Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
My phone chirps and my stomach tenses as I see the name pop up. What now, Mama?
Mama: Look what Celeste found among her dress patterns! She’ll sew them for your bridesmaids. Connie and Stephanie have already sent their measurements and I’ve found the perfect fabric.
I click on the attached picture. Sure enough, it looks like something Celeste Enderbey would sew—chaste and cotton, circa 1985. “Stop it!” I wail, scrolling to the spool of green-and-white gingham fabric. Mama’s favorite.
“Is something the matter, Miss Abbi?” Raj asks.
“Yes, actually.” I groan with exasperation. “You know what you can help me with, Raj? Tell me how to deal with a Momzilla who is trying to hijack every single element of my wedding.”
He cocks his head, his hand collecting mine to study the ring on my finger. “Mr. Wolf neglected to mention that bit of news.”
“Oh.” I flush. “It just happened yesterday.”
A bright smile fills his face as he squeezes my hand. “Congratulations are in order, then.”
His sincerity tempers my frustration with Mama for the moment. “Thank you. It’s all come as quite a shock.”
He gives my hand another squeeze and then releases it. “To you, maybe. I am not at all shocked that Mr. Wolf has asked you to marry him.”
“Really? Why not?”
“He is a different man since he met you.”
“How so?”
“Just … different. In a very good way.”
I smile. Raj is so easy to talk to. “Can I help you with all these groceries?”
“And leave me with nothing to do? No, thank you.” He flashes a grin.
I sip my coffee and watch him quietly as he goes back to his task, washing berries and filling the fruit crisper.
My phone chirps again. A text from Autumn with the same screenshot that Margo sent me earlier. I imagine I’ll see it from various sources several more times before the day is through. “The engagement is all over Page Six already.”
“Par for the course, being attached to such a powerful man. I’m afraid it’s something you will have to tolerate, to some extent, anyway. And some of those reporters will do anything for a juicy story.” Raj empties the carton of eggs into the holder. “One offered me twenty thousand dollars for details on Scott Wolf’s death. He wanted to know why he came here.”
To rape me. And worse, possibly. “Obviously, you didn’t take the payday.” Those details have not been leaked by anyone yet.
“Mr. Wolf pays me well for not only my services but my discretion. These people think they can wave dollar bills and get whatever they want. That is not the case. At least, not with me. And some things do not need to see headlines. It is enough that it ended the way it did.” Raj wipes the counter of a few errant crumbs. “So, tell me about this Momzilla problem of yours.”
I savor my coffee as I download on Raj. It turns out, Henry’s housekeeper is an excellent listener. By the time he’s heading to collect Henry’s clothes for dry cleaning, we’ve devised a plan of attack to deal with Mama that I think—I hope—will work.
I’m reaching for my phone to message Henry when it rings with an incoming call from an unknown number.
“Hello?” I answer warily.
“Abbi! Hey! Congratulations on the engagement!”
“Uh … Thanks.” I frown, the man’s voice unfamiliar. “Who is this?”
“It’s Luca, from the Tribune.”
A newspaper reporter. Great. “How did you get this number?”
“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
While avoiding mine, apparently. My wariness grows. “Actually, I need to—”
“With Henry’s grandparents, father, and brother dead, and mother long since estranged, the entire Wolf empire sits on his shoulders. He must be feeling especially lonely these days. Could that explain the hasty proposal?”
“It wasn’t hasty,” I blurt without thinking.
“You’ve only known each other since May, though.”
“Well, I mean, yes, it was fast. But he gave it thought,” I stammer. Hasty is a terrible word. It sounds rushed and poorly considered.
It sounds like a mistake.
“So you’re not worried he’ll regret it and break off the engagement?”
“I … no?” Should I be?
“You’re his assistant, correct?”
“Was. I haven’t worked for him for months.” I wish the papers would get that part right, at least.
I hear a page flip. “According to sources, your romantic relationship began while you were working as Henry Wolf’s assistant at the Wolf Alaska location, despite a strict corporate policy against it. Is that correct?”
Henry and I figured this question might arise. Now that his father is gone and Henry owns the hotel, it no longer matters, but I know it’ll bother him if his reputation is dragged.
This Luca guy said he has sources. “Who told you that?” Belinda and Ronan know, but neither of them would stoop so low as to sell me out to a reporter.
“My sources wish to remain anonymous. Are you confirming it?”