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The woman behind the desk didn’t bother to look up as we walked in. “Dana and Charlotte. We’re here with the Harris’s,” Dana said, speaking for me so I didn’t have to.
With one hand, the receptionist pointed us to the doors on our left. “Through there.”
————
Just inside the doors, two women whom I’d not yet met sat in posh waiting room chairs, deep in conversation with each other. I swallowed down the nerves and anxiety, and impending sense of doom from abandoning my comatose father and plastered a smile across my face.
“You must be Holly,” I said to the older of the two women. “I’m Lottie.”
The woman flashed me a grin and stood. Long blonde hair cascaded down her back over the plush white robe, not a hint of gray in sight. She had a much friendlier face than her husband, all soft lines and minimal wrinkles. I wondered if she’d gotten any work done—the lack of crow's feet by her piercing green eyes was more than surprising. That must be where Hunter gets it from.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Lottie. This is Penelope, Fred’s wife,” Holly said, motioning toward the brunette woman on her left. I was relieved she hadn’t said the name Annie. “This must be your maid of honor?”
Oh my God. He already told them. “Uh, y-yes,” I stammered, stepping to the side to allow Dana to step forward. “This is Dana.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Dana grinned, holding out one hand toward the two women. Both hesitated before giving it a shake. “I’ve heard literally nothing about either of you.”
I shot her a glare as my face heated.
“I’m not surprised,” Holly laughed. “I doubt my son has spoken much about his family.”
“Nor your husband,” Dana joked, looking in Penelope’s direction.
Please shut up.
“Do you work for us?” Holly asked, her brows raising. There wasn’t a hint of irritation at Dana’s remarks, and I thanked my lucky stars for that.
“Yeah, I work in the stables. Stable Four to be exact,” Dana said.
“I’m so sorry, I had no idea! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m not around as often as I used to be but I’ll have to make a point to drop by soon.” Holly was a difficult woman to read. She seemed happy, although in the way someone would if they’d spent years in business and knew how to come across with a mask on their face.
But maybe that was just my intense cynicism regarding the situation.
“There’s a changing room just over there,” Penelope said, pointing behind us. “Why don’t you girls get changed so we can actually start to relax?”
Relax. That word had long become foreign to me.
————
The warm bubbles and jets of the hot tub would have been a hell of a lot more relaxing if I wasn’t entirely nude and surrounded by three other naked women.
“Honestly, Lottie, the best piece of advice I can give you is to never let Hunter overshadow you. Harris men tend to do that,” Holly laughed. She leaned back against the side of the jacuzzi, both elbows pitched up on the edge. The water barely covered her breasts. “They’re great, but they have a God complex.”
Penelope snorted and sunk a little further into the water, nearly up to her chin. “I remember when you told me that. Still came as shock down the road.”
“This explains so much,” Dana laughed.
“Just keep your dreams and goals intact,” Holly continued, dropping one of her hands onto my exposed shoulder. I tried not to jump. “Hunter especially tends to steamroll.”
I chuckled. She wasn’t wrong—Hunter did have an innate ability to make everything about him. Even taking over my thoughts. “I’ll keep it in mind. But I’ve never changed my goals for a guy before, so I doubt I’ll let that happen,” I said, giving Holly a half-hearted wink.
A woman in a light pink uniform carrying a tray of mimosas stepped up to the hot tub, slowly lowering onto one knee before holding the tray out to us silently. Holly lifted up from the water, baring herself entirely to the three of us and the attendant, plucking the drinks from the tray one by one and handing them out to us.
I hadn’t planned on drinking, but, when in Rome.
“To Lottie and Hunter,” Holly grinned, her far too perky, silicone breasts not moving as she reached her glass into the center.
“To Lottie and Hunter,” Penelope and Dana parroted in unison, the four of us clinking our glasses before taking a sip of the bubbly orange concoction.
