In this moment, more than her father’s rejection had ever hurt, his ability to so easily use her as a pawn was somehow worse.
And it was that feeling that propelled her forward as she said, “Actually, in the spirit ofcharting my own path,” she said, parroting his tone, “I purchased The Stone’s Throw Inn in Stoneport recently. It’s my first acquisition, and I’m spending some time getting my bearings before considering any additional growth.”
Her father’s face twisted into an ugly snarl, which Reesecaught clearly before he could wipe the traces of it away. It was poorly executed, though, as what he’d managed to morph his features into made him look like he was having stomach issues.
Good.
“And we’re so thrilled for her,” Sydney said to likely cut off any surprised outbursts from the rest of the Devereux family. “She’s really an incredible woman.”
“That she is,” Stan said, raising his glass up to hers in cheers.
Reese met Sydney’s stare, a radiant smile smoothing all the rough edges of her thoughts. She pretended that her girlfriend was her biggest advocate, working in tandem with her instead of in opposition, and that Stan’s praise canceled out her own dismissal of her father—not that she should need anyone’s ‘atta boy’ to feel good about what she’d accomplished.
“I’m so proud of you, honey,” her mom said in spite of the glower her father leveled at his wife’s response.
For a second, the scraping silverware was the only sound at their table as the moment wound down from its crescendo.
Her purchase of The Stone’s Throw was bound to come out sooner or later, and if it had an adverse impact on her father’s well-being, then who was she to deny herself the pleasure?
“Reese?” Sydney asked, pulling her attention. “Since we’re done with lunch, did you want to grab a shower before we head to the dress fitting?”
There Sydney was again saving her again, this time from what could become a prolonged, unbearable silence.
She stood up from the table but made sure to bend down and give Sydney a kiss on the cheek. “Great idea. Don’t know what I’d do without you, babe,” she said, wondering how much truth was baked into those words.
“Thank you for inviting us to lunch,” she said, looking at Margie and then Stan.
Sydney grabbed her hand. “We should be wrapping up here by the time you’re ready. I’ll text you and we can meet at the car?”
Reese nodded. “Perfect.”
And with that, Reese left the table and, in the process, left varying degrees of confusion, shock, excitement, and anger written across the faces of everyone present.
The cat was out of the bag, but she had a feeling the impact of her revelation was only just beginning.
Eleven
Sydney satin a comfortable waiting area, about the size of a living room, at Marcella’s Bridal Boutique. The room, unsurprisingly, was bathed in whites and soft pinks, juxtaposed with touches of gold accenting the mirrors, furniture, and decorative throw pillows that dotted the love seat where Margie and Sharon sat together.
Across from the sofa, she and Brynn sat in chairs that were undeniably comfortable, and Sydney eased back against the plush cushion, flexing her legs.
Reese had been whisked away upon arrival into the fitting area, separated from the private viewing room by a large curtain. Marcella herself, at no more than five feet tall and with shock-white hair, had commanded the situation with ease, picking Reese out as the Cinderella for her dresses before they’d all finished entering the building.
“Wait here,” was all she had said to them before disappearing behind the curtains with Reese a few minutes ago.
This group was more intimate, and somehow, more intimidating to Sydney than the group at lunch. Given that her ex-boyfriend’s mother, his new fiancée, andhermothermade up the party of the people she could have a conversation with, this was little surprise.
Even so, she decided to bite the bullet. “So, Brynn, you didn’t want to get a dress in Boston? You live there, right?”
That should be safe enough, in terms of conversation topics.
“I’ve gotten all of my dresses from Marcella over the years. I think of Bingham as much more of a home than Boston will ever be.” Brynn looked around fondly at the decorative drapery on the walls, her fingers fiddling with a pendant on her neck. “Grant and I are still discussing where we want to call home once we’re married.”
Margie smiled lovingly at her daughter. “We have a house in Boston where we all lived when Brynn was growing up, but summers in Bingham were always sacred, along with any weekends we could make work. When Brynn graduated high school, Stan and I began spending more time at our house on the coast, and it really stuck for both of us.”
Brynn nodded in agreement. “And what about your parents, Sydney? Are they in Stoneport? You grew up there, right?”
She needed to find time to call her mom tonight, she reminded herself, along with responding to Hallie’s dozen unanswered messages regarding the ‘vibes’ of the weekend.
