AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His eyes go rolling around in his skull. “Y’know, if I had my way, I’d shove you and Alana into a broom closet and barricade the door. Until the two of you talked out your issues like real fucking adults.”
See what I mean? Thinks he’s a goddamn guru now.
The receipt crinkles in my fist. I smack the back of Jasper’s big head. “Oh, I bet you’d just love that, little brother…” I turn and stroll out of the office. There’s no point in continuing this conversation.
When it comes to Alana, decisions have been made, papers have been signed, and things are set in stone. There’s nothing left to talk about, and I wish my family would get that through their thick heads and leave me alone.
Because talking about this shit? It still hurts.
3
ALANA
“Special delivery, ladies!”
I carefully slide the tray of drinks onto our table, and the girls all holler in delight. We tried waiting for a server to come around, but it sure looks like our waitress forgot all about our private party.
It’s Meghan’s bachelorette night. We’re all gathered here in the private room we reserved at this classy new wine bar. Everyone around town’s been talking about this place. We don’t have many fancy spots like this in Honey Hill so this outing is supposed to be a real treat.
The bride-to-be eagerly snatches up a glass. She lifts it halfway to her lips before she shoots a frustrated look across the room. “Ziggy honey, could you please not summon spirits at my bachelorette party? When I’m done drinking all this alcohol, I’d like to be able to tell whether I’m plastered or haunted.”
I glance over my back to see a frowning Ziggy. She’s whirling around, waving a smoky incense stick in every corner of the room.
Our mystical friend pauses, her eyes darting distrustingly from wall to wall. “I don’t like the vibe in here,” she announces. She snuffs out the flame of her incense and sinks into a chair with resignation.
Honestly, I kind of agree. I’m not quite sure what it is but something hasn’t been sitting right with me since we walked into this place. Probably doesn’t help that the bar shares a parking lot with the local cemetery.
Yeah—someone on Mayor Thompson’s town planning committee thoughtthatwould be a good idea. I swear, since that corrupt bastard took office, there’s no limit to what a big, fat bribe will buy you in this town.
In any case, none of us girls have been here since this bar opened. But tonight is a special occasion so we couldn’t just go to our usual drinking spot on a big night like this. A girl only gets one bachelorette party in her lifetime after all.
At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be.
Still, I’m not convinced that this wine bar was the right choice. And I can’t quite put my finger on why.
“Get your sexy butts over here and have a shot!” I squeal, stretching shot glasses around to all the guests.
It’s my job to make sure everyone has a good time tonight at my bestie’s party. I take that job seriously. I’m not messing around.
All of us girls throw one back. We’re packed like sardines around this rectangular table. I’m sandwiched between Emma and Nadia, with Meghan across from me between Ziggy and Davis’s mom. Well technically, Noelle is here as Cash’s mom tonight.
Meghan’s own mother sits lower down the table, chatting with Cash’s aunt, Victoria, and her daughters, Corri, Ruby, Naomi and Maya.
When a frazzled-looking Nicky bursts in, lugging a briefcase and an overnight bag—straight off the train from her corporate job in Chicago—we break into cheers, shifting around to make room for her.
“Let’s get wasted, sluts!” Nicky does a little shimmy as she drops into a chair between her cousins.
“Nicky!” Her mother hisses. “Who raised you?”
Davis’s only sister scrunches her nose tauntingly. “Um, you did, Mom…” she reminds her mother.
“Oh, right…” Noelle grumbles, shaking her head. “Carry on.”
Once we’re all buzzed on shots, we eventually start making our rounds on the flights of wine we came here for. Problem is, none of us like any of the flavors. Well, except for Noelle, who basically drinks anything.
Emma spits out the one she’s tasting, almost spraying the front of Nadia’s blouse. “This one tastes like armpits.”
“It can’t bethatbad,” Nadia grabs the glass and takes a healthy sip. Then she gags. “Oh my god. That’s worse than ball sweat.”
