“I think every woman in Maine is present and accounted for,” I say, doing a quick head count that makes me slightly dizzy. And maybe every cat and dog, too.
“Present and ready for trouble,” Camila announces, appearing at my elbow with Macy in tow. Both of them are wearing enough glow-in-the-dark accessories to be visible from the North Pole.
I take a moment to frown at Camila. “Please tell me you didn’t pick the most scandalous books in the universe,” I beg.
“Define scandalous.” Macy grins wickedly.
“Oh, we definitely picked the most scandalous books in the universe,” Camila confirms cheerfully. “I may have bookmarked the spiciest scenes for maximum entertainment value.”
Macy smirks at both Buffy and me.I doubt either of my prissy, sissy sisters has actually read a romance novel before,Macy thinks with amusement.This is going to be educational.
“Educational is one word for it,” I mutter.
“Don’t worry.” Camila continues, “I’ve got my phone ready to record the whole thing. This is going to be social media gold.”None of these women have any idea what they’re in for,she thinks gleefully.Wait until they hear the scene with the pirate captain and the storm-tossed maiden.She giggles to herself with the thought.
Oh, good grief. This self-appointed Bridal Rescue Squad is going to turn tonight into a cautionary tale in about twelve different ways—and at least two of them are probably illegal.
Charlotte and Kiki materialize from the crowd, both looking like they’ve fully embraced the tropical nightclub aesthetic, covered head to toe in glowing paraphernalia. Charlotte has her phone out, naturally, documenting everything with the dedication of a war correspondent.
“This is absolutely incredible!” Charlotte gushes, snapping photos of the tiki setup. “My followers are going to die! Hashtagliterary ladies, hashtag glow party, hashtag naughty summer reading goals!”
This is perfect content,she thinks happily.I knew my wedding would be the social event of the season.All these women fawning over me like I’m some kind of celebrity. Which, let’s face it, I basically am.
“It’s certainly... vibrant,” Kiki says, and I catch her surveying the room with the analytical eye of an attorney, mentally calculating liability issues.
I hope whoever organized this has good insurance,she thinks.Because this setup screams fire hazard and a lawsuit waiting to happen.
“I hope you ladies have a wonderful time tonight,” I say, watching their easy camaraderie. “And you look like the two of you are off to a great start.”
“Oh, we are. Kiki has been amazing all week,” Charlotte gushes. “She knows all Piers’s favorite things and has been helping me plan the perfect surprises for him.”
Listening to her gush about their future together makes me remember what I used to have with him,Kiki thinks, her smile cold as ice.She’s practically glowing about marrying a man who still texts me when he’s had too much to drink. How pathetically naive.
Oh wow. I’m not too impressed with the drunk texting. I don’t care if he is intoxicated while he’s doing it. That’s not a good look. I feel bad for Charlotte already.
“Well,” I say carefully, “it’s nice to hear you two are collaborating to pull off the perfect wedding.” Mostly.
“Women supporting women,” Charlotte declares, raising her glowing cocktail. “That’s what tonight is all about!”
The crowd starts to quiet down as Buffy makes her way to the makeshift stage area, pink spotlights casting her in what can only be described as literary goddess lighting. The yacht rock music fades to a background whisper.
“Ladies!” Buffy calls out, and the room falls into an expectant hush usually reserved for wedding ceremonies and court proceedings—and apparently R-rated book readings. “Welcome to Storytime After Dark!”
The cheer that erupts could probably be heard all the way back at What Ales You.
“Now,” Buffy continues with a grin that lets us know she’s fully embracing her role as tonight’s literary ringmaster, “Camila Ryder has been kind enough to provide us with some very... educational reading material. Are we ready to expand our vocabularies and our imaginations?”
“We’re ready!” the crowd shouts back with the enthusiasm of women who’ve had just enough glowing cocktails to be dangerous.
Camila steps forward, book in hand, looking like she’s about to conduct the most entertaining circus of her life. “Chapter seven,” she purrs with wicked glee. “The Storm... We’re cutting right to the good part.”
But before she can launch into what I’m sure will be a mortifying literary experience, I spot Bea across the room nursing what appears to be her first and probably last glowing cocktail of the evening. She’s positioned herself strategically near the self-help section, probably hoping the books on personal growth will provide some kind of spiritual protection from whatever’s about to happen. Little does she know that nothing can shield any of us from Camila’s and Macy’s literary assault on innocent minds.
This is exactly the sort of frivolous nonsense that’s wasting everyone’s time and money—mostly my time and money,she thinks, eyeing the tiki torches with disapproval.Charlotte should be focused on her wedding, not attending literary orgies.
Literary orgies? That’s a new one, even for me, and I’ve read a lot of minds.
“Ladies!” Buffy calls out again, clearly trying to regain control of her literary circus. “Before we begin our reading, let’s all raise our glowing beverages in a toast to summer nights, good friends, our blushing bride Charlotta, and books that make us blush!”
