Page 99 of Lush

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” I muttered. “Why would anyone think about me?”

“It wasn’t about…replacing anyone, or making you feel less than,” Jennie mumbled.

“She was supposed to marry Conrad in that dress,” I said. “And now you want her to wear it again for me? Like I’m just picking up where he left off? Like it’s supposed to fit my life the same way it fit his?”

“That’s not how anyone sees it, Reese,” she said, her tone almost pleading.

“It’s howIsee it,” I shot back. “It fucking hurts. Why the hell am I still living in his shadow? Nothing I ever do will be enough to be seen as more than his replacement.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “I know you and Conrad never got along?—”

“I’m just supposed to grin and bear it, right? Play the role? Pretend like it doesn’t fucking kill me? You’re the only person in this family that gets me. You out of everybody in this family should have stood up and saidno.”

“Reese—”

“I’ve spent my life trying to be different from him,” I went on. “But the truth is, it doesn’t matter what I do, does it? I’ll always just be the one who wasn’tConrad. I bet you wish I was dead instead, just like Dad does.”

Jennie’s face fell, but I didn’t let myself feel sorry for her.

“I’m not Conrad, and this wedding isn’t his memorial service. It’smyday.”

I took a deep breath.

“I need to go.” I leaned down, planting a kiss on the top of Jennie’s head, but she wouldn’t look at me. “Tell David he owes me a drink for hauling that crib up here.”

“Reese, wait?—”

I was already heading for the door, my mind racing with thoughts of Laurene.

I reached my car, slid in, and put my head back. My grip on the wheel tightened, and before I knew it, I was turning the key.

What the hell was I thinking? A cake? A fucking cake? I ran a hand through my hair, staring at it. I parked outside the Kings’ place, my heart racing.

I stopped off at Café L’Amour on the way. I knew Laurene loved that place—they served her favorite dessert.

I grabbed the box. Whatever, who cares. I slammed the car door and went to the front door.

Sighing, I rangdoorbell.The door opened, and there he was: the butler who saw us in my car.

Great.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Ashbourne,” he said. “Can I help you?”

I played it cool. “Um, is Laurene in?”

“Miss Laurene’s in her studio near the garden, sir. Shall I fetch her for you?”

The cake box felt heavy. “Uh, no. That’s okay. I’ll go to her.”

“Very well, Mr. Ashbourne. I trust you know where it is?” He smoothly stepped aside, and I swore he was smirking.

The grand mansion loomed, its high ceilings echoing faintly, marble floors cold beneath my feet. I stepped onto the warm patio, surrounded by lush greenery.

I found the little guest house way at the back of the garden; it was painted a pale green. The last time I was there was before she got engaged to Conrad. I pushed the cracked door open.

“Reese? What are you doing here?” Laurene turned to me in paint-covered jeans and a too-small T-shirt.

I felt ridiculous holding the cake box. “Got you something.”

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