[2022 Wattys Winner] When love cynic Madison Watson starts university, she vows to follow three simple rules.
One: Work out at least twice a week.
Two: Get an internship.
Three: Stay away from men.
But after a chance encounter with th...
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"This is worth more than my savings."
I choked back a laugh, shining the blue china bowl Holly had passed me. "This is worth more than my car."
She swung her eyes to the marble counter surrounding the double sink. "More than my parents' house."
"More than my parents' neighborhood."
Holly snorted, masking her giggle behind her brown hair.
"You know, you girls really don't need to do that." The Bennet's maid popped back into the kitchen, carrying an armful of porcelain plates. "Mrs. Bennet would have a heart attack if she saw her house guests doing the dirty work."
"Please." I waved a hand. "It's the least we can do. She hooked us up with a guesthouse and Harry Potter."
Sort of true. The full truth was that lunch with Mrs. Bennet was giving me flashbacks to lunch with my own mother. Not good ones.
James, Dex, and Noah had left early on Sunday morning for a game of golf with Mr. Bennet. Mrs. Bennet had kindly invited Holly and I to brunch with her and her church friends, an event that I had expected to be a relatively tame affair. But brunch turned into lunch which turned into afternoon tea which turned into cocktail hour. Before we knew it, it was almost five o'clock, and the guys still hadn't returned from the country club.
As much as I enjoyed my lazy afternoon with Holly, I couldn't help but wish we'd been invited out with the guys. That was no shade to James' mum, only ... Mrs. Bennet's friends were ... well, Mrs. Bennet's friends. They were basically carbon copies of my own mother—immaculately dressed, dripping in diamonds, shrill laughs that made you feel like they were judging you. They were the perfect candidates for a Real Housewives spin-off. And, when they weren't talking about themselves, their husbands, or their vacations in Europe, they were buzzing with questions for Holly and me—the shiny new things at their stuffy brunch table.
I'd spent all afternoon overthinking every one of my answers to their questions down to the letter. And it wasn't just fragments of my messy past that I was trying to conceal in those answers. Rather, for reasons that I couldn't quite explain, I really wanted Mrs. Bennet to like me.
Just as one cocktail was turning to two, Holly had subtly widened her eyes at me from across the table, and I caught on—to the fact that she, too, was uncomfortable with the constant attention. We'd retired to the kitchen as soon as we were sure we could get away, taking on the role of a makeshift cleaning crew.
She dunked another overpriced plate with blue flowers into the watery suds, drawing it out and handing it to me to dry. "Just think. This could all be yours one day."
I set it down to drain, throwing her a puzzled frown. She was grinning at me wryly, her eyebrows wiggling.
And, once again, I was reminded of James' lie. Once again, I'd have to lie, too.
