Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve shown him a few options.”
Donna snagged another chip. “What do you like, Tess?”
Tessa chewed thoughtfully on a piece of chicken. “I guess I like white tulips and calla lilies.”
“Oh, that sounds gorgeous.” I pictured the bouquet in my mind. “You should go with that.”
She angled her head. “You think?”
“Of course. Nick doesn’t care. Do whatever you want,” I said.
She grinned. “That’s kind of what I was thinking. We’ll have Cousin Brano bake the cake.”
“Of course.” I smiled. “Nobody beats Brano’s cakes.”
Donna added another wing to her plate. “We should go dress shopping soon. It’s March, Tess.”
“I know. I’ve just been busy,” she said. “We can’t go this weekend because of the St. Paddy’s parade, but maybe the following weekend? I can take a few hours off.”
Donna nodded. “There’s a new bridal shop near the resort I’m listing. We could make a day of it.”
“Perfect.” I looked at the stack of folded papers on the table. “You have any wedding dresses in there?”
“I do.” Tessa started unfolding several pictures, spreading them across the table. Donna and I leaned in.
Tessa would look beautiful in anything, but one caught my eye. “I like the one with the Irish lace,” I said. “That’d fit you no matter the cut.”
“Me too,” Donna agreed. “You should go all in on the Irish theme, especially since Nick’s Italian. Keep both sides of the family happy.”
Tessa laughed. “Well, that’s important.”
The door opened behind us, and I looked up, immediately wishing I hadn’t. Clark walked in, shaking rain off his jacket, and right behind him was Brooke Walton.
My stomach dropped. I hadn’t had a chance to tell him she was also seeing Brad Backleboff. He’d been in court all afternoon.
Clark looked good in his dark brown suit and silver-striped tie with his head damp from the weather. Brooke, of course, looked flawless in a fitted blue sweater and jeans that probably cost half my rent.
She glanced at me, then quickly looked away, pointing toward a table near the windows. Clark gave me a short wave, polite but distant, and followed her over.
I swallowed hard and reached for my wine. This was going to get messy.
“Hey, isn’t that Brooke Walton?” Donna asked, tipping her wine glass toward the far side of the bar.
“Yeah.” I didn’t look right away, but curiosity got the better of me. “How do you know her?”
Donna shrugged, ever casual. “I’ve seen her with Brad Backleboff over in the valley a couple of times. I go over there to play bridge as part of my networking, you know. I sold a cute little house up on Timber Street last week.”
Tessa motioned to the waitress for a refill. “What’s she doing with Clark, then?”
I sighed. “They’ve been dating but not exclusively. She won’t go exclusive, and he wants to, from what I could tell.”
“Clark’s a catch,” Tessa said, glancing toward them. “Though she’s gorgeous.”
“Do you know her?” I asked.
“Yeah. She comes into the restaurant sometimes,” Tessa said, twisting her napkin between her fingers. “She’s… okay. Hard to like, though, considering she’s Gloria’s niece, and Gloria’s made it her life mission to take down Nana.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said, lowering my voice. “I haven’t had a chance to tell Clark she’s also dating Backleboff.”
“Didn’t he see the paper?” Donna asked.
I frowned. “I totally forgot about that. The conflict of interest piece was in there. We haven’t had time to talk about it, so maybe he already knows.”
“If they’re not exclusive,” Donna said smoothly, reaching for another chip and dipping it into guacamole, “he probably doesn’t care.”
“That’s a good point,” I said, sitting back. “I always thought he kind of played the field anyway.”
Before I could say more, the door swung open again. Brad Backleboff strolled in, right beside Jolene O’Sullivan. They snagged a small table near the entrance, heads bent together in what looked far too cozy to be professional.
“Well,” I muttered, “this is interesting. Now we know how the Timber Gazette got the story so fast today.”
Donna followed my gaze. “Ugh, that’s a terrible duo. Jolene goes after people like a bloodhound when she wants a story.”
“Yeah,” I said, watching Brad lean closer to the reporter, “but the way he’s looking at her, I don’t think this one’s about journalism. That’s full-on puppy love.”
“Wait a minute,” Donna said, turning toward the other side of the room where Clark sat with Brooke Walton. Her eyes widened. “Didn’t you say Brooke was also seeing Backleboff?”
“Yep.” I winced. “Things are about to get interesting.”
As if on cue, Brooke looked up, spotted Brad across the bar, and froze. Her chair screeched back as she stood—too fast, too sharp.
“Oh, no,” I breathed.
Brooke stomped toward Brad, her heels clicking like gunfire against the wood floor.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Nope,” Donna said immediately, waving at Luanne behind the bar. “We’re out.”