Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Since she was moving back home, might as well get used to bumping into Nash. It was bound to happen. If she acted like it didn’t matter, hopefully it soon wouldn’t. Fake it ’til you make it and all that.
Tearing her gaze from his dark stare took all of her will, but she managed, then turned for the bar. Both relief and crushing sadness filled her. That man had turned her life upside down, flipped her heart inside out…and he apparently didn’t even know. Or he didn’t care. She’d thought she was different to him. Clearly, she’d been kidding herself.
Move on, girl. It’s past time.
But when she’d tried, when she had met guys in LA, something always kept her from saying yes. No, someone. Best not to BS herself.
She’d never gotten over Nash Scott. She probably never would.
“Margarita on the rocks, no salt,” she told the bartender. “Make it a double.”
He nodded, then took her friends’ orders.
“Madison will be here any second,” Gracelyn announced, tucking her phone away.
Good and bad. Her bestie would be another buffer between her and Nash…but she’d also bring her husband, who worked with Nash. Who was his friend. Would that drag Nash to her side of the room?
Five minutes later, she knew the answer was a resounding no. Madison spotted the couple the moment they walked in. Matt greeted Nash, then joined his wife again. Instead of coming to talk to her—even to say hi—Nash huddled in the corner with his brother and Laila, Zy and Tessa, along with a few others—and a line of tequila shots.
Less than a minute later, every last one of those shot glasses was empty. The rest of his entourage stared at him like he’d lost his mind.
Whatever. She had to stop fixating and start getting on with her life.
“Bestie!” Madison hugged her tight. “How are you doing? Get most of the house cleared out?”
Haisley hugged her back, grateful for the change of subject. “Yeah. Garage, too. Aunt Cynthia was a pack rat.”
And a very unwilling guardian after her mother’s untimely death. Cynthia had made it very clear that she’d purposely chosen not to have children and didn’t appreciate having a seven-year-old dumped on her doorstep. But since Haisley’s father had walked out when she’d been a baby, her mother’s sister had been her only remaining family.
“I think the word you’re looking for is hoarder,” Gracelyn corrected with a dimpled grin.
Haisley forced a smile. “You’re right. I just trashed forty years of People magazine. I’ve donated all her clothes, cleaned out the kitchen, reorganized every closet… I even sold most of her furniture and hired a painter. It’s taken me a solid week, but it’s starting to feel like my space.”
“That’s great!” Madison encouraged. “I’m so glad you decided to move home. Nothing has been the same without you.”
Haisley scoffed. “From what I hear, you’ve hardly come up for air since you and Matt got married. And now that you have the handsomest little boy…”
“He’s so precious.” Her bestie smiled like a proud mommy, then slid a hand over her belly. “He’ll make a great big brother.”
“Seriously? I’m so happy for you!” And a little bit envious, if Haisley was being honest. “What did Matt say when you told him?”
She blushed. “That’s why we’re late. He, um…wanted a celebration of our own.”
“You just told him tonight?”
“A few hours ago.”
“Congrats!”
“So jelly,” Gracelyn said with a grin that actually held zero envy. “And super happy for you.”
Charli tried to muster a smile but fell woefully short. “You deserve all the happiness.”
Her voice was even more somber than her expression. Yeah, something was up, and since the dude Charli had married last year in a Vegas chapel wasn’t around tonight, there must be trouble in paradise.
No shock. Love only worked out for the fortunate few. For everyone else…it was a fairy tale at best. A pipe dream. To Haisley, it had always been a bitter disappointment.
Since Charli seemed to be struggling, Haisley made a mental note to take her friend to lunch or something soon. Madison was riding high with her new pregnancy. Gracelyn was too optimistic to understand Charli’s despair. So that left her to commiserate over how badly love sucked.
The bartender set down their drinks. Haisley sucked hers back. Gracelyn sipped her fruity umbrella cocktail like a woman who didn’t imbibe much and couldn’t hold her alcohol. Charli chugged a double mojito in less than ten seconds, then asked for another. Haisley decided to keep pace with her. Wasn’t New Year’s Eve for getting trashed?
Yes, and apparently now for avoiding exes, too.
Madison, clutching a cold bottle of water, just shook her head. “What are you going to do?”
Haisley shrugged. “Replace some of the kitchen appliances, the refrigerator first. That thing is a relic. Then I think—”
“I meant about Nash.”
“Nothing. He doesn’t give a shit.” And I hate that I do.