Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
She shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.”
After Allie got back, she walked out to my car with me. “Good luck in D.C. Call me if you need a pep talk, okay?”
“Okay.”
“What time is your flight?”
“Early. Six.”
She stuck her hands in the back pockets of her shorts. “What will you do about Felicity?”
“I don’t know.” I exhaled. “First I have to get through that fucking hearing. And maybe after a few days apart, I’ll be able to think more clearly.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes distance does add perspective.”
“I wish I could see the future,” I blurted. “To know how it would play out.”
“Me too.” Allie spoke quietly. “But unfortunately, no matter what Mom thinks, there’s no way to know what the future holds. No dream, no crystal ball, no palm reading, or tea leaves or tarot card is going to give you the answer.”
“Yeah.”
She gave me a hug, patting me on the back. “Even though we want the path to be clear and easy, the truth is, sometimes there’s a lot of shit in the way. And the only way out is through.”
NINETEEN
FELICITY
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “Excuse me?”
“Your engagement. It’s all a lie.” She snapped her fingers twice. “Keep up.”
I forced myself to laugh. “What are you talking about?”
“I will admit you two put on a pretty good show at the reunion, but it never sat right with me—maybe you’d have made a cute couple back in high school, but a guy like Hutton is out of your league now.”
“Well, I’m wearing a ring that says otherwise.” I held my hand out, hoping she wouldn’t see how my fingers trembled.
“Yes, I know all about the ring and the dress and the . . .” She brought her hand up like a blade and spoke on one side of her fingers, like a stage whisper. “Kink.”
I sucked in my breath. “What?”
“I was there, at the coffee shop last Saturday morning. I came in after you were already there and sat in the booth right behind you, but you were so preoccupied with your story that you didn’t even notice me. I do find it odd that you’d have sex with someone you’re not even really dating.”
“You were at Plum & Honey? Sitting behind me?”
She nodded, her eyes dancing. “I heard you say all kinds of interesting things.”
I closed my eyes as the breath left my body, realizing too late it was a dead giveaway that everything she’d heard was true. “You’re crazy.”
“I have notes, in case your memory is faulty. I didn’t want to forget a single word, so I wrote down what I was hearing.” She picked up her phone from the bar and read, “‘Things aren’t like that with us. This isn’t a real relationship or a real engagement. It’s something I made up, remember?’” She looked up at me. “Does that ring a bell?”
I couldn’t find words to answer.
“Oh, there’s also this. ‘I know it might look real on the outside, but that’s just because we’re having a good time. It’s one hundred percent fake. We are not together.’” She set her phone down and picked up her wine glass. “I also heard the part about the safe word and the bloody nose—so good! I mean, really, this story has everything, humor, sex, deception . . .” She sipped her wine. “I was thoroughly entertained.”
My pulse was racing. “Mimi, I have to go to work. I don’t know what your problem is, but—”
She laughed. “I don’t have a problem, Felicity. You do.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m going to make sure this story gets out, and then what will your perfect family think? It’s obvious to me only one sister knows you’re scamming everyone.”
“We’re not scamming anyone,” I snapped. “This is none of your business.”
“Oh really? Because I was chatting with your mom at her coffee shop before I left on Saturday, and it was obvious she doesn’t know you’re a liar. She was just so happy.”
“Leave my family out of this,” I said through my teeth.
“And Hutton’s family too. I happened to run into his mother at her shop last week, and she was simply beside herself about your upcoming nuptials. She couldn’t say enough sweet things about you.” She picked up her wine for a sip.
I was seething. Nostrils flaring. I wanted to strangle her with her perfect blowout.
“I was also thinking,” she said, swirling what was left of her wine, “how terrible it would be for Hutton if this got out. I know he’s testifying this week down in D.C. The last thing he’d want people saying about him is that he’s crooked and shady.”
It was like a punch in the stomach. I could handle people talking shit about me, but I would not tolerate anyone implying Hutton was dishonest. If this story broke, it would cause his anxiety to skyrocket. He would imagine people calling him a con artist. Whispering behind their hands. Looking at him strangely. He’d probably suffer panic attacks, maybe even be unable to answer questions.