Talk about a family reunion from hell, Sara Ryan thought as she smiled politely through yet another introduction. Her aunt Lydia had relentlessly marched her around the room like a drill sergeant for the last hour. Her brother, Chris, had been smart enough to make up an excuse that got him out of coming, but true to form, Sara let her mother guilt her into it. The bathroom door was only inches away, and she was so close to making a break for it, when her aunt’s voice rang out loud enough for the people in the next town to hear. “And this is my niece Sara, Joan’s daughter. You know, the spinster. She lives with her brother.” Horrified. That’s the only way to put it. Or perhaps “mortified” was a better word. The entire family appeared to be staring at her with equal parts pity and disapproval. While Sara was frantically trying to compose herself, her aunt patted her on the back before adding, “She spends a lot of time with her mom, since, you know, she’s never had a boyfriend. I’ve told her time and again that she needs to get her nose out of those trashy books she’s always reading. Men like that don’t exist.” Sara wanted to object. There had been some boyfriends. It had been a while, but there had definitely been a couple. Back before the time of electricity and vehicles. Heck, she’d had sex before. But how exactly could she go about denying something so personal without making herself sound worse? Could this get any worse?
She opened her mouth, intent on clarifying some of the misinformation, but her aunt Ivy suddenly appeared at her other side. Shit, what now? Her mother’s oldest sister had always been the more outspoken of the three of them, which was normally amusing—but Sara was already at her limit and couldn’t take much more. Ivy gave her an exaggerated wink, which resembled someone having a seizure, before saying, “I sure love that Christian fella. Now there’s someone who seems like he’s got it all figured out. Ana is one lucky gal. He’s rich, hot, and knows how to take care of his business.” All eyes turned to stare across the room when Ivy pointed to her husband, who appeared to be sound asleep sitting up. “Even Fred likes listening to those audio books.” Oh, dear God, she can’t possibly be talking about Fifty Shades of Grey. Sweet Aunt Ivy? Uncle Fred? From the snickers around the room, Sara could only deduce that Ivy wasn’t the only one who’d been doing a little reading on the wild side. Or was it doing a little wild reading on the side? And while the things being whispered among her relatives might result in years of therapy in the future, it had shifted the attention away from her.
“That’s disturbing,” an amused voice murmured behind her. Sara whirled around to find her cousin Chloe standing there with a grimace on her face. “Sorry about Mom. She means well for the most part.” Chloe was the only child of Ivy and Fred, and two years younger than Sara. She was also single, but no one had called attention to that fact. At one time, she had been very close to her cousin, but Chloe traveled often for her job with a local investment company. And Sara rarely had a night away from taking care of Kaylee, her niece. Truthfully, she had always been a little jealous of her attractive cousin. If her Facebook page was any indication, she had a large circle of friends, whom she was always going on amazing trips with. She was successful, drove a new BMW, and lived in a condominium in the ritzy downtown district of Charlotte. In short, she was living the life that Sara had always imagined for herself—yet had given up on somewhere along the way.
Sara smiled, taking a step closer to her cousin. “Are you kidding? She saved my ass. Everyone looked terrified that my ‘spinsterhood’ might be contagious. I swear I saw Tasha ready to douse herself in hand sanitizer. Who knew that being single was the equivalent of having a raging STD?”
Chloe snorted as they stared across the room at their cousin. “Trust me, nothing else has touched that body lately—if ever. Now, she’s a spinster poster girl. Why in the heck was Lydia calling you out? What’d you do, forget to send her a Christmas card? You know how petty these old