“Jules? Harry is?—“
“This is a disaster!” She interrupts, sprinting past me from her bathroom to the walk-in closet.
“Ok,” I say calmly as she she shuffles through a drawer full of neatly organized jewelry, her hair still pinned back with two oversized curlers. “What can I help with?”
She turns on me suddenly, a silver hairclip clutched in her hand like a weapon.
“Stella, why aren’t you dressed?”
I look down at my fully-clothed body.
“I… am?”
She sighs, pulling out a pair of emerald chandelier earrings.
“Your dress is so wrinkly!” she says. “You didn’t ask Gia to steam it for you?”
“Uh… no? Should I?”
“No time!” she gasps. “Arthur and Patricia will be here in ten minutes, and my makeup looks like shit, and my hair is a wreck?—“
She holds up a handful of her lovely dark hair like she means to rip it out.
“Jules.” I grab her shoulders. “Deep breaths.”
A look of annoyance crosses her face before she reluctantly takes the aforementioned breaths.
“Relax,” I tell her. “It’s Harry’s mom, not Oprah. You’ve already met her a dozen times.”
“I know. But not as afiancée. I just want to make sure I make a good impression. She’s always so polite, but...”
So polite. So are vipers when they’re not hungry. I’ve almost never heard Jules say a bad word about anyone, and if she’s afraid of Patricia, there must be a reason. She’s too trusting, too willing to overlook red flags. It’s a miracle she ended up with someone as kind as Harry and not some jerk like, well, Caleb.
“Jules, you can say it! I’m not going to tell her.”
“Sometimes… sometimes I swear she looks at me like I’m some uncultured farm girl who’s come to steal her first-born son.”
Go, Jules!
“Well, you’renotuncultured,” I tell her. “You’re a brilliant, badass woman with a successful business of your own. And you look beautiful. As always.”
I take the earrings from her hand and slide them through her ears.
“You don’t need to stress. Harryadoresyou. Honestly, there’s not a person in this world who wouldn’t. I’m sure Patricia’s just… slow to warm.”
I hope my assurance sounds genuine enough to calm her down. The first part I believe wholeheartedly: Jules is thefurthest thing from a gold digger I could imagine. But the second?
I did my research on Patricia the second I found out Jules was engaged. While Arthur Warren Senior started as a small-time attorney before building his company from scratch, Patricia comes from a line of steel moguls so long, it could probably reach outer space. My sister’s future mother-in-law is as blue blood as they come. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s plotting to have my sister and Iboththrown to the sharks.
“Thanks, Stelly,” she says. “You’re right! As usual. I’m sure it’s all in my head.”
She looks down at the wrinkled hem of my dress.
“Could you at least try and steam the bottom?—“
“Jules.”
“Sorry. It’s fine.”
