Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“I can’t see myself indulging any salacious whims when I’ve got you waiting for me at home.” His fingers dug into my ass to pull me up tight against his groin. “And I don’t plan to drink, so there will be no impaired judgment.”
“Just as long as you get to the altar on time.” A lump seized my throat. “You know. Don’t…leave me there.”
His brow crinkled, and he squinted as he looked up at me. “Why on Earth would I ever do something like that?”
Big left Carrie at the altar once, my pop-culture addled brain reminded me. “No reason.”
“Sophie, I cannot imagine any place I would more like to be than waiting for you to come down that aisle.” He drew me down for a kiss, and I let myself linger in it, despite my strong urge to run around the house checking for dust. My grandma was in her seventies, but her eyes were like a cleaning-obsessed bald eagle’s.
The house phone rang, I got up so Neil could reach his nightstand to answer. He hit in the intercom button and said “Yes, Benjamin?”
Benjamin, the doorman, cleared his throat audibly over the speaker. “Good afternoon, Mr. Elwood. Were you expecting some…guests?”
I gave Neil my best warning face.
“Yes, they’re Ms. Scaife’s family. Please send them up.”
When he disconnected the call, I snorted. “You’d tell just anybody your whole life story just to avoid being associated with my family, wouldn’t you?”
“Come on. Let’s not fight. We can get through this together.”
We weren’t waiting in the foyer for very long before the elevator doors dinged and my aunt Marie spilled out, covered in luggage. “Holy shit! This is not where you live. Is it? Is this where you live?”
“Some of the time,” Neil said, moving to take the suitcase from her hand.
“If I don’t get off this damned elevator, I’m going to lose my mind!” Grandma pushed her way past Marie. She dropped a pink nylon duffle bag on the floor and put out her arms. “I get to hug the bride first.”
“Grandma!” I hugged her hard. “I’m so glad you came.”
“My granddaughter is getting married, of course I’m coming!” She turned to Neil. “Hug your grandmother.”
He gave me a panicked glance, but it was too late. My tiny little grandma threw her arms around him and squeezed him hard.
“You know, I think my mother was older than you,” he said as he managed to disentangle himself.
My mom stepped into the foyer and looked around, wide-eyed. She’d been staying with us in Sagaponack for so long that I’d forgotten she’d never actually been to the apartment. “So, this is where you go to hide from me.”
“Well, here and various other places,” Neil said, and Mom pursed her lips angrily.
My cousin, Leanne—tall, willowy, with long black hair and Robert Smith’s eyeliner—came off the elevator just as the doors closed behind her. She didn’t look up from her phone as she said, “Hey Sophie, where can I charge this?”
Marie rolled her eyes. “Can you believe this one? All the way here. ‘I need a charger, I need some place I can charge this.’ It’s like an artificial heart. If it stops working, she dies.”
“Yeah, let me show you where you’re going to be staying.” I motioned to everyone to follow me and called back to Neil, “You stay there. The rest will be coming up.”
He raised his hand and stuttered something. I pretended not to notice. “Okay, Leanne and Marie, you’re going to stay in Emma’s room—”
“Who’s Emma?” Leanne pushed her gum from one side of her open mouth to the other.
“Emma is Neil’s adult daughter,” Mom said with a forced smile. “Who is exactly the same age as Sophie.”
“Okay, we’ll put a pin in that and come back to it later.” My own smile was just as forced. I opened the door to Emma’s room. The queen-sized bed was big enough for sharing.
Leanna looked up for the first time and wrinkled her nose. “Wow. Frilly.”
Emma’s room was pretty frilly, but nothing like the bright pink nursery in the London house. She’d lived out the last of her at-home years in the New York apartment, so the pale pink walls and rose-colored carpet weren’t quite as little-girl obnoxious as they could have been.
“Come on, Mom, Grandma. You’ll be down here.” I waved them on to the guest room, which was a lot less pink and had a king-sized bed. Neil had argued that we couldn’t have so many people sharing rooms; he clearly didn’t know country families that well.
“Where’s the bathroom? My back teeth are floating,” Grandma said, dumping her duffel bag on the bed.
“It’s over there.” I gestured to the en suite restroom and put my hands on my hips as I faced my mother. “What was that about?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her forehead crinkling in mock confusion.