Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
The Taggart house was rocking this afternoon.
“You didn’t get invited or you didn’t go?” Charlotte asked.
Serena Dean-Miles slid onto the barstool beside Daphne. “Why didn’t you get invited to parties? That sucks. We have parties all the time.”
The pretty brunette had big green eyes and wore a maxi dress over her swimsuit. Despite the fact that it was fall, it was still warm enough in Texas to get into the pool.
Not that she owned a swimsuit. How long had it been since she’d taken Lou swimming? Oh, she’d learned how, but that had been part of her education. Lou would have to borrow a swimsuit if she wanted to get into the pool, though it seemed like the older kids were upstairs playing while the younger kids and most of the boys were out in the water.
“At least once a week someone’s having a barbecue or a potluck,” Charlotte agreed.
“I know there are a lot of game nights, but I haven’t seen you two at one,” Daphne pointed out.
“Oh, that’s for the younger people.” Serena was shaking her head. “And people who are way less competitive than those two. You do not want to see Ian and Charlotte play cards. Depending on whether they’re winning or losing it’s either World War III or they are talking in Russian and it’s obvious they’re planning their divorce and it’s going to be bloody.”
“Well, he should remember he’s playing cards and not getting revenge on his enemies,” Charlotte shot back before turning Daphne’s way. “So what’s the answer? Not invited or do you avoid them?”
“Nosy much?” Serena asked, her brows rising but in a familiar, teasing way.
Charlotte shrugged. “I used to be an information broker. I still like to find out everything I can. She’s interested in Boomer. He’s like the kid brother I never had, and I want to watch out for him.”
She’d heard a lot about Charlotte Taggart from Noelle and MaeBe. The tall woman with strawberry blonde hair was what Mae had called “goals.” Noelle had talked about Charlotte’s colorful past. She’d been the daughter of a Russian mobster. As a teenaged girl, she’d been an actual mob assassin. She’d managed a powerful information brokerage while on the run from the mob and the majority of the world’s intelligence agencies.
She also made a mean margarita, and her guacamole game was strong.
She was nosy, though, but Daphne had sat up the night before thinking about the fact that when she’d had trouble, Boomer and his crazy found family had swooped in. If she wanted to fit in, she needed to make some friends. She liked these women, wanted to be a part of them.
She’d closed herself off from the world for years, convincing herself that all she needed was Lou and that her life could begin once Lou was through school and safely on her way.
What she’d recently realized was that she’d taught her daughter to be the same way she was, closed off and lonely. Lou was coming alive in this world, and Daphne kind of wanted the same for herself.
“Not invited.” If she wanted friends, she had to open up, and Charlotte was giving her the opportunity. It was time to get past being embarrassed at what she’d put up with. That was what she’d realized the night before. She was embarrassed that she’d stayed with Dennis for as long as she had, that she’d allowed him to mold her into someone who erected walls and pretended not to care, into someone who simply wanted to get through a day without a fight. “After my husband died, I didn’t stay in touch with any of his friends. They were all in what I like to call the academic world, and I did not fit there. He was a mathematician who worked for a group that advises and sets economic policies. They had a lot of cheese and wine parties. I like cheese and wine, but if I tried to participate in the discussion, I was always asked what my degree was in. They were not impressed with my degree in English. I learned not to talk at all.”
The blender whirled. “Serena, are you triggered, babe? Because I can find a picture of that asshole for you to shoot. Eve is somewhere in the house if you need a session.”
Serena merely chuckled. “Oh, I’m so over that. It helps that Jake and Adam killed him.” Serena turned Daphne’s way. “She’s talking about my first husband. He was a college professor, and he was all about being pretentious. And it’s okay that Jake and Adam killed him. He was trying to murder me at the time. It was a whole thing. We were actually divorced, but he was pissed off that my porn book—his words, not mine—made more money than his unpublished piece of crap. Huh. Maybe I’m not over that. I’ll take an extra shot, Charlotte.”