Jean had moved closer, trying to peek at the densely printed page in his hand. “What is it?”
“Our prenuptial agreement. Very straightforward.”
Not the word Libby would have chosen, but she kept the snort inside. Her eyes met her best friend’s. Libby could tell Jean expected her to beg off.
“Is there a problem?” Mr. L asked. “I am merely protecting my business interests.”
“No,” Libby said, so firmly he flinched. “I promise not to come for your faucets. Do you have a pen?”
From the pocket of his suit jacket, he produced an ornate silver writing implement that probably cost as much as he was paying Libby to marry him.
Not that a prenup was the same as saying,I do.
She opened the folder, fumbling with the cap until she realized it screwed off. It wasn’t easy to write without a desk, especially with what turned out to be a fountain pen. The gesture lost some of the intended drama when Libby had to go over the first letter of her name four times. Still, she got it done, sending Jean a defiant look as she scratched the finaleon the last page of a contract she hadn’t read.
How was that for follow-through?
Chapter 20
lovelillibetDo you like surprise parties? I used to find the idea stressful. If I’m going to an event, I want a chance to prepare, from choosing my look to selecting the perfect hostess gift. But one day I realized there was an easy workaround: always dress for a festive occasion and keep a selection of tasteful presents in the car. Now I’m ready for any celebration that comes my way.
Love, Lillibet
Image: A package wrapped in handmade paper with a bow woven from lauhala leaves.
#celebrateyourself #bestdressedguest #everydayisaparty
You look tired.That was one of the things Jefferson’s sister had taught him never to say to a woman. Right up there with,When is the baby due?andYou should smile more.According to Susan, all of that was code for,Your appearance is my business, because I am a pig.
So instead of asking Libby if she’d had a bad night when she came into the kitchen looking pale and puffy-eyed, he poured her a cup of coffee.
“Thanks.”
He held on to the mug a little too long, caught by her smile.
“I am so sorry,” Hildy said, skidding into the room with her curls bouncing around her head like a personal typhoon.
Jefferson took a step back.
“What is it?” Libby asked.
“My freaking uncle. Trying to quote-unquote strengthen our bond by taking an interest in my ‘hobbies.’ He actually said that. What does he think I’m doing here, making friendship bracelets?” Hildy squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing the center of her forehead with two fingers. “Also, we were in the same family therapy sessions. Don’t try to pass off a basic exercise from the Showing You Care worksheet as your brilliant insight you came up with by yourself.”
Libby took a long sip of coffee before setting down her cup. Placing both hands on Hildy’s shoulders, she stared into her eyes. “You lost me.”
“Love, Lillibet.He looked it up last night. Allegedly he read a bunch of posts himself, which probably means he asked Thelma to summarize it for him. What do you think his main takeaway was?”
Jefferson caught the slight flinch before Libby smoothed her expression. “I can hardly begin to guess.”
“He wants Crepes Lillibet for breakfast.” Hildy threw up her hands. “Can you believe it? An ocean of profound spiritual insights, and that’s what he gets out of it.Me hungry. Woman make pancake.”
The door to the patio opened to admit Keoki, whistling as he stepped into the kitchen with a handful of fresh herbs. “Who wants a frittata?” His cheerful expression dimmed as he got a whiff of the tension in the air. “No eggs?”
“Could we maybe do Crepes Lillibet instead?” Libby asked.
Keoki frowned. “I thought that was for tomorrow.”
“Slight change of plans.”
