Page 18 of Keeping London (Flawed Heart)

“I love you,” I reply. “Even if your love for snooty parties is a bit of a flaw.”

“I’ll take it. Now, let’s go get me a drink!”

We find Georgia and Mrs. Wright at the bar, each with a glass of wine in hand.

“Hey! What do you think so far?” Georgia asks me.

“It’s different,” I answer honestly.

“He thinks we’re all snobs,” London chimes in.

“I didn’t say that exactly.” I shoot her a warning look.

Georgia huffs, “Well, we are. I mean, this tiny glass of moscato cost twenty-one dollars. What is it made out of? Golden grapes?”

“You had to pay for it?” London sounds appalled.

“Why wouldn’t she have?” I ask, confused.

“Normally, the alcohol is free at these events. I mean, our tickets to get in cost a lot. We shouldn’t have to pay for alcohol, too.”

“Right, because any extra money should go toward booze instead of the charity,” I say dryly.

London playfully smacks my arm.

“There is a free wine list, but you know those are the five-dollar-a-bottle wines from the local supermarket. Plus, Daddy opened a tab and told us to purchase our drinks with it,” Georgia says.

“Oh, good. Do you want anything, Loïc?” London asks.

“I’m good with water, thanks.”

London gives our drink order to the bartender.

“Oh, look. It’s the Petersons!” Mrs. Wright says excitedly.

She’d been so quiet that I almost forgot she was standing here.

“No, Mom,” Georgia says firmly.

“Come on, honey. Patrick has his MD now. He’s a surgeon.”

“I don’t care. He’s, like, ten years older than me, and he is so annoying.”

“Oh, that’s not fair,” Mrs. Wright argues, looking so much like London. “It’s been years since you’ve seen him, and I think he’s only, like, seven years older.”

“Exactly, Mom. I haven’t seen him since we lived in Sacramento. I doubt they even remember us.”

“Oh, no, they do. I’m Facebook friends with Carol, and we see each other from time to time at these kinds of events. Just come say hi,” Mrs. Wright pleads, taking Georgia’s hand.

“I bet you wish Fabio were here now, don’t ya?” London giggles.

“Ew, no. But, if I had known Mom was going to go all matchmaker on me, I would have invited Ben.”

“Who’s Ben?” London asks.

“Just a guy I’ve been hooking up with,” Georgia answers casually.

“But you just broke up with Fabio?” London questions, her voice rising an octave.

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