Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“Hunter?” He stares at me, brow furrowed. “You’re not dressed yet.”
“Huh?” I look back at him, shutting the fridge. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t tell me you forgot.” He runs a hand through his silver hair, groaning. “The dinner? With my fiancée? Did I not tell you?”
Shit. That dinner.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You told me. I just forgot.” Forgot? When do I ever forget things? My head feels like it’s all over the place today. “Let me put something on. I’ll be a flash.”
George nods.
“Thanks. I’m sorry I didn’t remind you. Try to look your best, okay? Gertrude means a lot to me, and her daughter’s going to be there too. We Martin men want to make a good impression.”
“Right,” I say, barely even paying attention. I’m kicking myself for having let it slip my mind like this. My dad told me when I first got into town that he’d met someone while I was away. At first, I dismissed it as another fling, one of many he’s had since he and Mom divorced a long time ago. But then he told me that he’d gotten engaged to Gertrude. Maybe I’m still a little pissed off that he decided to go find himself a fiancée so fast. But is my annoyance really over that? Or am I just reeling over what happened last night?
Food forgotten, I hurry upstairs and pull on a dress shirt and slacks. It’s the best that I can manage in a rush. Taking a minute to run my hands through my hair before I go, I tromp back down the stairs to meet Dad, who’s waiting in the entryway. He sweeps me with his eyes and gives me a brisk nod.
“You look nice. Thank you. This is important to me.”
I smile and nod, wondering if he might actually be serious. The truth is, I think I got so used to George being divorced from Mom that the idea of him marrying someone else seems foreign now. I climb into the passenger seat of his Range Rover and we start heading across town to the restaurant. The whole time, I keep reminding myself to put last night’s party - and Frankie - out of my mind. There will be another party sooner or later, another hookup, and I’ll forget all about the curvy girl. Right?
“You seem quiet,” Dad observes as we pull into the parking lot of the restaurant, a little Italian bistro that probably takes reservations several months in advance.
I shake my head, smiling at him.
“Sorry. I’m just a little tired.”
“Another one of your get-togethers?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. At this point I’m past keeping secrets from him, especially when I’m living at home again, but I’ve never gotten around to telling him just what kind of “partying” I’m into.
I chuckle, looking away and changing the subject.
“So tell me about this fiancée of yours.”
He nods towards the restaurant.
“She’s real nice. You’ll like her. Her name’s Gertrude, as I’ve mentioned before, and I met her after my newest development opened.” There’s a pause, and then he adds, “Her daughter’s a little younger than you, I think. Hopefully you two will get along.”
“Yeah, me too,” I agree, brushing it off. It’s becoming clear that I’m not going to be able to concentrate, so I open my door. “Well, I guess we’d better not keep them waiting, right?”
“No,” Dad says, smiling. “I guess not.”
I follow him across the parking lot, hands tucked into my pockets, feeling a little like a kid again. We reach the restaurant, and a smiling hostess escorts us to a table in the back. We’re apparently the first to arrive, so we order drinks and chat for a few minutes, my distracted mind already casting back to last night.
I’m just getting ready to order another wine when I see Dad glance up.
“Looks like that’s them.”
Following his gaze, I see a tall blonde woman following the hostess to our table with a younger girl in tow. Then I find myself freezing, as if a jolt of electricity has gone through me, as I meet a pair of familiar, chocolate-brown eyes.
Frankie. It’s the girl from the party. She’s my new step-sister?
5
Frankie
“Just relax, honey,” Mom says, noticing me smoothing out my skirt for what feels like the hundredth time. My mind is still in pieces over the party, and the last thing I want to be doing right now is meeting her latest boyfriend. Still, I try to force a smile and forget about it. There will be plenty of time to decompress later.
My calm all falls apart the minute we enter the restaurant, following the waitress to a table in the far corner. Sitting there, looking as cool as a cucumber, is Hunter, next to a man I can only assume is Mom’s fiancé. My mouth drops open as my heartrate accelerates. What?