Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“This is my oldest brother, Ransom,” Opal told Arden, not even glancing my way. “Thanks for adding him to the reservation at the last minute.”
Arden shook his hand. “I’m glad to get to meet some of your family.”
Ransom’s hand swallowed Arden’s, and his tanned hand made Arden’s appear pale and almost feminine. I stopped looking at their hands before someone noticed my weirdness and tried to prepare for what to say to him.
Did he realize it was me? I knew I’d changed in the past ten years, but wouldn’t he still see me? Maybe not. I started to open my mouth and extend my hand to shake his when he sat down, not even glancing my way.
Unsure what to say, I dropped my hand and took my seat again. Why had he done that? It was odd, wasn’t it? Rude even. Confused, I studied him for a moment while crossing my legs and settling back against the sofa. I’d learned to mask my true feelings and reactions while dealing with readers. It was a self-preservation of sorts. Drawing from that, I hoped I appeared unfazed by his obvious brush-off. When I had imagined seeing Ransom again, I had always fantasized that he’d finally see me like he had the pretty girls in high school. His gaze would be appreciative, and he’d give me the look of interest that he had given so many others. But no. It seemed in all my growing and changing, I still remained beneath his standards. That soured my stomach.
I didn’t know this side of Ransom. I knew the one who texted me. The friend. Him I liked.
This Ransom I found I did not. He was rude and elitist. As was his sister, I was beginning to think when I glanced at her to see her giving me a look of distaste.
What had I done to this woman? I’d never met her. I didn’t typically cause people to dislike me on sight. I was friendly, polite, tried to always be kind. But she hadn’t given me the chance to so much as speak before she made up her mind about me.
Like her brothers, Opal Carver was the kind of stunning that turned heads.
“This is Juliette Romeo. I’m sure you’ve seen her books on displays. She’s one of our top-selling authors,” Arden told Ransom—I guessed since Opal already knew this. He must be trying to smooth over Ransom not shaking my hand. That was embarrassing, but he meant well.
“Odd name,” Ransom’s deep, husky voice said.
My eyes snapped up from the table where I’d been staring at the glass of water the server had set in front of me to meet his. The smirk on his face and coldness in his gaze were unsettling. I swallowed hard against the tightening in my throat.
“It’s a pen name,” I replied, unable to smile.
“Your writing must be better than your ability to choose a name for yourself,” he drawled.
Opal appeared to have hit his leg as she bit back a smile.
Great. I was in high school all over again. Being made fun of by the popular kids. Awesome.
“It means something to me actually,” I replied, wishing like hell I’d chosen another name now.
The sorrow that came with every word he spoke felt as if someone I cared for had died. And in a sense, they had. Ransom was killing the guy I’d thought I knew. Revealing someone ugly in his place.
He didn’t ask what it meant, which was fine since there was no way in hell I was telling him who I was now. Screw that.
“I questioned her choice myself,” Arden said with a chuckle, “but she was so full of excitement that I couldn’t convince her otherwise.”
That was a lie. He’d praised my choice. But back then, he had praised me about everything. I hadn’t realized it until I listened to him speak about Opal Carver. He was doing the same with her.
“I’ll take your advice happily in choosing mine,” Opal told him.
Kiss-ass much there, Miss Carver?
I wanted to roll my eyes at her, but instead turned my attention to the rest of the room. The couples, groups at other tables, were smiling and talking. Everyone fitting in and being wanted. Something I realized I’d started to take for granted as of late. Forgetting how this felt. To feel like this. The outsider. The one being mocked. Leave it to folks from good ole Madison, Mississippi, to show up and remind me.
A lady appeared at our table then, and I lifted my eyes to see her smiling at me. She was nervous. I recognized that look and knew what this was.
“I’m sorry,” she began. “I’m probably breaking a rule here or something, but blame it on the martinis.” She giggled. “You’re Juliette Romeo, aren’t you?”
I nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “I am.”