Page 53
“Okay, if you’re sure,” I say. But I really want to tell her Central Kansas winters are a lot different than Vermont winters.
Mildred nods to the driver and he pulls out onto the road and rolls up the window separating us from him. The other two bridesmaids (Kelseigh and Presleigh? I can’t remember) pop open a bottle of champagne. Everyone squeals when it explodes all over the place, not caring that this particular bottle of champagne was probably two-hundred dollars.
Glasses are filled and passed around. I guzzle mine quickly, enjoying the way it burns my throat and makes me feel warm and relaxed. I look over at Trudy. She’s googling the champagne brand. I can tell when she finds the price, because I hear her gasp.
Music starts playing loudly from the speakers and everyone dances in their seats. I’m going to need several more glasses of champagne at this rate.
Normally, I’m all for having fun. But while sitting next to the woman my ex cheated on me with and putting on a happy face for the sister who hid important information from me … it's a challenge to be in a party mood.
A second bottle of champagne is soon popped and poured with only slightly less fanfare than the first. Mildred quickly drains her glass and I make a mental note to watch her tonight. I don’t want her to feel like crap on her wedding day.
“So, Trudy,” Mildred says, using the remote to turn the music down slightly. “How did you meet Todd?”
I widen my eyes in warning, but Mildred ignores me.
Trudy sighs dreamily. “I started cutting his hair two months ago! We’ve been inseparable ever since.”
My stomach rolls, making me wish I hadn’t drunk that glass of champagne. I don’t want Todd back, I really don’t. But the knowledge that he cared so little for me after all those years together definitely stings.
“I still can’t get over that amazing head of dark hair he has!” She sighs again and sips her champagne.
Mildred nods in acquiesce. “Ahh, so you were the other woman for several months then?”
Trudy’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. “What?”
“Mildred,” I say in a warning tone. “Enough.”
“My sister has been dating Todd for seven years. And just recently broke up with him when she found your note on his car.” Mildred pours herself another glass with a smug smile on her face.
Trudy looks at me with a horrified expression. “You’re kidding! Oh my gosh.” Her eyebrows draw together slightly, like she’s deep in thought. “But I’ve never left a note on Todd’s car. He’s weirdly protective of that thing.”
I look at my sister, who’s wearing the same confused expression that I am. “Really?” I ask, and Trudy nods. She has no reason to lie about it, but I have to wonder where the note came from.
“Molly, I’m really sorry. I had no idea! There weren’t any signs of him having a girlfriend.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know,” I tell her, trying not to let this get out of hand and ruin the evening. “It was for the best that we ended things, anyway.”
She looks down intently at her champagne. “You’re not just saying that to throw me off because you secretly want him?”
I scoff. “Um, no. He’s all yours.”
“Are you sure? Because I’d totally trade for that hunk of man meat you’re currently with.”
I withhold an eye roll. She and Todd are made for each other, clearly. “I’m sure.”
Chapter 24
Brooks
Once we finally arrive at some kind of luxurious gentlemen's club in the city, I’m ready to get out of Preston’s Land Rover. I somehow ended up right next to Todd, and it’s taken all of my self control not to put him in a headlock just because I can. And because he’s a horrible person.
Todd sneers at me before exiting the vehicle and loudly asking Preston, “Are you sure they’ll even allow him inside dressed like that?”
“Oh, get over yourself. He looks fine,” Preston says in an annoyed tone.
There are two groomsmen besides Todd who rode here with us. One, Charles, is a friend of Preston’s from college, who actually seems like a decent guy. And the other is Preston’s younger brother, Kenneth, who looks barely twenty-one. They’re all dressed in slacks, button-down shirts, and loafers or Oxford shoes. I’m the only one wearing jeans … and definitely the only one who even owns a baseball cap, let alone wore one tonight.
A middle-aged, but pretty brunette meets us at the front door and greets Preston like an old friend, offering a kiss on each cheek. She leads us to a private dressing room where five red velvet robes are hanging in separate locker type nooks.
