Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I gasp a silent breath and step away from the door so my back is to him. Closing my eyes, I button my dress and wait for him to leave. When I hear the sliding door, I fall toward the sink, hands on either side, holding me up. The pink-cheeked reflection in the mirror is unrecognizable. She’s not me.
I wouldn’t let another woman’s fiancé do that to me.
Would I?
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Alice
If Hell exists, there’s a waiting list.
Karma is Vera. Tonight they are one and the same. She invites my mom and me to join everyone for dinner—the dinner I make, of course. And “everyone” includes Murphy’s mom.
I’m a dirty homemaking home-wrecking whore hidden behind a blue floral house dress and an apron that’s been in the Morrison family for years.
“This is weird. I knew it would happen, but it’s still weird,” I say, whisking the Dijon dressing. I’m not sure I made it with the right ingredients. I’m meeting Murphy’s mom tonight and my thoughts have gone to shit.
“What’s weird?” Mom asks with a laugh while cutting the sourdough bread.
“We’re having dinner with the people who hired me to serve them dinner. It’s weird.”
“It’s a meal. They seem to adore you. Just think of it as your house, and you’ve invited them to dinner. Then making and serving the meal won’t seem so weird.”
I nod. She’s right. That’s a better way to look at it. Of course, it won’t help my nerves when I see Blair, Murphy, and his mom seated at the table. It’s like Blair or his mom will see it on my face and instantly know that he had my nipples in his mouth earlier today.
“Jesus, it’s hot in here.” I wave a hand over my face.
“It’s not that hot. Are you getting sick?” Mom asks.
If only.
“No. It’s probably just standing over the stove too long. Here. Let’s serve our guests.” I hand her two small salad plates.
“We should have gone out to eat. I suddenly feel guilty for inviting you to dinner and asking you to cook it,” Vera says as we serve the salads.
“You have a lovely kitchen. It’s a real treat getting to cook in it,” Mom says, placing salads in front of Vera and Hunter.
Dang it! I was going to serve them, but she beat me to it, so I’m stuck serving Blair and the nipple biter. Murphy doesn’t even try to avert his gaze. Just the opposite. I feel it like it’s glued to me. The midday sun in a desert.
“Sit down, Mom. I’ve got the rest.” I nod toward the two free chairs opposite Blair and Murphy.
“You sure?”
I nod. “Uh-huh.”
“Krista, Alice, this is my mom, Janelle. Alice works for the Morrisons and her mom is visiting for a few days,” Murphy says.
“Lovely to meet you both.” Janelle smiles, playing with her hoop earring under her long, dark hair streaked with gray.
“You too,” Mom says, sitting across from Janelle, who’s sandwiched between Murphy and Blair.
As soon as I scurry back to the kitchen, I tug open the freezer and take a deep breath, welcoming the cold air on my exposed skin.
“Get a grip,” I whisper.
When the rest of the meal is on the table, I sit next to my mom, which puts me directly in front of Murphy.
“Your daughter is a phenomenal cook,” Hunter says.
“Thank you.” Mom blots her mouth. “I wish I could take credit for it, but Alice has always loved cooking. She’s curious. And whatever she sets out to do, she does it exceedingly well.”
I glance at Murphy, and he smirks while chewing. He’s thinking about cornhole and bowling. This conversation should have my back straight and chin up. Who doesn’t love a little praise? But I can’t look at Blair, and when I think she’s looking at me, I swear she knows.
Did he leave with a guilty conscience and immediately confess? No way. Surely not.
“Blair is talented too. Not as much in the kitchen, but she’s found herself a good man who loves her for all the right reasons,” Vera says, giving her husband a little smirk that has everything to do with me.
“I can’t wait to have another daughter,” Janelle says, wrapping her arm around Blair to give her a side hug.
Blair tips her head to press it to Janelle’s. They’re so cute I want to vomit.
“How are the wedding plans coming along?” Mom asks.
Vera and Blair perk up, and then it begins, nonstop wedding talk. My mom and Janelle join the conversation with stories of their weddings and Blair’s upcoming bridal shower. Hunter finishes his meal and zones out, focusing on his phone.
Finally, I excuse myself. “I’ll get dessert. Mr. Morrison’s favorite—lemon sorbet.”
“Alice, I like tiramisu and you know it,” he says without lifting his gaze from his phone.
“That’s right. Lemon sorbet is your wife’s favorite. Oops.”
When he finally looks at me, I wink and retreat to the kitchen.