Page 7 of Sweet Nothings

I’m lying. The sting of what David pulled has faded, but the memory is still fresh. I’m no stranger to being used.

Relationships haven’t always come easily for me. It’s hard to trust others when they’ve used and chewed you up for their own benefit. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I still shouldn’t be. Our marriage was short lived, and in hindsight, we were merely playing roles. I should have seen the red flags David was constantly waving when it came to his constant barrage of questions about my family’s law firm and how he couldquickly move up in the ranks. But my heart simply hasn’t gone completely numb yet. There’s still a tiny fragment of the beating muscle in my chest that burns at the thought of all the times I’ve been chewed up and spit out for other’s benefit.

“It’s not.” She shrugs. “But I still don’t think you should close yourself off to those in front of you.”

“I’m not, and no one is in front of me.”

“Whatever you say.” She smirks, turning her attention back to the room. “Maybe you should marry one of the Harding brothers, then. They’re in the money hungry corporate world, just like you. Although, I hear the middle one is off limits. In my opinion, the oldest looks more your type. His mouth looks like it could do some damage. The good kind, of course, if you know what I mean.”

I attempt to ignore the unrelenting fluttering going on in my stomach. Heat spreads across my chest remembering how it felt to have his tongue taste my skin in the back seat of his car. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I’m all too aware of the damage Lennon’s tongue can do. Fucking ridiculous considering it’s beensix years.

I turn away from Roe, fearing my face might give her an unwarranted confession of the night I first met Lennon. Pushing aside thoughts of his delicious tongue, I replay my conversation with Roe.

Why is she urging me to marry a Harding? I’ve spent the past several years dedicated to my career and interning at Branford and Branford. I don’t care if my sister thinks life would be better if I were with someone else. Even if I were to entertain Roe’s suggestion, I wouldn’t stake my hopes on finding my soulmate at a funeral. Somehow, I find it worse than picking someone up at a bar.

“If I marry again, I’m marrying for love,” I confess to my sister.

My eyes dance across the room, still searching for the best possible escape route without being detected. I consider leaving Roe behind since she seems to be perfectly content seeing this funeral through to the end.

I think I’ve found it but stop when I see the tall, wide man heading in our direction.

“What are you two doing over here?” Frederick asks. My uncle takes a sip of his glass of whiskey before popping one of the salmon puffs into his mouth another server was passing around.

“Just talking,” Roe says.

“You two are always talking.” He frowns. “Steven couldn’t make it?”

Roe twists the ring on her finger and takes a quick drink from her glass. “No. He had a big deal to close in New York.”

“Understandable.”

“We made a few rounds and greeted some people from the country club we recognized,” Roe adds.

“Good.” Frederick nods. He adjusts his black tie, shifting his attention to me. “I know you aren’t the biggest fans of the Hardings.”

“Are you kidding?” I ask him, struggling to maintain my composure. “Neither are you. In fact, our entire family despises them. No one likes them. And I’m fairly certain they feel the same way. They’ve done more damage to this city than good. Everyone knows it, they’re just too afraid to say it out loud.”

“Laurel,” Frederick scolds, hissing between his teeth. He quickly glances around as if he’s worried everyone in attendance at the funeral can overhear our conversation.

I can’t help it. Something about today has me on edge.

I can’t get the familiar blue eyes out of my head. The way his dark hair rested against his forehead. The silver chain wrapped around his neck.

I grind my teeth and count to ten. The inevitable is coming. It dances in my bones, humming through my veins. “Sorry,” I apologize. I’m not exactly sorry for what I said—it’s the truth—but it’s the only word I can bring myself to offer my uncle.

“The Hardings have been great business contacts for years,” Fredrick points out.

“Is it worth it, though?” I ask. “They hate us. I don’t understand why we’re bothering. I don’t understand why we’re here when our families are at odds. They’ve stolen clients and cases from us. We tried to forge a business relationship with them last year, and James practically spat in our face.”

“We aren’t at odds with them.” His dark, bushy eyebrows knit as he squares his shoulders. “Their admonishment for this family lies squarely on the back of your brother. He’s paying the price for the choices he made and for putting our business relations in jeopardy. It’s his fault we are in this position, but I won’t stand for it. I’m determined to get our family back in the Hardings’ good graces.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek until it stings. My chest twists and aches. “Are you truly that desperate?”

My harsh question hits my uncle harder than I intend.

I don’t like talking about my brother.

“Honestly, Laurel.” My uncle shakes his head, frowning. “Aside from their aggressive business tactics and obvious flagrant disregard for flaunting their money, the Hardings aren’t the monsters you’re making them out to be.”

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