Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Even if I’m unraveling on the inside.
I plop down in the chair after hanging my jacket and purse on the back. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
“No worries,” Tempe chirps and points to a fluted glass in front of me. “We’ve been sipping on mimosas and took the liberty of ordering you one.”
I take a grateful sip as Willa asks, “You do drink mimosas, right? Because if you don’t, you are not allowed to hang out with us.”
I take another longer sip and nod. “Love me a mimosa.” I look around and ask, “Where’s Mazzy?”
“I’m guessing it was a very late night after the proposal,” Farren says, waggling her eyebrows. “She sent her regrets only an hour ago, having apparently just woken up.”
“Can’t say I blame her,” Tempe says. “That proposal was something else.”
“I was so emotional!” Mila admits, fanning her face. “I think it scared Penn.”
“You were ugly crying,” Tempe teases, flipping her dark braid over her shoulder. “But like… glam crying. Your lashes didn’t even budge.”
“I will say,” Willa chimes in, raising her coffee mug, “while that was an incredibly romantic proposal, Bowie Jane and her T-shirt stole the show.”
Farren lifts her drink in salute. “She nailed it.”
We chat for a few minutes and order food when our waitress checks in. Quiche all the way around and I indulge in a cinnamon latte. The conversation is never ending, and I mostly listen in. These ladies have known each other awhile and I’m new to the dynamic.
“Are you okay, Winnie?” Tempe asks and the table goes quiet.
All eyes shift to me and I feel the proverbial spotlight. I glance around wildly, and then proclaim, “What? Yes, of course, I’m okay. Why would you say that?”
Farren rests her chin in the palm of her hand and eyes me skeptically across the table. “I don’t buy it.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, wanting to be offended but a little impressed she’s picking up on the mass of internal feelings I have going on.
“You heard me,” she says, eyes narrowing. “I call bullshit. Something’s bothering you and if you can’t spill it to your friends while drinking at brunch, how will you ever get past it? You’ll never get better therapy than what’s around this table right now.”
“That’s true,” Willa says with a grave nod.
I glance around. All the women staring at me with open expressions of acceptance and concern and I think… what the hell? My insurance plan doesn’t cover therapy anyway.
My gaze lands and stays on Farren. “North told Lucky this morning about the incident in the bathroom.”
Farren winces. “I’m sorry I told him. I mentioned it offhand.”
“I’m not mad about it. It’s not like I told you to keep it secret.”
“Keep what secret?” Tempe and Mila ask at the same time.
Farren answers for me. “Two bitches accosted her in the bathroom last night.”
Tempe’s eyes widen. “Why?”
“Because of TikTok,” I explain.
Tempe shakes her head. “Still don’t understand.”
I stare at her, disbelieving she’s not aware of the splash that Lucky and I are making on social media. But then I realize… not everyone cares about that stuff.
“You know Lucky and I met through TikTok?” I start by asking her.
She nods. “Yeah… Rafferty showed it to me. Very cute.”
“Well, we’ve posted additional content about our dates, and… the feedback has been… mixed.”
“Mixed?” Tempe asks, a line creasing her forehead.
“Some people love it, and others… not so much.”
Farren interjects. “There are a ton of mean comments out there fueled by jealousy and just downright bitchiness. I mean… there are some real assholes in the world, and two of them went after Winnie in the bathroom.”
“It was nothing,” I say, trying to blow it off but the quavering in my voice betrays me.
All four women go quiet in a soft, subtle shift of attention.
I swallow my weakness, take a sip of my latte and lift my chin. “Anyway, Lucky called this morning because he was worried about it after North mentioned it. I told him I was fine—”
“Bullshit,” Farren coughs into her hand.
I pause, then admit, “Fine… it gets to me, but that’s the price you pay for being in the public eye.”
“How many times have you actually said that… It’s the price you pay for being in the public eye?” Farren tosses back at me.
More than I care to admit.
“Maybe it’s the price to pay,” Mila says gently, her hand squeezing my shoulder. “But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. I’m sorry people are so rotten.”
“I hate fucking bullies,” Farren mutters. “I really wanted to kick those women’s asses last night. My brother and boyfriend are professional hockey players. I know a little something about brawling.”
That makes me laugh and a tiny part of me wishes Farren had kicked their asses.
“You’re handling it with more grace than I would’ve,” Willa says.
I smile, but it’s tight. I feel it. That coil of discomfort sitting low in my belly.