Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 113617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“Okay, so, you guys were like, in love. Like, the way you described it, really in love. And you can’t think you told me about him, and I didn’t Google the shit out of his ass. He’s way hot, for a dude that could be my dad. He’s rich, maybe not as loaded as you, but with all those stores, he can’t be hurting. He’s also divorced. And so are you. So what now?”
“Chlo—”
She didn’t even let me finish her name. “What did he say about all this?”
“Well, I mean, it’s not like he’s unaware that there’s a great deal of water under the bridge,” I hedged.
“That isn’t an answer to my question. What did he say when he found out Uncle Corey did something that whacked?”
“He was understandably upset.”
“And?”
“And…we both were. Upset that is. We shared some words. But there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
“Why did Uncle Corey do that?”
“He, well, he had a crush on me.”
“Yeah. Duh. He was totally in love with you.”
This stunned me.
Was I the only one who didn’t see?
“But I’m in love with Ryan Reynolds,” she ranted on. “And I’m not going to do something psycho to break him up with Blake.”
“You don’t know Ryan Reynolds, darling.”
“The point stands, Mom.”
It did.
“Okay, honey, the truth is, I’m having a real tough time wrapping my head around why Uncle Corey would do this to me. To me and to Duncan, but real honesty, especially to me. He was like a brother to me. He knew how I felt about Duncan. And he knew I did not feel that for him. So I have a bottle of champagne, courtesy of the owner of this lovely hotel, and a plate of chocolate chip cookies that look divine. Not to mention, Mary is texting with a goodly number of exclamation points, so I need to find out what’s happening with her. To end, I can understand you’re upset, because he was like an uncle to you. But I really cannot process this with you now.”
Her tone was much calmer, and definitely tender, when she said, “Right, Mom. I was just freaked.”
“I understand that feeling.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. I’m so sorry, Momma.”
I was too.
It was like he’d died all over again.
But worse, because I didn’t even have the memory of him to sustain me anymore.
“Me too, darling. Now, you’ll come over for dinner when I get back. I’ll make something you love.”
“No way. Beckett’s Table. My treat. I’m jonesing for their short ribs.”
My girl, dramatic.
And driven.
She’d come back from France, took her trust fund, and to her father’s despair, and my concern, opened a boutique in the Melrose district of Phoenix.
But she had style. She had flair. And she was, as her brother described her, baller.
That boutique was a year old, it was turning a tidy profit, and she’d already made the cover of Phoenix magazine, their cover model for an article on up-and-coming female entrepreneurs.
And during their interview, they’d only asked her one question about her father and me.
In other words, she could buy me dinner.
Though, that was not happening.
“It’s a date,” I agreed.
“Great,” she replied. “Now, are you going to be okay? Do you want some company?”
“I’m two hours away, it’s getting late, and I’m fine. I mean, not fine-fine. But I’ll be okay. I have a great day planned tomorrow. And then I’ll be home.”
“I’ll come over tomorrow night.”
“I won’t be home until the earliest ten.”
“So? I’ll mix up some gimlets and we’ll binge Glow or something.”
“We’ve already binged Glow.”
“Yeah, that’s why I added or something.”
“Smart aleck,” I teased mock-severely.
“Momma, you love me just as I am, so don’t even try to pretend you don’t.”
And again, I felt better.
My daughter knowing that with that kind of certainty?
Yes, all was well in the world.
“Love you, darling.”
“Love you more, Mom.”
“Thanks for chatting.”
“Anytime, and Mom?”
“Right here.”
“Don’t think you got around the talk about this Duncan hottie.”
I said nothing, because she disconnected.
I took a fortifying sip of champagne to get me past her parting comment, and another one before I opened my texts.
I didn’t get to read them.
The screen came up with Tom’s picture telling me he was calling.
Damn.
I answered because I knew he’d be worried too.
“Hey there.”
“Hey, Genny, honey, you okay?”
“I’ve been better, but I’ll survive.”
A moment of silence, and then, “Gen.”
On his knowingly saying my name, I had the rare thought that perhaps our decision to be adult and get beyond his betrayal and my inattention to salvage the friendship part of our relationship in order to keep our family strong was the wrong one.
And then I said, “It was Corey. The box had a letter sharing that Corey told Duncan that I’d slept with him. Corey, that is. He told Duncan that I’d slept with his best friend. And he also shared he’d been lying in order to break us up, because he was in love with me.”