Page 27 of The Charm of You

Maren and I exchange curious glances. There’s obviously more to this story. After all, there’s a thin line between love and hate, and although Addie might be leaning more toward the latter, I know her well enough to read between the lines.

Instead of pressing her for more information like I should, I blurt, “So, you and Austin are really just friends, then?”

“Ew. Yes. He and I are just friends. Some days, we’re barely even that.”

“Why?” Maren squints in my direction, and suddenly, even in this room full of people, I feel like I’m the one on display.

“I’m getting caught up on the happenings around here,” I say, my words rushed. “I’ve missed quite a bit.”

“You should be up to speed.” Addie waves her hands between us. “Now, can we please talk about how freaking trendy Caroline is?”

“That outfit is fucking perfect.” Maren smiles, and they both beam over my square-neck, long-sleeve black bodysuit paired with a high-waisted suede miniskirt, which is also black. The only splash of color I opted for tonight is thanks to the pink heeled booties on my feet.

“You must help me pick out something for the reunion,” Addie pleads.

“I can come over tomorrow. Or, we can go shopping for something completely fresh, if you want,” I offer. “I was actually going to check out Daphne’s today, but I forgot this town basically shuts down on Sundays.”

“You’re not in ‘The City That Never Sleeps’ anymore. You’re in ‘The Town That Likes Our Quiet Sundays And Naps,’” Maren jokes.

“Have you ever thought about using that for Sapphire Creek’s slogan?” I playfully muse.

“Speaking of the city, I need to know how many Broadway shows you’ve been to and if you’ve seen The Lion King.” Maren holds her free hand up. “Actually, don’t tell me, because I might hate you.”

“I won’t answer that, then, but I will say—I love The Lion King.” I nod and sip my drink.

As I savor the sweet flavor on my tongue, Addie lists the sights she’s loved when she’s visited me a couple of times over the years. Once, she flew up to visit me for less than a day only because she wanted to see my billboard for herself and celebrate with me in person. I thought she was nuts when she first called me from the airport, but in hindsight, it’s just Addie.

Her supportive and loyal heart has no bounds, and I’m lucky to be in her good graces. I definitely don’t deserve her.

Maren groans as Addie describes in great detail how amazing the two-dollar slice of pizza she and I shared during her last visit was. “Someday, I’m coming up there,” she asserts.

“You two can visit anytime. I’d love to show y’a—you both around,” I say, tripping over my near-use of the word y’all.

I haven’t uttered it in years. Where the hell did that come from?

Austin Kyle.

He got into my head with his snarky jabs insinuating I’ve lost touch with my roots.

The prickly man knows nothing about me. Where does he get off spouting non-truths against me that might just be a tiny bit true?

The more important question is—why am I letting him get to me?

“Caroline?” I hear beside me, and I turn toward the voice. “I thought that was you!”

“Emmy.” I sweep my old cheerleading girlfriend into a tight one-armed hug, my drink firmly grasped in my other hand.

“I go by Emily now,” she says, pulling back. “As a city counselor’s wife, it’s just more professional to use my full name.”

“Oh. Of course.” I nod, shifting from one foot to the other as she gives me a once-over. “Congratulations on your wedding, by the way. My mom sent me pictures. You were absolutely stunning.”

“The dress was loose since I was a little too good with my diet, but it worked out just fine.” She smiles and makes a show of flashing her gargantuan ring as she takes extra care to swipe her hair out of her eyes.

Emmy Salinger—or Emily Winchester now.

She was always a prima Southern belle and wore her pearls as a badge of honor. Even as a teenager, she was never without lipstick or a proper manicure. She once chipped a nail at cheer practice, and her outrage scared the entire squad. We thought she had spotted a snake or a mouse in that dusty old gym, but it was just a minor chip in her thumbnail.

She always wanted to marry a wealthy Southern gentleman, and she’s living her dream with Simon Winchester III.

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