Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Hal nodded. “I second everything Vee just said, including the part about giving you money if you need it.”
That made me want to cry. Both of them were struggling to make ends meet, so I’d never take their money, and the last thing I wanted was to be a burden to them. But it was so touching that they’d offer. “You’re such good friends, and I love you so much. I definitely want you to meet him and give me your opinion.”
A moment later, I yelped in surprise when my phone vibrated in my hoodie’s kangaroo pocket. I’d forgotten it was in there. It turned out to be a text from Bryson, which said: I’ve given this a lot of thought. I’m not totally convinced it’s the best idea, but since I don’t have any other options, let’s proceed. I grinned and murmured, “Every boy’s dream proposal.” Another message popped up: If you want to, that is.
I showed my friends the screen and asked, “Are you two available this afternoon? If so, I’ll see if he can come over.”
“I’ll clear my schedule,” Hal told me.
“Me, too,” Vee said, “but tell him we’re coming to his house. We can do one of those site inspections, like when someone wants to adopt a baby.” Should I mention the baby in question was actually twenty-eight? “We’re calling the rest of the fam, too. They’ll want to get in on this.”
As I started to type a message, I muttered, “This guy has no idea what he’s in for.”
That afternoon, all six of my housemates and my dog accompanied me to the home of my future fake husband. “This neighborhood is nice,” Hal said, as we piled out of Dylan’s SUV.
“I like all the Christmas decorations.” Lark pointed at a pair of modern, stylized reindeer in one of the tiny front yards.
“Yeah, it looks like a fun block, except for that house.” Vee pointed at a dark blue Edwardian.
I shifted Dusty in my arms and checked the address on my phone. “That’s Bryson’s house.”
“Minus one point for Scrooge-like tendencies.” Apparently Vee was keeping score.
I tried to give Bryson the benefit of the doubt. “Maybe he just hasn’t gotten around to decorating.”
“Or maybe the ghost of Christmas past has him on the schedule for later tonight,” Vee muttered.
“It’s a pretty house, though.” It was elegant and dignified, and maybe a bit too perfect. I really couldn’t imagine myself living there, but I reminded myself it was only temporary.
All of us had paused on the sidewalk. After a moment, Yolanda asked, “Are we doing this, or what?” Then she led the march up the stairs to the front door.
I took a deep breath and followed my friends. This was going to be awkward, no doubt about it.
4
Bryson
When Embry told me he was coming over and bringing his friends, who needed to sign off on me, I was a little nervous. What was I expected to do here, convince them I was pure of heart and noble in intention?
Actually, I probably just needed to convince them I wasn’t some sort of perv, although Embry had actually been the one to approach me. They had to realize I wasn’t trying to lure him into a trap, or hatching some other nefarious plot.
In fact, if anyone had a reason to worry, it was me. I’d tried looking him up online, and even after figuring out the correct spelling of his name, there was very little information to be had. All I found was a Pinterest board full of very elaborate decorated cakes, a barely used Instagram account with only four pictures, all of his dog, and a handful of tagged photos, including two from an LGBTQ community center event.
On the other hand, if he’d done his due diligence and looked me up, he would have found pages of articles, detailing my slow but steady rise in the culinary world, the anticipation for my new restaurant, a handful of lukewarm reviews, and finally, a few cautionary tales written about the failure of my restaurant. That told him pretty much all there was to know about me.
While I waited for his arrival, I put the finishing touches on some snacks in the kitchen. I’d decided to go with a charcuterie board, and I’d decanted a bottle of red wine. Did it look like I was trying too hard, or not hard enough? And how many people was he bringing? I assumed it was two, three tops. What if it was more than that? This little board would look stingy.
Before I could add to it, there was a knock at the door. Shit, he was early. I’d wanted to make a good impression on him and his friends, but I felt like I was already blowing it.
I hurried to the door, and when I opened it I discovered he’d brought not two friends, not three, but six and a small, wiggly dog. I blurted, “Oh, there’s a lot of you,” before remembering my manners and inviting them in.