Page 40 of Dream Lover
The time for cake had come and for some ungodly reason I was volunteered to take Rebecca her slice. Yes, this was bad.
I’d bent down to slide the plate in front of her, and my arm caught on her wine glass. Before I could catch it, the glass tipped over, and red wine spilled all over the lap of her white dress.
“Oh. My. God.” Her hands flew up. “You did that on purpose!”
That pissed me off. “What? No. I didn’t. It was an accident.”
“You don’t want me to marry Andrew. You hate me.” She put on a dramatic scene with crocodile tears, wanting me to look bad and her to be the victim. She was right, though. I didn’t want my brother to marry her, but I wasn’t so low that I would sabotage her party. Come on.
“Becky, I love my brother, and he loves you. Therefore, that makes us family. I’m sorry I ruined your dress.” The apology was painful, but I only said it because my mother was watching.
“Whatever,” she huffed toward the house to change.
I really wanted to skip out but knew my mother would want to stay at least until her gift had been opened. I wanted a shot of whiskey or tequila, but I had to drive. Mom should’ve driven.
It didn’t take Rebecca long to change, and eventually the whispers and stares shifted from me and everyone’s attention was back on her. She took a seat in the middle of the tent.
“Quinn,” she called out. My mom elbowed me to get my attention and nodded to Rebecca.
“Yeah.”
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed before she cleared the venom in her voice, surely not wanting my mom to hear. “Can you come write down all the gifts so I can send thank you cards?”
That bitch. No, I couldn’t just sit here and get through this damn train wreck. No, I had to pay attention enough to write shit down.
And the worst part, no wasn’t an option.
“Sure.” Rising from my seat, I joined Rebecca, but sat off to the side. It was close enough.
The other members of the bridal party assisted her while she unwrapped and opened all of her gifts. She received a lot of skimpy lingerie and personalized towels and such.
My mother had put a lot of thought into her gift. She made Rebecca a photo album that had photos of my brother and our family in one section detailing our family tree, and the second section had Rebecca’s photos and family. The third section was reserved for when they started their family. The thought of my brother having children with her made me sad, and I was ready to get out of there.
Rebecca flipped through it, not really looking at the pages when she did. As Rebecca hugged my mom and thanked her for the gift, a small tear fell down my cheek.
This woman didn’t deserve my brother, and it broke my heart to sit back and watch.
* * *
After droppingmy mom at home and dodging her questions about Conner, which was painfully hard because she kept probing, I went home happy to have a break. Kicking my shoes off, I fell to my bed.
Conner said he wouldn’t be able to call, and I wasn’t sure when he’d be back in town.
But Carrie had called yesterday and casually mentioned they had dinner with their parents the night before, and I felt perturbed. I hadn’t called him either, but I thought once he returned, he’d want to talk about what happened. I guessed not.
The man was giving me mixed signals, and I was over it.
I had just gotten in from work the next day when my cell phone rang. Rebecca’s number was the last I expected to see flashing on my screen, and I answered it as if snakes were going to come out and bite me.
“Quinn, I need a favor, and before you say no, you owe me after spilling wine on me,” she said without a greeting.
“Yeah, sure. What is it?” I knew it was easier to just agree with her and go along with whatever it was. I only hoped I wouldn’t regret it.
“Tomorrow is the final cake testing for the wedding. I need you to be there with Drew. I have a spa appointment, and I can’t miss it. Their next opening is in two months, and I need it before the wedding.” The fact that Rebecca was passing this off to me was alarming. She had been such a control freak when it came to every detail, but who was I to argue with her? Maybe I could use this as an opportunity to really talk to my brother about this wedding. Not that he’d listen, but hell, I had to try at least.
“Sure. Text me the address and time.”
“Great. Thanks, Quinn.”
