But it was partly because of him that she had her career—a career she loved at the end of the day, in spite of the pettiness and sexism of her bosses. If she lost her job, she’d be forced to start from the beginning and probably in some other city. Neil’s practice was in Kansas City, and he’d already let her know he loved his position and had no intention of moving if another opportunity ever came her way. She was stuck.
Neil’s mother, Debra, had picked a hole-in-the-wall barbeque joint on the Kansas side of the city. Someplace Blair would feel totally out of place in with her business attire. She considered going home to change, but there wasn’t time with rush hour traffic, and besides, this was who she was. Take it or leave it. She was already trying to placate her bosses. There was only so much supplication Blair was capable of in a month, let alone a single day. But she was sure to get an earful of disapproval from Neil’s mother. For a woman who sold Tupperware and lived in a double-wide trailer, she was one of the most judgmental women Blair had ever known, and she’d made no secret of the fact she didn’t approve of Blair’s career. Blair would love nothing more than to tell her off, but she didn’t want to make things awkward for Neil. He was caught in the middle enough as it was, what with all the back-and-forth about the wedding arrangements. As an afterthought, she pulled the pins out of her hair and let it tumble down her back. It would definitely be hotter, but she could suffer through some discomfort to appease Debra. Besides, she was already plotting when to execute her headache excuse.
Five minutes after six, she pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and was blasted by a wave of hot, humid air as she opened the car door, adding to her irritation. Neil’s parents had insisted the rehearsal dinner on Friday night take place in the outdoor seating area of a local restaurant. She was going to miss her own wedding due to dehydration from profuse sweating.
Neil and his parents were already seated at a rectangular table when she walked into the room. It was hard not to feel annoyed at the irritated glance Neil gave her as she approached the table.
“There you are. I told you six sharp.”
He was being shorter with her than usual, which only added to her brewing annoyance, but she knew he must have caught an earful from his mother. “I’ve had the day from hell. Then I hit rush hour traffic.”
Neil’s mother pursed her lips in disapproval. “Language.” The woman held a small plastic piggy bank shaped like a cat, with the words “Curse Kitty” handwritten on a piece of copy paper and attached with mailing tape. Coins rattled as she shook the container. “That will be one dollar.”
Blair put a hand on her hip and cocked her head. “What the hell is that?”
Debra’s eyes narrowed. “Now it’s two.”
Now Neil’s expression morphed into an apologetic cringe. His eyes pleaded with her to not flip out. “Mom knows your tendency to swear, and she’s bound and determined to make the wedding as stress-free as possible, so she’s created a swear jar. She plans to carry it around all weekend.”
Blair wanted to point out that it was her wedding and curse words relieved her stress, but she decided to focus instead on the one point she had a chance of winning. “I only cursed once. My first usage of the word hell was in relation to the location.”
Debra shook the jar, making the coins clink. “Now it’s three.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. What am I supposed to call the place where Satan and all his minions reside?” Blair turned to Neil’s stoically quiet father. He was studying his menu with an intensity that suggested he’d be given a quiz later.
Debra cringed. “I wish you wouldn’t use his name, dear.”
“Satan?” Blair asked in disbelief. “Is he like Lord Voldemort? Should we only refer to him as ‘you know who’?”
Debra pursed her lips, deep in thought. “I don’t know who this Lord Voldemort is, but that’s a great idea.”
Blair started to tell her that she was being ridiculous, but it was a pointless endeavor. Debra Fredrick was too simple-minded and stubborn for a fair argument. “Never mind.” She dug out her wallet and pulled out three ones and stuffed them into the jar.
“Is this some new wedding shower game?” a male voice asked from behind her. “Or have you resorted to panhandling, Aunt Debra? I saw a great corner in downtown Kansas City if you’re interested. The homeless guy who sleeps there looked like he’d share his spot and his bottle of booze.”
Neil’s mother gasped and clutched her chest again, looking like she was about to have a heart attack, while Neil’s father tried to hide his laughter. It was about the liveliest she’d ever seen him, but she couldn’t focus on his transformation because she recognized that voice.
Blair spun around in horror. No. It couldn’t be . . .
But it was. Standing in front of her was Garrett Lowry.
How was the only word that found its way into her brain. Too dumbfounded to say anything, she simply gaped at him.
The only thing that made her feel better was that the look on her ex-boyfriend’s face undoubtedly matched her own.
“I’m glad you regret making such a crass joke,” Debra finally said, mistaking his dismay.
“So you really showed up.” Neil turned in his seat and glared at Garrett. “That took balls.”
“Neil!” Debra said. “A dollar!”
Neil shook his head as he dug a bill out of his wallet.