“Nice. You should take pictures and send them to me.”

“I will. But before I forget, you are coming tomorrow night, aren’t you?”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Sunday family dinner. Justine, you have to. We’re going to be talking about Mallory’s wedding.”

“So Angela will be there?”

“Yes. Angela, Scott, Mallory, and of course, Ted. But we won’t talk wedding details in front of him. It never helps for the fiancé to know too much about the bride’s secrets.” Her mother tittered.

Justine didn’t find anything funny about the thought of her sister’s flirty husband-to-be. But she wanted to be supportive. She loved her sisters, even if she sometimes didn’t like them all that much. Then again, who was she to judge? Nearly thirty, no husband, no children, and a dead-end job working for a dickhead. Oh, and no home either, since she’d moved out of her place with Mitch.

Great. Now she’d depressed herself. Time for more marshmallows.

“Justine?”

“Of course I wouldn’t miss a chance to talk about Mallory’s wedding.” Justine paused. “But this had better not be an attempt to set me up again, Mom. I mean it. If I see one guy at dinner I don’t know, I’m leaving.”

“Now, Justine. I’ve learned my lesson. It’s just family and wedding chatter. I promise. Six o’clock sharp, honey. Don’t be late.”

Justine imagined her mother crossing her fingers behind her back but ignored her better sense. Despite their nonsense, she missed her family. “I’ll see you then.”

“Perfect. Now let me tell you about the people at this party. I’ve got dirt on all of them.”

Not caring but kind of—maybe a little bit—interested in someone’s life that seemed to be on track, she encouraged her mother by asking, “Who’s the worst of the worst?”

“Oh, that would be Kathy with a K, who’s sleeping with Cathy with a C’s husband.”

“Well, at least he can keep his women straight. Same name.”

“That’s what I said!” Her mom laughed, and something inside Justine eased.

She might not have the perfect life, but she did have people who cared about her. Life could be a lot worse.

CHAPTER 5

A lot worse. Worse than a dinner spent talking to one’s sister about a wedding one loathed the idea of attending. Worse than agreeing to dress in a clingy bridesmaid gown on the big day that would show way too much boobage. Worse even than having to sit across from Ted during dinner while he leered when no one was looking, still acting like an attentive and loving fiancé while one’s sister simpered over him.

Ugh.

Justine glared at her mother, who pretended not to see her glaring, and stewed because she knew better yet had still accepted her mother’s invitation.

Sitting between bachelor number one and bachelor number two, two of her father’s up and comers at Ferrera-Hind Wealth Management, she tried to relax, telling herself her mother had promised not to try to set her up. Was she reading too much into this dinner?