The Best of Winter Renshaw - An 8 Book Collection - Winter Renshaw Page 0,636

says, rising and hunching over his desk. His gaze tightens, squinting. “Just remember, there are two very distinct paths for you here. The first path? All your dreams come true. You’re a millionaire. You’re famous. You never have to want for anything the rest of your life. The second path? You’re right back where you started. You’re some schmuck struggling to pay his rent and working dead-end jobs and playing in coffee shops and bars hoping to be discovered—but you’ll never be discovered. I’ll make damn sure of that.”

My jaw clenches.

“Take her to fucking Vegas and get her drunk for all I care,” he says. “Just … get it done.”

Seventeen

Love

* * *

“What’s her wedding dress look like?” Tierney asks from the seating area as I change out of my bridesmaid dress. Cameo will be happy to know it just needs to be hemmed. The seamstress said she can have it done in three days.

“You know those holiday Barbies?” I ask. “With all the tulle and lace and sequins?”

“Yeah?”

I tug my shirt over my head and fix my hair in the mirror of the changing room. “Like that.”

“I’d expect nothing less from your sister.”

Sliding into my cut off shorts, I zip the fly and fasten the button before grabbing my bag and the dress and stepping out.

“At least the bridesmaid dresses are cute,” Tierney adds, eyeing the strapless rose gold number draped over my arm. “They’re simple. That’s good.”

“Of course they’re simple. She’s terrified of being upstaged at her own wedding.”

“With a Holiday Barbie dress, the only thing that could upstage her would be if Oprah showed up at the reception.” Tierney rubs her belly, which seems to have doubled in size since I saw her the other week. “We almost done? I’m starving.”

The seamstress returns to our area, taking the dress from me. When she turns to leave, she glances at Tierney and smiles.

“Looks like you’re about to pop,” she says. “How many weeks?”

Tierney’s expression fades and she gives the woman a pregnant lady death stare. “Eighty-nine.”

The woman’s smile disappears and she clears her throat before walking away.

“I’m sorry. She’s hangry right now,” I call out, though I don’t know if she hears me. I shoot Tierney a look, wordlessly trying to reason with her.

“You don’t tell a pregnant lady she looks like a freaking elephant,” Tierney whisper-yells.

Throwing my hands up, I can’t say that I disagree. “You ready?”

She reaches for me, and I pull her up from the cushy velvet sofa she’d been waiting on ever so impatiently.

“Did I tell you I’m bringing Jude to Cameo’s wedding?” I ask when we leave the tailor shop.

Tierney grabs my arm, her jaw dropping. “No. No you did not tell me you were taking Jude to Cameo’s wedding. When did this happen?”

“We were texting the other night,” I say. “It just sort of came up in conversation—the wedding did—and he asked if I had a date. And then he offered.”

“That’s … amazing.” Her hangry face turns into a wide, crazy eyes and an even crazier smile. “Good for you for getting back out there.”

“I’m not ‘getting back out there,’” I correct her using air quotes. “We’re just friends and he’s just my plus one.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, what do you think your sister’s going to say when you roll in there with El Supermodel on your arm and she’s walking down the aisle about to marry Doctor Saggy Balls.”

“You’re so bad.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“Seriously though … Jude might upstage your sister at her own wedding.”

“Plot twist.”

Tierney laughs as we round the corner. The café she picked is only a block away, but I’m glad her sense of humor has been restored given her starving condition.

Before we reach the restaurant, Tierney takes a phone call from her husband, Josh, and I take a minute to check my phone. Pulling up my messages, I scroll down to Jude’s name. The last time we texted was about Cameo’s wedding. He’s been quiet since then, giving me space I think. I love that he doesn’t come on too strong. Intensity and perseverance would turn me off. Hunter was intense. He wanted everything yesterday, and if that wasn’t possible then he’d settle for one minute ago.

He rushed everything, always … especially our relationship.

We slept together the first week we started dating. Became exclusive by week two. By the end of our sophomore year, he’d purchased me a gold ring with the tiniest diamond and proposed marriage, and within a month