Faking Forever (First Wives #4) - Catherine Bybee Page 0,62

back, crossed her legs. “You called to ask my advice, but it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

Shannon set her wine down and unfolded from her chair. “About closing the business, yeah. I didn’t call you about that.” She stepped through the open door leading inside and brought out a stack of photographs she’d taken over the past week. “I wanted your opinion on these.”

She handed them to Lori.

Slowly, Lori looked over each individual picture without saying a word. At one point she put her glass of wine down and peered closer.

Her silence had Shannon wondering if maybe she was premature in closing her business. Maybe her dream was born from a childish desire and not talent.

After what felt like an hour, Lori finally flipped through the last image and lifted her gaze to Shannon. “Let me start by saying I don’t know a thing about photography.”

She felt her heart sink.

“Stop that!” Lori scolded her. “I don’t have a professional foot in this platform, but I know what I like. Holy shit, Shannon. Why are you sitting on this talent?” She thumbed through the pictures and isolated one. It was of a homeless woman, but not as you would expect to see her, full of despair and pain . . . no, Shannon had captured this woman as she sat beside her dog. The love in her eyes and happiness she had for the animal were palpable.

Shannon had offered to buy the woman a meal as she pet her dog. She seemed surprised that Shannon was even talking to her. They shared a few minutes. Shannon asked if she could take the woman’s picture and promised to return with a copy. Only the woman wasn’t in the same spot when Shannon returned a few days later.

“I forgot I had it,” Shannon told Lori. “I’ve been so busy feigning a happy life I misplaced the things that made me smile.”

Lori set the photographs aside, picked up her wine, and lifted the glass in the air. “To closing one door and opening another.”

Shannon could drink to that.

Lori cleared her throat. “Does any of this have to do with Victor?”

“Avery told you.” Shannon wasn’t shocked.

“Guilty.”

She waved Lori’s concern away. “I suppose me flirting with any man is newsworthy.”

“Ah, yeah!”

“I’m not sure what Avery said. Most of it’s probably true.” Her friends didn’t embellish like so many others did.

“He was the groom?”

“Yeah, that part is true. But to be clear, I thought he was an absolute jerk until after Corrie ran off. I’m still not completely sure he’s able to be anything but self-centered.”

“Avery implied that he was dialed into you like a bear to honey.”

Shannon took a bigger sip of wine. “Which could be because he had just been dumped. That’s why I’m waiting another two months to meet with the man. If there is still a spark, I’ll go out with him. If not, no harm, no foul.”

“How very calculated of you.”

“Isn’t that how I am? I think everything through. I usually mess up the outcome, but I do try and consider all the possibilities before making any decisions.”

Lori smirked. “Two months is a long time.”

“Sixty-two days, actually.”

She laughed. “Not that anyone is counting.” Lori paused. “So does this mean you’ve put the baby daddy thing on hold completely?”

Shannon cut off a piece of cheese and nibbled as she spoke. “It might be a little awkward to go on a first date pregnant with another man’s child.”

“To say the least.”

“It’s only a couple of months. Besides, I don’t feel as settled as I did before going to Mexico. I have two more weddings booked, and I’m closing my doors. I’ve already contacted a couple of colleagues to send referrals. I should sell this house, truly cut my ties to anything that reminds me of my other life.”

“Not your new friends, I hope.”

“Goodness, no. You guys can’t get rid of me that easy. You’re the ones who have kept me fueled. I need experience walking in these new shoes.”

Lori regarded her feet. “What shoes are those?”

“The ones that close the doors on what everyone else thinks I should be and start living for myself again. My aunt Joan, on my mother’s side . . . she pulled me aside the Christmas after Paul and I split. She said to me, ‘Shannon, wait until you’re fifty. You won’t give a crap about what anyone else thinks about you. Wear the red hat and dare people to look.’ She’d been referring to the

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