Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Goodbye, Gracen.”
“Okay, well, come back any time for more of my sticky buns!” she called out as he walked to the door.
Good Lord.
He didn’t react. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. A flood of mortification filled her. Had she seriously just said that? Looking around, she discovered that everyone in the bakery was gaping at her. Most of them were people she’d known for years.
Heat filled her cheeks. “Yes, I know how that sounded.”
“Aunty G, that was . . . that was . . . terrible,” Anita told her as she followed her out back. “Like truly awful. How are you not dying of embarrassment? I would be. I don’t think I could ever leave my apartment again.”
She rolled her eyes at her niece’s dramatics. Although, to be honest, she kind of agreed. It was terrible.
“I don’t have the luxury of dying every time I do something embarrassing.”
“I always wondered why you were single. I mean, you do work all the time and you could lose a few pounds. But also, you’re truly awful at speaking to men.”
She snapped her hands on her hips and glared at her niece. “Got anything else you want to say?”
“I mean, no offense or anything.”
Gracen just shook her head and turned away. She knew she shouldn’t have gotten up this morning.
3
“Gracen? You okay?”
“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry. My mind was a million miles away.” She smiled over at her best friend, Sammy.
“Yeah? Was it on anything interesting . . . or anyone?” Sammy asked slyly as they warmed up for their ballet class.
At thirty-four years old, they’d both decided to learn ballet.
The first lesson had been an absolute disaster. Actually, every lesson was a disaster. Gracen was so short that getting her leg up on the barre required a stepstool, a prayer, and some sort of sacrifice.
And while Sammy was a whole foot taller than her and looked every inch the ballerina, she had zero flexibility.
Plus, she was really clumsy.
But even though they were absolutely horrid at ballet, they kept coming back because it was fun watching the teacher’s face every time they did something awful.
And across the street was this great bar which had half-price frozen daiquiris on Friday nights.
“Oh my God, who told you?” she asked as she bent over.
They’d been told to dress appropriately for the class. But there had been no way that Gracen was fitting her size twelve body into a tiny leotard. Instead, she wore some yoga pants, one of those boob tube things that attempted to tame her breasts, and a loose black T-shirt over the top. It was actually a guy’s top, but it was comfy and soft and that was all she cared about.
“Um, only about five different people. There was a phone chain.”
“Oh, shut up. There was not.”
“Uh-huh. I got two phone calls and several text messages. I’m surprised there wasn’t a social media post. I guess we should give Anita some credit for not going that far.”
She groaned. “I can’t believe everyone contacted you to tell you. What did they say?”
“Uh, nothing too bad,” Sammy replied, trying to shove her leg up high onto the barre. Seriously, it wasn’t even that high up for her.
“You need to stretch more.”
“Tell me about it. I can barely even bend over to tie my shoes. And it’s all Barry’s fault.”
Gracen raised her eyebrows. “How is it Barry’s fault?”
Barry was Sammy’s husband. He was a sweet, quiet guy who adored Sammy.
“Because he’s not interested in sex anymore. And if he does want it, all he wants is missionary style. I mean, if he were slinging my legs around, I wouldn’t be this inflexible, would I?”
The whole room went silent just as Sammy spoke. Gracen glanced around at everyone. Twelve women stared back at them.
“What?” Sammy asked, looking around at them all. “When you’ve been married twelve years to your childhood sweetheart, you’ll find yourself in the same position as me. Literally. Over and over again.”
Gracen couldn’t stop herself from giggling.
“Right. Let usss get back to our ssstretching, ladiesss,” their teacher commanded in her fake French accent. She seemed to think that all she had to do for a French accent was elongate her s sounds at the end or start of words. It really just made her sound like a talking snake.
“Please get into position.”
Right, here she went. She could do it. She threw her leg up into the air and nearly toppled back onto her ass. Honestly, she had no idea how everyone else made it look so effortless.
Well, they were all far taller than her.
“Oh, they were all saying how you offered up your sticky buns to this big hunky beast of a guy.” Sammy swung her leg back and up and right into Gracen’s face.
The side of her face was engulfed in pain, and she cried out, falling back onto her ass.