“It’ll pass. It wouldn’t be so bad if you hadn’t been gone for so long.”
“Yeah, like the rumor mill took a break when Asher moved back and hooked up with Kenzie?”
“Actually, it only lasted a couple of weeks. But once they announced their engagement, it picked up again. Honestly, it would have died down already if you hadn’t come home.”
Tilting her head back, she groans, giving me a perfect view of her neck. It takes all my willpower not to lean in and kiss it, to see if her skin is as soft as it appears.
“How am I going to get through these next three weeks? There’s only so much I can do for Gina’s wedding to keep myself busy and out of the public eye.”
“Don’t hide,” I advise. “Hiding will only add fuel to the fire. It’ll make everyone think you’re still pining and avoiding the two people who should be the ones hiding.”
Please don’t tell me you still love him. Please don’t say it. I can’t sit here pretending it doesn’t drive me crazy.
“You think so?”
“Do everything you can to look unbothered. It’ll make it less fun for them to talk about.”
She turns on the bench to face me, a smile breaking through. “Easier said than done.”
“You’re doing a great job of appearing indifferent to the jerk who left you for the most vapid woman in town.”
She laughs and lightly nudges my arm. “Be nice. That’s your best friend and my… former best friend.”
“Was anything I said untrue?”
“No, but that doesn’t change the fact I feel like the most pathetic woman alive.”
“Because Asher left you for Kenzie? The only student who ever openly admitted to getting on her knees for Mr. Samson to pass high school?”
That story still gnaws at me. I want to believe it’s just a rumor, but whispers circulated for years before I had him as a science teacher. He lingered a bit too long near the girls in class, and there were always murmurs about the favors he expected in return. But they were just rumors. Until Kenzie bragged about her actions as if it would win her popularity points.
Mr. Samson was fired, his wife left him, and he moved to the next town over to manage a liquor store. Kenzie became known as easy, and she reveled in it. That woman has always craved attention, and in the worst possible ways.
Now she’s trying to become Harper. She’s dyed her hair, mimicked her makeup, and even copied her wardrobe. They’ve always shared clothes as friends in their teenage years, but after years apart, this sudden mirroring feels eerily obsessive, like something fromFatal Attraction.
“Can we talk somewhere that’s not out in the open?” Harper asks.
“My shop’s out in the open.”
We step inside, and I lock the door behind us. She studies me with curiosity. “Why lock it?”
“Why not lock it?”
“Because it’s business hours.”
“But I’m with a client.”
Harper laughs and shakes her head. “No, I’m not.”
“I’m working for your father, and you’re related to him. So… client. Now tell me, why do you feel pathetic?”
Sighing, she leans on the counter, cradling her coffee as she stares into its depths. “I had nothing booked for this month that I needed to cancel. I lied to Gina, claiming I rearranged my schedule to be here for her, but I didn’t.”
“No one wanted to get married or engaged in December? That seems odd.”
Her engagement photos always amaze me. She captures those fleeting moments no one expects. Browsing her website and social media transports me into her world. The nervous anticipation of the proposer, the shock of the one being proposed to, and the pure joy when the answer is “yes.” No other photographer has that kind of impact.
“Oh, plenty did. I just didn’t book anything.”
