Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
As a bonus, acting the way I did seemed to piss her off.
Why did it piss her off, by the way? It was almost like—
No. There’s no figuring out her mind. If there were, I would know why she ghosted me three years ago. Not that I haven’t developed a theory: it’s because she’s too fancy to date a lowly personal trainer, which is what I was back then.
I wonder what she thinks of me now that I’m wealthy and successful.
No. There’s no point in wondering. It doesn’t matter. If wealth and status are all she cares about, goodbye and good riddance. And if I’ve looked her up on social media a few times—okay, more than a few times—over the past week, it’s purely out of curiosity, nothing else.
My phone rings.
I check the screen and sigh. It’s Jordan, but she’s calling from her work number, meaning she’s about to talk to me as my CTO.
“Hey, sis,” I say, picking up.
“Don’t call me ‘sis’ when I call from this number. This could’ve been a conference call.”
“Sorry, Jordan. What’s up?”
“There’s a problem. The datacenter in—”
“Let me stop you right there. You’re my top technical person, so you decide what to do.”
“But we have three choices. We can either—”
“Have you made a wrong choice yet?”
“No,” she says sullenly.
“Well, then, there you go.”
Jordan has definitely contributed to my aforementioned wealth. Despite that, she still doesn’t have enough confidence in her decision-making ability.
“Fine,” she says with a sigh. “But don’t you dare question my decision if it ends up costing you a fortune.”
“I doubt I’ll be so lucky.”
She scoffs. “I’m not going to dignify that with a reply.”
“Your call.”
“So,” she says, switching to her casual sisterly tone. “Have you seen Kendall again?”
“No, and I won’t.”
Speaking of bad decisions, mine was telling Jordan about the cursed brunch.
“Yes, you will,” she says. “Your best friend and her best friend are getting serious. It’s only a matter of time before you bump into each other again.”
Fuck. I’ve been trying not to think about that nearly as hard as I’ve been fighting the urge to look her up.
At my silence, Jordan chuckles and says, “You know I’m right. Anyway, I have to run and deal with the datacenter issue that you don’t want to hear about.”
“Okay.” I hang up and blankly stare at the passing streets.
Meeting Kendall again.
It’s going to happen, no matter what I do.
And I can’t say I’m not looking forward to it.
Chapter 13
Kendall
“A destination wedding?” I ask with a huge grin.
“Don’t get too excited.” Emma sets down her plain water on the table. “It’s in Florida, not on the French Riviera or some such.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t even thinking about the location, but given Marcus’s wealth, the French Riviera makes a lot more sense than America’s basement… unless you factor in Emma’s grandparents who live in Florida, of course. “When?”
“Very soon,” she says. “Sorry for the short notice, but—”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll be there.”
“Great,” Emma says. “Now there’s this one other thing…”
The waiter comes with our food, so she stops talking for a moment.
“Yes?” I say when we’re alone again.
She keeps her nose in her plate, which I find suspicious. “It will be just our closest friends and family at the wedding.”
“Right… and?”
“Marcus’s closest friend is Ashton,” she says, finally meeting my gaze. “So obviously, he’ll be there.”
I nearly choke on the too-big piece of Eggs Benedict that I managed to stuff into my mouth. “At the ceremony?”
“And on the plane,” she says.
“I see.” I chew the egg that suddenly tastes like rubber. “I take it Marcus has had a similar talk with Ashton?”
“Ashton wasn’t the one acting weird at brunch,” Emma says gently. “But yes, he told him not to antagonize you.”
If he’s going to be breathing at the ceremony, he’s going to antagonize me, but I’m not going to say that.
“Look, Ems,” I say. “I will not ruin your big day. And if you don’t like my behavior at the rehearsal, you can always—”
Emma snorts. “We’re not having a rehearsal.”
No rehearsal? Come to think of it, they didn’t have an engagement party either—which spared me another encounter with Ashton.
“What about a bachelorette party?” I ask.
Emma grins. “If I were to have one, Ashton wouldn’t be there anyway.”
“So you’re not?”
She shakes her head. “We just want to get married. Quick and easy. No fuss.”
“Okay. How mad would you be if I flew separately?”
Emma’s eyes widen. “You hate his company so much you’d forgo flying private?”
I shrug. “Tierre flies private all the time.”
She grins again. “Doesn’t he make you give him a manicure during the flight?”
“Not a manicure. I just file his nails,” I say defensively.
“Yeah. That makes it less demeaning.”
“It’s not always me.” But very often me. “If you want demeaning, he makes the new girl dance whenever we hit turbulence—and she has to incorporate each bump into the performance.”