“Why can’t you treat me like you do your friends?” my mother whined as I worked on redoing the wedding venue layout in my design software. “Let’s go out, get drinks, and you can tell me all about Evan.”
“You mean, I pay for drinks while you give me terrible advice,” I retorted.
“I’m your mom,” Tiffanie said shrilly. “I’ve sacrificed everything for you. I never got to have my fun teenage years. I didn’t get to go to college and party. I didn’t get to live in New York City as a single woman. You owe me for everything I’ve done for you.”
“Fine,” I said, grabbing my purse, pulling out the last ten-dollar bill from my wallet, and shoving it at her. “Go have a drink.”
“This isn’t enough for a drink,” she complained. “And I wanted to go with you, my only daughter, and have some girl time.”
“One of us has to find a way to pay for all of this and put on a wedding that Imogen is hell-bent on derailing,” I snapped, hating that I had just fallen back into the same pattern, with my mom guilt-tripping me and me then having to act like the adult and manage her feelings. “I need to outline the events for the article that one of Evan’s magazines is publishing about the wedding. I can’t go have fun with you right now.”
My mom’s phone dinged. She smiled.
“At least Imogen wants to go have drinks. She wants my opinion on the flower arrangement.”
“Those are already set,” I warned as my mother skipped out, texting on her phone. “Tell her they’re already set!”
* * *
“We are not changingthe flower arrangements again,” Amy told me over breakfast the next morning.
“No way,” I agreed, cutting into my eggs Benedict.
“Really?” Amy said. “Because Imogen sent me all these pictures of flower arrangements at two in the morning.” I looked at her phone screen.
“I’ll tell Evan to tell her it’s not happening.”
“Oh, so you and Mr. Harrington are on a first-name basis now?” Amy teased. “I thought you two were just having a very discrete hookup.”
I spread jam on a piece of the artisanal scone. “He said he wants more.”
“Like more sex? More kinky activities?”
“Like a relationship.”
“That’s not a good idea. Besides, Camilla still thinks they’re getting back together. She could ruin our business and make our lives miserable.”
“Are you sure Evan is worth all that?” Elsie asked. “Maybe he just wants you because he can’t have you, and you’re not throwing yourself at him like the bimbos he’s used to. As soon as you give in, he’ll get bored. Just let Camilla have him back.”
“But she’s so awful!” I said, taking another bite of my eggs Benedict. “I can’t just hand Evan over to her without a fight.”
“Oh my word, you actually care about him!” Sophie insisted.
“I don’t! I just feel bad for him. And he’s hot and is good in bed. It’s like crack for me.”
“You like him for more than that.”
I looked at my plate dejectedly. “It doesn’t matter. Guys like him and girls like me don’t belong together.”
“Boo,” Grace said. “Give it a shot. What do you have to lose?”
“Uh, how about our entire business?” Elsie countered.
“You’re the last one to be worried,” Grace told her. “Weddings only make up like a third of your catering contract. Don’t you mostly do bar mitzvahs?”
“I still don’t want to be blacklisted! A lot of our business is repeat clients.”
“I think it’s too late,” I moaned. “Last night when he asked to get serious, I wasn’t all that enthusiastic.”
