Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
I looked between the two of them, blinking in disbelief. “No way… You guys aren’t…”
They both held out their left hands. I had been so distracted with my own news that I hadn’t even noticed the sparkling princess cut diamonds on their fingers.
“Oh my gosh!” I knew we were all talking way too loudly, but I couldn’t help it. I was so excited; never in a thousand years had I imagined that I would be engaged to be married at the same time my very best friend was. “We both got engaged at the same time? This is like a movie!”
“Father of the Bride part II?” Holli gasped.
Deja shook her head with a smile. “No, baby. Bride Wars. Let’s not have this situation go down that way.”
“I don’t think we’ll have that problem,” I assured them as I took my seat. “The last time Neil got married, it was this big giant thing in Italy. And I have a feeling you’re not going to do the traditional Plaza ballroom wedding.”
“We want to get married at the castle in Central Park,” Holli effused.
“And dress like princesses. Flowers in the hair, whole nine yards. And we want to have our pictures taken on the Brooklyn Bridge,” Deja added, then she frowned. “You know, we got engaged on Christmas day, and we have the wedding basically planned. I guess it helps when it’s two girly-girls getting hitched.”
“Have you guys already set a date?” I had this weird little twinge in the pit of my stomach, the one I always got when I stupidly compared myself to someone else and found myself wanting. It didn’t make sense, but I had this little voice in my head suggesting that since Neil and I hadn’t talked endlessly about wedding plans, our engagement was somehow less valid.
I pushed that aside. That kind of shitty thinking led to envy, and I never wanted to envy my best friend. That wasn’t how we worked.
Deja was practically glowing. “Not a date-date, but we were considering an August wedding.”
“Wow, that soon?” Did that sound judgy? I didn’t want to sound judgy. “I mean, don’t you need time to plan?”
“With Miss Efficient here?” Holli nudged Deja with her elbow. “No way. We could get married on skates, center ice at Rockefeller Center next weekend, if she put her mind to it.”
“Please don’t,” I laughed. “I just got back from Iceland and northern Michigan. I don’t need any more cold.”
“And you’re going to be my maid of honor, right?” Holli asked, biting her lower lip. “I mean, I know in the past you’ve said you’d hate being in someone’s wedding—”
“Oh my god, shut up! I will totally be your maid of honor!” I mean, I had kind of expected she would ask me, since I was her best friend and all, but that didn’t make the invitation any less exciting.
Our chatter turned to the possibility of destination weddings in tropical climates. As independent, twenty-first century young women, maybe we should have spent our lunch talking about more important topics, but we’d all just gotten engaged. I gave us a pass for one stereotypical lunch.
When we were ready for the check, I picked it up. “Seriously, it’s on me. You guys have no idea how much I needed this today.”
“Still waiting to hear on the job, huh?” Deja asked, her perfect eyebrows knotting together in sympathy.
“Unfortunately. But that’s not the problem.” I slipped my card into the black leather case and left it on the side of the table. “I’ve just really missed New York. London is an amazing city, and Emma was a lot of fun, when she was there…but the past year sucked. It’s good to be back to normal.”
“The version of normal where you live in a palace on Fifth Avenue and I’m engaged to a human being instead of an architectural structure?” Holli laughed. “I’m so glad you’re home. Never, ever move away again.”
“I’ll try not to.” There was no point in telling her that in fifteen years, Neil planned to entomb us both at some crusty old estate. She didn’t need fifteen years to worry about it.
In the cab home from the restaurant, I thought about Holli and how different our lives had become in just a year and some odd months. Before Neil had strolled into Porteras—and hired Deja—neither Holli nor I had ever expected there might be an end to our single days. I mean, we’d hypothesized about it in a dreamy, far-off sort of way. “We might think about doing that when we’re in our thirties.” “We’d better decide on the children issue before we hit our forties and it becomes difficult to conceive.” It was always in the abstract, far off future.
Maybe it was because we’d viewed married or engaged versions of ourselves as being boring and restricted—I know that’s how I’d envisioned myself. And I’d always had this idealistic view about not getting married. The wedding, the dress, the honeymoon, all of that had been beneath me in the picture of independent, successful Sophie that I had begun painstakingly constructing in college.