”
She disappears out the door and returns in less than a minute with my laptop and a legal pad. “Hopefully, we can build a timeline of her life after Major left. We began with basic social media searches, which came up empty. Here’s a list of what we know.” She motions to the pad.
“Get me into that computer,” Janice orders.
I log in, hand it over, and watch her fingers fly across the keyboard. Her forehead crinkles as she squints and clicks. Her eyes light up and she smiles wide, turning the screen to us. “Victory!”
I scan the webpage for Major’s high school and see what has her excited. She’s found a page labeled ‘Where Are They Now?’. A picture of Darla is beside a bio.
“My daughter told me about a new trend floating around. High schools are adding this option to their website as an additional avenue to reconnect. It also helps coordinate reunions and homecoming events.”
“Genius,” I breathe out, taking the computer and clicking on Darla’s picture to bring up the entire page.
“So, she’s a social ghost online, but uploads her information to her high school website?”
My stomach rolls when I see she’s uploaded at least a dozen pictures from years ago. Football games, senior date night, summer trips, homecoming dance—all of them with her in Major’s arms. The last is one of them kissing, both in University of Chicago sweatshirts. “Major said she was on an ego-trip about being the power couple.”
Harley scoots closer, her breath hitching at the images on the screen. She doesn’t have to say anything for me to know what she’s thinking. Major and Darla look perfect together. “It’s still weird.”
I swallow the raging jealousy and read through the information. When I get to the end, my stomach rolls for a different reason.
“Jesus, Jewls, you’re white as a ghost.” Ronnie feels my forehead. “And clammy. What’s wrong?”
I look through all of them and focus on Harley. “It’s not too weird. Darla went to law school.”
“Okay, good for her. Why are you about to pass out?”
“Because she recently joined a new practice. In Nashville.”