Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Why are you so happy?” I asked as I sat down next to Sutton.
Palmer reached for one of my grapes and popped it into her mouth. “Why wouldn’t I be happy? It’s a beautiful September day. How are the wedding plans going?”
Sighing, I relaxed back in my seat. “They’re going. There’s so much to do and such a short amount of time to do it.”
Palmer smirked. “Well, we want to make sure you can still fit in that wedding dress before your little shrimp grows too much.”
“Ugh!” I said, grabbing some grapes and throwing them at her. “I see you read the special-edition column.”
Palmer chuckled. “I can’t believe they did two columns this week!”
“I wonder when you’ll be in it,” I said.
She let out a humorless laugh. “Please. I don’t give them anything to talk about.”
“That’s true,” Sutton said.
Palmer scoffed. “Gosh, thanks a lot, Sutton.”
“What? You literally said you’re a boring person.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry, I said what?”
Sutton picked up her sandwich. “You’re boring. You said it.”
“No, I said I don’t give them anything to write about.”
After Sutton finished chewing, she swallowed, wiped her mouth, and added, “Like I said, B. O. R. I. N. G.”
Palmer shot her a dirty look. “I’m gonna call in a lie about you.”
“Do you think that scares me?” Sutton retorted with a laugh.
“Wait—have you called in tips before?” I asked.
Both of them looked at me. Palmer’s upper lip lifted into a snarl.
“Are you serious right now?” she stated as Sutton started to giggle.
“What’s going on?” Harlee stepped out onto the deck with her sandwich. The four of us had gotten into the habit of eating at Seaside Grill every Saturday night. My mother would make us something different each week, which we all grabbed from the kitchen to avoid disturbing the staff. Today was BLT sandwiches with fresh fruit and a piece of apple pie.
Palmer answered Harlee’s question. “I said I was going to call in a made-up lie about Sutton to the tip line.”
“God, no. There are already so many bogus tips,” Harlee stated.
“How do you know?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I listen to them.”
“Like the whole column isn’t bogus.”
We all looked at each other. “You know, most of the stuff she writes is actually true, with just a little bit of made-up nonsense,” I ventured.
Sutton sat back in her seat. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to like this person?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying some of the articles are basically true.”
Tossing her napkin on the table, she shook her head. “Oh my God. You’re sympathetic toward them.”
“I am not,” I quickly declared.
“I’m sorry, but did you forget they suggested you’re getting married because you’re knocked up?” Harlee asked.
I frowned. “Oh yeah, I did forget about that.”
“No, we can’t have sympathy for this person. Now that she…or he,” Sutton said, glancing over at Harlee, who raised her sandwich in a silent thank you, “is starting to write about me again, I don’t want to put up with it. I need one of you to do something to pull their attention off of me.”
“If you’re not doing anything wrong, why are you worried?” Palmer asked.
Sutton let out a huff. “You read the column today.”
Palmer stared at Sutton for a few beats. “I did. And it was mostly about Brody going into your store. They didn’t say anything about you really. Or does this have something to do with Brody and you?”
“There is no Brody and me,” Sutton snapped.
Harlee and I exchanged a look. She raised her brows, and so did I. My sister had sure jumped to the defensive—and fast.
Palmer picked up her soda, took a sip, then mumbled, “I rest my case.”
Sutton pushed her chair back and stood, turning her back on us to look out over the bay.
Oh my.
There was something going on with Sutton and Brody. I could feel it in my bones. When I peeked over at Harlee, she was eating her sandwich and pretending not to notice the sudden tension at the table. Palmer was staring at Sutton. When she looked back at the table, our eyes met, and she raised her brows in an unspoken question.
What in the hell was going on with Sutton and Brody?
Gannon
“What in the living hell?” I muttered, staring at the article Brody had tossed onto the table a few minutes ago.
“What’s wrong?” my mother asked as she set a basket of bread on the table, followed closely by my father who dropped a pan of lasagna down next to it.
“The gossip column today,” I mumbled.
My mother chuckled. “I saw it. Seems like the two of you have caught the writer’s attention again.”
“I can’t tell if they like me or hate me,” Brody stated. He put salad in a bowl, then passed it to me.
“Are we all going to ignore the fact that they hinted Addie is pregnant?” I asked, practically throwing some salad into my bowl.