Page 40 of Love Without Demands

“But not at the expense of the aesthetics,” Mrs. Jones inserted. “Aesthetics are very important in a wedding ceremony.”

I could feel my face heating.She could stick her aesthetics right up her…

“Oh, then I should get some say in who the groomsmen are, right? Because I’m assuming you want to ask Chad.”

“Yeahhh,” Dwight drew out, placing the food down on the low table in front of us and eyeing me warily.

“Well, I think he’s way too tall. He wouldn’tmatch,” I snarked, throwing Mrs. Jones’s words back at them. “And besides, you’ve told me he cheats on his girlfriend all the time. That’s definitely not the type ofaestheticI’m looking for at our wedding.”

He blanched. “Yes, but Chad is one of my best friends.”

“And Artie is one of mine,” I replied smartly. “So either they both stay or they both go.”

His mother’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “We can circle back to it.”How did I know she was going to say that?“I think I’d like to take my food back to the hotel and eat. This has worn me out.”

Yeah, well, you’ve worn me out, lady.

Mrs. Jones came to New York with Dwight for the next three months, and I was supposed to travel to Michigan in June to look at the venue. Luckily my bridesmaids and bridesman agreed to go with me because, honestly, I needed a bit of backup.

I certainly wasn’t getting it from Dwight. He agreed with his mother on every single point of contention, and I was so damn annoyed with him.

In March I was told that my idea to have the groom’s cake in the shape of a golf ball was tacky. I’d truly thought they would like that one since Dwight loved golf and the wedding was being held at a country club with a golf course.

In April, Mrs. Jones informed me that the florist agreed with her on the flowers and that bright colors simply wouldn’t work for a February wedding. So we were going with something called blissful blush. That would also be the colors of the bridesmaids’ dresses.

And in May… well… that one really pissed me the fuck off.

“When you’re here to look at the venue next month, we’ll go to Tremblay’s to shop for dresses,” Mrs. Jones said.

“I saw that on the calendar and have been meaning to talk to you about it. I’m getting a Bouvier dress. Since I’m an employee there, I can get a custom-designed dress for next to nothing.”

Her nose scrunched up and she glanced at Dwight before looking back at me. “But all the brides in our family shop at Tremblay’s.” She said the name of the store like it was the eighth wonder of the world.

“That’s nice, but I’ll be the one wearing it, and I want aBouvier.”

If eyes could pierce holes in a person, I would have been swiss cheese right then. “Youmustget your dress at Tremblay’s. Tremblay’s is the best. It’s where our family shops.”

I pictured myself with a big ole gun, à la Samuel L. Jackson inPulp Fiction, pointing it at Mrs. Jones while I growled,Say Tremblay’s again. I double dare you, motherfucker.

Instead I smiled, a kind of feral thing that crept across my lips like an angry snake. “Well, I’m not part of the family yet, am I?”As evidenced by the Aspen trips, I almost said but didn’t.

“It won’t hurt to take a look. I booked the appointment months ago, and it would be rude to cancel now.”

“But—”

Dwight interrupted with a soft hand on my shoulder that I barely restrained from shaking off. “Honey, it’s like a tradition, and it would mean so much to Mother.”

What-the-fuck-ever.I would go and pretend to look, but on my wedding day, I was showing up in what I damn well pleased. “Fine,” I muttered, dreading my trip in June like I’d never dreaded anything in my life.

Chapter 11

It was a steamyMonday night in June, but I walked to the restaurant where I always met Paul. I needed time to think.

He wasn’t pressuring me to tell my mother I’d discovered the truth about my paternity. He was letting me make that call regarding when and if I shared that with her.

He was, however, very anxious to tell Auburn and Monty that I was their brother. Paul was in the process of divorcing Chloe—about damn time—and that was helping to heal old wounds with Monty. He talked about it a lot with me. And also about his daughter, Evie, who had gone missing over a decade ago.

God, it was fucking weird to think I had another sister out there somewhere. Was she still alive? I somehow felt drawn to this woman I’d never met, and I wished there was something I could do to find out what happened to her. I could read the pain in Paul’s eyes and hear it in his voice every time he talked about his only daughter.

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