Except I don’t have anything to share. Not really. Truthfully, I’m delaying our good night because I don’t want to say good night. I’m tired as hell and need to sleep before my early morning tomorrow, but I also want to banter with Odette more. I want to push her buttons. I want to see what makes her tick. Get her to sigh and roll her eyes and admit the reason she’s acting weird is because she wanted me to kiss her.
But she won’t do that. I know she won’t.
“Well?” she prompts when I don’t say anything. “Spit it out. I don’t have all night, you know. I have things to do and weddings to plan.Youto get away from.”
I decide to go with the first part—pushing her buttons.
“Nice panties, Odie.”
One. Two. Three.
That’s how many seconds it takes for her cheeks to turn a deep red. For her eyes to widen. For her entire body to freeze as she stares up at me in complete shock.
“See you Monday,” I say simply, like I didn’t just knock her entire world off its axis.
I toss her a wink, close her car door, and head to my truck.
By the time I’m backing out of my driveway, Odette still hasn’t moved.
I can’t help but be satisfied that it’s all because of me. It’s her turn to stew.
I’m done thinking about Odette Chambers ... and her pink panties.
Chapter Eight
Odette
As much as Saturdays are for dinners at the Stevenses’, Sundays are for breakfasts with the Chambers women.
Every Sunday, we meet at the diner, take up two tables, and gab for hours until we’re all talked out.
It’s my favorite day of the week.
Not just because I love my family, but because these are the only other people who truly understand what I’m dealing with—the curse.
They all live it themselves, so they know how challenging it can be, and why it’s because of the curse that my business is failing. Or at least that’s what I choose to believe because there is no way I’mthatbad of a wedding planner ... right?
“He was bald! His profile picture showed a full head of hair, but I swear, that man could have been a cosplayer for Mr. Clean, especially since he wore all white.” My aunt Krista shakes her head as she recounts the fiasco that was her latest date. I keep trying to tell her this is what happens on dating apps, but she won’t listen. She’s determined to find someone. She’s one of the few of us who haven’t given up on love completely.
“All white to a pizzeria? Is he a supervillain or something?” my mother says. “I’d have dropped sauce all over myself in the first five minutes. Everyone knows the pizza at I Heart Pizza Pie is extra saucy.”
“That’s what I thought. And honestly, I wouldn’t have cared if he were bald. I think bald men are sexy. What I didn’t like was being lied to about it. I should have seen it coming, though.” She crosses her arms over her chest, sitting back in her seat. “All men do is lie.”
Unfortunately for my aunt, her only “marriage” was to a man who was already married. He bled her bank account, then fled the country with his actual wife and two kids. It was a whole huge thing and shook our small community. There was even national media coverage.
Now, though, she’s back on the dating scene, and it’s going about as well as any of us expected—poorly.
That’s the curse for you, though. It’s been like that for all our lives, and it’s clearly not going to change anytime soon. Some of us find moments of happiness, but it’s never true. It’s never lasting.
As much as I try to deny it, I want true. I want lasting.
“Someone else tell a story. Mine is making me sad,” Krista says.
At once, everyone at the table looks to me.
“What?” I ask, blinking at them. “I’m not dating anyone right now.”
“Or ever again,” my cousin Lucille remarks.
