“Of course I’ll go! I already got the invite, anyway. You know I wouldn’t miss your wedding for all the Bordeaux in Bordeaux.”
“So… Laura seems to have a handle on everything here.”
He hiccuped. “What time have you got there? One o’clock? I’ll mark your timesheet. You’re done selling books, Peaches. Right now. Walk out that door and live your life.”
“Are you drinking?”
“It’s Taste Test Tuesday here. Now get going. I forbid you from working another minute.”
I thanked him, said goodbye, and put my purse on my shoulder. On the way out, I stopped to let Laura know her position had been made permanent, and I was happy for her.
She squealed and hugged me.
I was almost at the front door when I remembered something. I ran back to the counter, shook the pens out of the cup-holder tin Kyle had decorated, and tucked it into my purse. “Someone I love made this for me,” I said.
Laura grinned. “I understand completely. Good luck with your wedding. Let me know if I can help.”
“You could start a rumor that the location is Duck Pond Park.”
“I could totally do that,” she said. “People have been pumping me for information ever since Sunday. Typical small town nosiness.”
I winked at Laura and walked out the door, my thoughts alternating between the positive and the negative:
Yay, I’m free! No more talking about book clubs while I’m hopping around on one foot desperate to pee!
Oh, crap. I’m unemployed. I’ll have to sell my designer dress on EBay for rent money.
I can go home and have a nap!
What if Dalton doesn’t love me and he crushes my heart on our wedding night? What if he’s fucking that Justine chick on the side? What if his whole story about the chubby neighbor was a lie, and this is just a phase, and soon he’ll be back to skinny actresses?
Yay, I get to wear a pretty dress on Saturday!
I settled on the happy thought about my dress.
Then I caught the bus home, made and ate a batch of Rice Krispie squares, and napped the rest of the day.
Unemployed life is amazing!
CHAPTER 36
Wednesday.
Three more sleeps until my wedding.
Wednesday was the date Mitchell was scheduled to arrive in town to help me get ready for the wedding—not that I needed much help, since Vern was busy coordinating most of the preparations, with help* from my mother.
* By help, I mean my mother provided equal parts help and hindrance, netting out to neutral. Whatever. At least they got the flowers sorted out between the two of them, and no orchids were beheaded.
I’d been text-messaging with Mitchell for days, but he was deliberately vague about how he was arriving in town. Vern was still in Washington State, with the plane, so I imagined Mitchell was driving up from California.
And he was driving up, as it turned out.
In a sexy red car.
The car pulled up in front of the house around two o’clock Wednesday afternoon, and Shayla and I ran out to greet Mitchell.
“You upgraded,” I said, referring to his blue two-door Miada.
With an impish smile on his adorable face, Mitchell tossed the car keys to me. “You’re the one who upgraded,” he said.
The keys landed in the grass before me.
A minute later, I picked up the keys, along with my jaw, off the grassy front lawn.
I mumbled, “Shayla, Mitchell, introductions, go.”
As they said hello, I shuffled like a zombie toward the pretty red car in my tunnel vision.
The car was gorgeous—sporty and expensive-looking, but with four doors, so it wasn’t all that impractical, though the gas mileage would probably make my father cringe.
I’d never owned a car before, much less gotten one as a gift. I climbed in the driver’s side and found an oversized bow wrapped around the headrest of the passenger side, along with a card.
My hands shook as I opened the envelope.
The card read:
I couldn’t decide between blue or red, since you look so beautiful in both colors, so I let Mitchell pick which one to drive up. - Dalton
P.S. It’s really yours. And so is the matching one that’s parked in front of our house in LA.
I held my hands over my mouth and screamed with happiness. Two cars? Was I still napping and dreaming?
The leather on the seats felt buttery, and there were so many buttons to adjust everything—buttons I didn’t know cars had.
Shayla and Mitchell had to forcibly drag me from the car. I apologized and hugged Mitchell, picking him up off his feet without even thinking.
“I’m not a toy,” he howled, laughing and struggling for me to put him down.
Shayla stared at Mitchell, with his curly gold hair and light blue eyes, then turned to me. “You’re right. He’s fun-sized, just like Golden.”