the same shape right across the street. Maybe we can be neighbors.” The thought of being Jessica Holt’s neighbor should strike terror in my very soul and probably would have had we not had so much fun at the country club the other day.
Still, it’s kind of hard to let go of my hatred completely after the way she tormented me in high school. Then again, if we’re neighbors, that guarantees she doesn’t wind up with Buck because she’s in Creek Water with me, not in London with him. So many things to consider.
I let my mind drift and decide I might just be able to forgive my old nemesis, even though she starred in a solid forty percent of my adolescent revenge fantasies.
When she opened up during our dance lesson and told us things that made her seem vulnerable, she was almost relatable, nothing like the horrible snob she used to be. I’m going to have to spend more time with her before the jury inside my brain renders a final verdict, but I’m leaning toward thinking she’s changed. I can probably let bygones be bygones as long as she doesn’t wind up with either man I’m considering.
“We should go look at that house tomorrow, Ash,” Buck suggests.
“I work all week,” I remind him. “I don’t think I can see it until the weekend.”
“Speaking of working,” he says, “I need to make a short side trip while I’m here. Jessica tells me there’s an iris festival taking place this week in a little town just over the Tennessee border. I thought I’d check it out in case it’s something I want to include in my magazine article.”
“I’m going with him!” Jessica declares excitedly. “I’ve gone every year since I was six. I can show him all the best places to eat and take pictures. We’re going to stay at this little bed and breakfast on the outskirts of town. It’s going to be so much fun.” Yack, yack, yack, yack … You could drive a car into the pit that’s formed in my stomach. I want to tell her to shut her pie hole. I also kind of want to lean across the table and tear out her hair. What does she mean she’s going with him?
Things seem to have progressed much more rapidly with Buck and Jessica than one would think possible in such a short time. I mean, hello, we’ve been friends for over twelve years, and I can’t even get to first base.
I look at my best friend in an accusatory manner and he hurries to explain, “We got the last two rooms available.” Like that makes it more palatable.
The waiter finally shows up to take my drink order and I decide to go for that tequila shot after all.
Chapter Forty-Six
May 3, 2016
Dear Molly,
I saw Chad Adkinson at the grocery store today. I wasn’t sure whether I should run for my life or hit him over the head with the bottle of wine in my shopping cart. It’s been so many years since I’ve laid eyes on him, I’ve nearly convinced myself that he was no more than a bad dream—like Voldemort dropping by with Pennywise the Clown to see if I wanted to play strip poker.
He was buying bran flakes, of all things, which made me wonder if his innate nastiness has resulted in a bolder-sized blockage in his colon. One can only hope.
I hid behind an oatmeal display until I saw him head toward the checkout. Then I loitered in the feminine hygiene aisle until I was sure he’d left the store. I was afraid he’d never leave, and I’d have to live among the tampons forever.
When Davis shows up, I’m so relieved I nearly throw myself into his arms. He kisses my cheek before greeting Buck and Jessica. He asks, “How is it I’m the last one here? It’s just seven now.”
“Buck picked me up early,” Jessica tells him with a glint in her eye.
I stare at my friend with a look that clearly says, Oh, you did, did you?
He stares back defiantly, almost daring me to complain, which means there’s no way I can.
After ordering our dinner, I excuse myself to powder my nose. I actually just need a minute to collect my thoughts. Yesterday I thought Jessica and Davis were an item and I was wondering if Buck might be the man of my dreams. Not twenty-four hours later, my best friend and Jessica are going away together, which makes it