Joey switched off the ignition and smoothed her oversize white linen button-down. Then she twisted slightly to examine the butt of her slashed painter jeans from her college days. Before heading inside, she wanted to be certain that the rip that had resulted when she’d contorted herself on Edith’s floor to examine the wall from a non-traditional vantage point wasn’t indecent. Having reassured herself that nothing was poking out that wasn’t supposed to be, Joey locked the Jeep and followed behind two immaculately dressed women strutting on stilettos into the club.

Joey gazed down at her sad feet clad in navy Adidas shower slides. Other than a few hiking trips she’d taken, she wasn’t one iota of sporty. Why had she let Lily talk her into this ugly trend?

Suddenly, Joey noticed a woman in a prim pink trouser suit execute an ineffective duck behind a waist-high stone garbage bin. Her teased red hair popped out atop like some exotic flower.

Was that G?

G. Definitely G. What was G doing—?

Then Joey saw her mother. And Lily. And Siya. What the…?

She saw Lily punch something into her phone, and a moment later Joey’s purse bleeped. It was a text from Grant.

Enjoy your bachelorette party! I know you didn’t want one, but Lily insisted she had maid-of-honor duties.

A bachelorette party. God. Surprise throttled her, and disappointment—no Wedding Diet Salads on the couch—but Joey managed to serve up a strong face. She crossed the lot, zombie-like in her enthusiasm.

A bachelorette party with her mother in attendance? She wondered where exactly that fell on the spectrum of fun to torture. But then the image of G drinking out of a penis straw made Joey spurt with laughter. She hadn’t wanted one of those productions, the type that threw together twenty friends from all walks of the bride’s life, each of whom paid a sizable portion of their monthly salary to attend. But maybe it would be nice to celebrate with something low-key. Chill.

And zero photos of her shower slides permitted to grace social media.

As Joey made it past the fountain in the center drive, she had a thought that made her want to run very fast in the other direction. What could she say? She was sick? She’d inadvertently dressed like a homeless swimmer?

Leo was staying at the club. Bea hadn’t seen him yet, and worse—Lily didn’t know he was in town.

*  *  *