“So,” Bailey says, flopping down on the rug with a plate of mozzarella sticks. “Can we please talk about Anne Marie and that God-awful spray tan?”
“Tragic,” Raven adds, finding a spot on the plush sofa. “She looks like a Cheeto dipped in glitter.”
Billie spits out her wine, laughter bubbling out of her. Pink hair coats her shoulder in a soft blanket of waves, the top a more strawberry blonde as she tries to slowly tone out the darkerauburn she’s worn since college. In her words, she’s “going back to her roots”.
“Did you see who she brought to the festival last month?” Billie adds. “Gavin Hale. Still married. Still useless.”
“Shut up.” I shout, covering my mouth, trying not to spit out my cider.
“I can’t shut up,” Billie says dramatically. “It’s a gift and a burden.”
“Mostly a burden for everyone else, I suspect,” I quip, earning a theatrical eye roll and a playful shove. I laugh so hard my eyes water, tears streaming down and my stomach aching from how much I need this. “And the bitch has the audacity to question Jase hooking up with me when she's dating a married man.”
I immediately regret bringing Jase up and potentially opening the floor up to conversation about him, but I’m having too much fun to care.
“So how are things with my darling brother?” Bailey asks, and I am not ready to discuss him with her.
“How about I just say this is going to be a lot harder than I expected.” A knot tightens in my stomach, dread creeping up my spine. Suddenly I’m acutely aware of the rapid thumping of my heart at the thought of Jase, shirtless in his home. Well, I guess it’s our home.
“Not as easy as falling on his dick, was I assume?” Billie asks with a playful tone.
My jaw drops at the same time Bailey tosses a mozzarella stick dipped in marinara at her face. The fried cheese stick hits her right on the forehead before falling on her lap, leaving a wet trail of deliciously seasoned tomato sauce.
Hot blood rushes to my face, my cheeks burning with a mix of frustration and arousal.
“Billie Joanna Cole, how dare you?” Bailey shouts as Billie and Raven drop into a fit of laughter at my expense.
I don’t comment. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d say to that. Thankfully, the girls take the hint, and instead keep gossiping about the new library owner, Meredith, who might be secretly dating the mayor’s son, about how Brenda from the Hairspray Salon had a meltdown over someone else winning “Best Holiday Window Display,” last year, and how our common enemy Mary Beth Baker, is tailing it after the new resident Bishop, Beau.
I shake my head in disgust. “I will do whatever it takes to keep that woman away from my brother.”
“Our brother,” Bailey says, reminding us of the wonderful news that we share a sibling. The room goes quiet for a second before we all burst out laughing hysterically. “Too soon?” Bailey asks with equal playfulness. It’s so good to laugh about this stuff. If we didn’t laugh, we'd probably lose our minds.
Raven stands and pours another round of drinks before sitting cross-legged on the chaise. “I can’t believe Reyna tried to book Stingers for a private wine tasting without realizing I worked there.”
“Yeah, you should have seen her face when she saw you behind the bar that night. I swear she was about to pass out like she’d seen a ghost.” Raven hasn’t told her parents she’s back in town after taking a hiatus from school and moving in with her Aunt Helen. Helen’s friendly, though not with Raven's parents, Dr. and Mrs. Dawson, who own and work at the community hospital and clinic in town.
Raven and her two sisters, triplets, other than their almost identical appearance, are like oil and water. Reyna and Rayleigh are more similar to their parents and hold the beloved Crossroads values to heart. Rae, much like me, is a wild child, and her heart beats to her own drum.
“Which brings me to New Year’s Eve,” Bailey says, flipping open her tablet. “We’re throwing another hugely successful event. Think twinkle lights, velvet booths, a midnight toast, a champagne wall, and Theo Bishop lighting up the stage.”
“I love this energy,” I say, “But does Theo Bishop know he’s putting on a concert on New Years Eve?” Not that country music's very own heartthrob would mind, but my brother is currently finishing up the tour of his latest album.
Billie rolls her eyes at the mention of Theo, who she’s not the biggest fan of. Why? I have no clue. She usually likes everyone. “I’m more interested in whether we thought about a name?”
Raven raises her hand enthusiastically. “What aboutMeet Me At Midnight? An homage to Miss Swift but also Cinderella, midnight, the grand ball.”
“Classy, nostalgic and a little mysterious. I like it.”
Billie claps her hands. “Sold. We’ll have signature drinks, a countdown clock, and a photo wall. Monroe, you better be there.”
“I might be in leggings and swollen ankles, but I’ll be there.” We both laugh because I most likely won’t be swollen since I’m barely even showing.
“You’re gonna be the hottest mom-to-be at the party,” Raven says, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “Now only one question remains. Who gets to ask Theo?”
At once, all of us rush to place a finger on our noses. “Oh, come on, why me?” Billie whines, realizing she’s the one chosen to ask my brother.
“You know,” Bailey says, with a hint of mischief in her eyes. “I originally was going to ask you to be our entertainment, Bills. I’ve been telling you for weeks now that you should give this whole singing thing another try. You’re incredible, Billie, and the world needs to know.”
