Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“Mommy!” Ripley shouts, hurling herself happily at my legs.
“Marnie!” Geraldine—Gigi—bellows. She throws her arms around me and embraces me warmly, as Ripley does the same to my legs.
“Dad always refers to you as Gigi,” I stammer.
“That’s how I introduced myself to him. It’s my lifelong nickname and the name I like to use on dates.” She bats her eyes at my father. “I think Gigi is flirtier and more fun than Geraldine. More alluring.”
As Dad hands Gigi and her son their wine cups, he says, “Well, you could have called yourself Waldo and I would have found you alluring.”
Geraldine giggles at Dad’s joke before gesturing to the young man at her side. “Marnie, this is my younger son, Augustus. Auggie.”
Augustus.
Shit. Being in the presence of one Holy Roman Emperor suddenly makes me realize the other one—Maximillian—is probably around here somewhere. Or at least, on his way. The thought sends panic surging into my bloodstream. I manage to stammer out a quick hello to Auggie, but I’m too freaked out about his big brother’s whereabouts to say much more than that.
Gigi touches my father’s arm. “Henry, Marnie and I have already met. We met in a yoga class last year and really hit it off. I didn’t recognize her in the photo you showed me.” She smiles at me. “It’s so wonderful to see you again, Marnie.”
I’m a bit surprised Geraldine didn’t recognize me in whatever photo Dad showed her, but I never wore makeup to yoga class, and my hair was always tied back, so maybe that’s it. Or maybe I simply didn’t make as big an impression on Geraldine as she made on me. Either way, I can’t worry about that now. I’m too busy glancing around frantically, looking for Max. I manage to say, “Yes, uh, it’s great to see you, too, Geraldine. Gigi. What a small world. I actually wanted to set you up with my father, remember?”
“That’s right!” Geraldine says. “What a small world, indeed.”
Dad palms his forehead and looks at me with wide eyes. “Gigi is the woman from yoga class you wanted to introduce me to? Well, that’ll teach me not to listen to my brilliant daughter’s advice, ever again.”
I scan the exits, feeling like a trapped animal. I need to leave. Right now. What should I say that won’t make Dad worry too much?
Auggie chuckles. “It sounds like you two were fated to meet, one way or another.”
“It sure sounds like it,” Dad agrees, beaming a heart-melting smile at Gigi.
Geraldine looks at me, and whatever panic she’s seeing on my face causes her beaming smile to fade. “Well, maybe let’s not call it fate, just yet,” she says. “That remains to be seen. But it’s most definitely a lovely coincidence.”
My stomach tightens. Shit. Clearly, she’s misinterpreted my anxiety about Max waltzing through that front door as anxiety about her dating my father. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m the one who wanted to get them together in the first place. I make a mental note to clear that up with Geraldine—Gigi—later. Right now, however, I need to figure out an immediate exit strategy.
Before I’ve figured out an excuse to get me the hell out of here without making a scene, an amplified voice says, “Welcome!” When we turn to look, a well-heeled woman is speaking into a microphone. She thanks everyone for coming today and talks briefly about the importance of showcasing and encouraging local artists. And through it all, I’m on the cusp of a full-blown panic attack. Feeling like I’m going to barf, crap my pants, or faint. Surely, this is the “family event” Max mentioned at the party right after we fucked. This time, after I knew he was Alexander’s son.
The crowd applauds. The speech is over. Now’s my chance.
I open my mouth to say who-knows-what, but Geraldine beats me to the punch.
“Max!” she calls out. “Over here, honey!” Fuck, fuck, fuck! Geraldine waves her hand at a target behind me, and my entire body convulses with dread and shame.
“Hey, Mom,” Max’s voice calls out behind me.
“Oh, thank you for getting the cards.”
“You bet.”
“Everyone, this is my older son, Max. Max, this is Henry, his daughter, Marnie, and his granddaughter, Ripley.”
Welp.
Here we go.
There’s no avoiding it now.
I turn around to find Max dressed in different clothes than he wore at the party. He’s freshly showered and wearing jeans with a long-sleeved knit shirt that clings deliciously to his muscular frame. The instant Max sees me, he murmurs, “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
I look down at my shoes, feeling flushed. Sick. Trapped. If there’s a God, then it’s now undeniable I’m on God’s shit list.
“What’s wrong?” Gigi asks her son, not understanding the reason for his murmured outburst.
“Nothing,” Max says. “My phone is buzzing. Another text from my boss, I’m sure. Hello, Henry, nice to meet you. Marnie. Ripley. You, too.”