Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Are you dating someone?” Troy asks. “What about that guy from last week?”
I want to sigh, but I just smile innocently. “Hm? What guy?”
Troy knowingly points his fork at me. “It’s serious. I can see it on her face.”
My dad nods. “Don’t keep us in suspense, Charli Bug. Tell us about this new guy.”
“Well?” My dad prods. “Don’t keep us in suspense, Charli Bug.”
I could deny everything, but what would be the point? “It’s really nothing serious,” I say finally. “He’s just a guy I met at that publisher’s conference in Arizona a couple weeks ago.”
“When are we going to meet him?” Troy asks. I can already see his protective streak has fully engaged. He wants to vet Jameson, which basically equates to confirming he’s not good enough for one of Troy McBride’s little sisters. No man is good enough in my brother’s eyes. As sweet as the sentiment is, dealing with my brother trying to chase off every man who has ever shown interest in me is exhausting in practice.
“I don’t know,” I say. “But I’ll put a family meet and greet on the to-do list. Okay?”
My mom claps her hands quickly. “I’m so happy. I can’t wait to meet this boy.”
“He’s not a boy,” I say. “He’s a man.”
Maddie “oohs” dramatically. Dani smiles.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just–nevermind.” And now I’m blushing.
“How old is he?” Troy asks.
“That’s none of your business,” I say.
“Like hell it isn’t. He’s older, isn’t he?”
I make a point of focusing on my food and ignoring my brother. I hear my dad quietly trying to calm Troy down. I don’t pay attention to it. I push my mind to what I’ll be doing in a few hours.
Meemaw raises a crooked finger, eyebrows up. “What’s wrong with older lovers, Troy Boy?”
He opens his mouth, but then snaps it shut and stares at his plate. Troy may be obnoxiously confrontational, but he has always respected Mom and our grandparents. Meemaw knows and abuses this fact.
She smiles a little, sensing weakness. “Some of the best sex of my life was with older men. Much older.”
“Much older?” Maddie says, a devious grin beginning to form on her face. “Wouldn’t that be like… necrophilia?”
Meemaw throws her head back and cackles.
I smile, but my thoughts are elsewhere. They’re on the mixer tonight. In just a little while, I’ll be meeting Jameson at his place to see whatever “sensibly slutty” costume his friend of a friend whipped up. I’l be heading to the party between Landmark and Gray Wolfe.
And I’ll be parading myself around it with Jameson Wolfe on my arm in front of Vaughn and Aubrey.
The thought makes my nerves light up. I’m not confrontational. The idea of Vaughn coming up and challenging us or making a scene terrifies me. How did I ever think this was a good idea?
I take a few calming breaths while Meemaw, Maddie, and Dani go back and forth about some convoluted plumbing metaphor that definitely means sex. I think Meemaw is trying to argue that two plumbers are better than one.
Mom is staring at her food with a glazed look on her face I’ve seen a million times. Meemaw traumatizes her on a regular basis, so she simply chooses to detach her brain and pretend nothing is happening. Dad is excitedly telling Troy the entire plot of a TV show he wants him to watch, as if having the whole thing spoiled scene by scene is going to make Troy want to go home and watch it all.
And me? I’m just silently losing my shit while it feels like a time bomb ticks away beneath my chair.
“I don’t know about this,” I say for the hundredth time. We’re walking into the hotel where the mixer is being hosted. Jameson’s arm is hooked in mine, and I’m dressed in a glorified lingerie costume.
I specifically remember talking about the tried and true slutty Halloween tropes: angels, bunnies, kittens, and so on. This costume is not that.
“Well,” Jameson says, stopping to look at me again. He has been doing that ever since I put this on, and it’s probably the only reason I haven’t revolted and demanded to go to my place where I left my backup costume–a baggy set of pirate clothing, complete with hat, fake mustache, and a pen to do the stubble. “The guy works in Hollywood. I guess he was creatively inspired. You look great, though.”
Jameson is dressed to match me. I’m some sort of ringleader’s assistant straight out of a porno. I’ve got a short cropped coat with curled up coattails in the back. It’s open at the front to reveal a one-piece, skintight black thing that’s basically a lacy swimsuit. My legs are clad in fishnets and I’ve got a huge top-hat on. Of course, I’ve also got heels that are way too tall.