Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
I nodded slowly, dropping my gaze to the paper. “Do you think she’d let her wear it now?”
“I don’t see why not. At the very least, it can’t hurt to ask. Cassandra loves Hazel, after all.”
“You’re right.” I picked up my phone. “Do you mind if I tell Sylvie everything you just said?”
Mum’s lips slipped upwards into a tiny smile. “Of course not, dear. You tell her. I don’t mind at all.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN – SYLVIE
THOMAS: I just spoke to my mum, and I think I’ve figured out your veil issue.
I frowned at my phone.
What on Earth could his mum have said that would fix my problem right now? I’d woken up at four-thirty regretting all my life choices and gotten immediately to work searching the web for a veil that might vaguely resemble Hazel’s original one, but had I gotten lucky?
Had I fuck.
Needless to say, I was desperate, and that was exactly why I was responding to the man I’d accidentally kissed last night when I’d sworn blind to myself that I was never speaking to him again.
Ever.
Ever.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, though, and this most certainly qualified as desperate times.
I hit the reply box.
ME: I don’t see how that’s possible, but I’m open to anything at this point.
And I really was.
I was running on empty. I was utterly exhausted from a shoddy sleep and my brain waking me up before even the birds were awake, and I was emotionally spent over the whole wedding situation.
Of course, I felt a little better after eating at least half my weight in crumpets since six a.m.
All right. I’d eaten my entire weight in crumpets. There was nothing like hot, melty-buttery crumpets in the morning, and I wasn’t going to apologise for eating them all.
I’d have to replace them, or Gramps would throw me out, but I wouldn’t apologise. Not right now, anyway.
I was also lamenting the fact that I’d accidentally kissed Thomas last night. I’d swear that I only got any sleep at all last night because of the wine I’d had, but I’d even dreamt about kissing the sorry bastard, so the sleep I had gotten hadn’t been all that good.
Now he was texting me.
Right when I was ready to take a nap.
Ugh.
THOMAS: Mum said Julian’s family has a veil.
I blinked at the screen.
ME: Like a wedding veil? Or a veil to the underworld where Hades is king?
I didn’t mean to type that.
ME: Sorry. I woke up at 4am. I’m kind of tired and my brain/mouth filter isn’t working.
THOMAS: Huh. I didn’t know you had one of those things.
ME: …I think that’s an insult.
THOMAS: Maybe.
ME: Didn’t you text me to help me out of this problem with the veil? Is insulting me necessary?
THOMAS: I have a meeting. Can we talk later?
ME: Why are you like this?
ME: Why would you text me and not tell me?
ME: Is this because I kissed you last night and you’re punishing me?
THOMAS: …That’s quite the leap.
THOMAS: I really don’t have the time. Can I call you when I’m done? I’m 99.9% sure I’ve fixed this but I’m logging on for my meeting now.
ME: YOU ARE AS IRRITATING AS THE DAY YOU THREW THAT FUCKING CRICKET BALL AT MY EYE YOU BASTARD
THOMAS: I’ll talk to you later.
ME: YOU COULD HAVE JUST TEXTED ME LATER
ME: What a cliffhanger.
I stared at the screen for a moment longer, but he really must have gone because no response came.
That git.
That sneaky, rotten git.
I was going to throw a turkey at him. A frozen one. Right at his bloody handsome face.
Probably only a small one, though. I wasn’t that strong, and those suckers were heavy, especially when they were frozen.
I put my phone down and shoved my laptop to the side so I could lie down. I pulled the covers right up over myself and closed my eyes, lying flat on my back with my hands linked across my stomach.
One more bad thing, and I was going to channel my inner Wednesday Addams and cross my arms over my chest.
A coffin didn’t sound like a bad idea, either.
I doubted I’d be able to drift off for a nap, but I really needed a moment to breathe. It was officially exactly two weeks until the wedding and I was feeling the pressure. I really did want it all to go perfectly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the veil was going to be the least of my problems when it came down to it.
I wanted to shake it. Badly. But it was the same niggling gut feeling that said your boyfriend was cheating on you or that you actually didn’t have any chicken at home in the fridge, no matter how much you thought otherwise.
I couldn’t fathom anything else going wrong.
I really needed everything else to go off without a hitch. In fact, the only hitching I wanted was the one between my sister and Julian.