Wedding Party Collection: Always The Bachelor. Barbara Hannay
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СКАЧАТЬ from The Modern Woman’s Guide to Divorce (And the Joy of Staying Single)

      Ivy sat outside on the private balcony of her bedroom, at the cute little wrought-iron patio set, reading the novel she’d started on the plane. The sun felt warm on her skin, and a damp, salty ocean breeze flipped the ends of her ponytail.

      What better place to relax? To kick back and put her feet up? Yet she was so tense she’d read the same paragraph half a dozen times and still had no idea what it said.

      She marked her page and set the book down, rubbing at the beginnings of a headache in her temples. This was supposed to be a vacation. It was supposed to be fun.

      She heard her bedroom door open, and her cousin called to her. “Are you in here?”

      Ivy looked at her watch. It had taken Deidre a full hour to work up the courage to face her again.

      “I’m out here,” she said.

      Several seconds passed, then she heard Deidre behind her. “Are you mad at me?”

      Mad?

      Mad didn’t scratch the surface of what she was feeling. She felt hurt and betrayed and humiliated. They were supposed to be best friends. The sister neither had ever had.

      A team.

      How could Deidre pull a stunt like this? How could she lie by omission?

      She turned to her cousin. Deidre stood in the bedroom doorway wringing the color from her hands, looking like the poster girl for guilt and remorse.

      She’d been a nervous wreck for weeks, sure that at any moment Blake would come to his senses and finally accept the truth. Deidre, with a family history of obesity and bad skin, would never be a supermodel. Then he would undoubtedly start listening when his parents and brothers assured him that, for all his money and family connections, he could do much better.

      Deidre also had what looked like a smear of chocolate in the corner of her mouth. Just that morning Ivy had confiscated a six-pack of chocolate bars and a half-empty box of Ding Dongs from Deidre’s bedroom. She didn’t want to venture a guess as to how much weight Deidre had gained back in the last month or so, but a few more pounds and she would look like an overstuffed sausage in her ten-thousand-dollar designer wedding gown. Even worse was the random acne that had begun to spring up on her chin. Which of course only made her more upset, and more likely to stuff her face with junk.

      She’d been a neurotic mess for weeks. Still, that didn’t excuse what she had done.

      Ivy concentrated on keeping her voice calm and rational. “How could you do this to me?”

      “I’m so sorry. But I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t have come. Without you as my maid of honor, it would ruin everything.”

      Deidre was one of those women who had begun planning her wedding the instant she left the womb. She’d accumulated a ceiling-high stockpile of bridal magazines and catalogs by the fifth grade.

      After a few miserably failed false starts, she had finally snagged Mr. Right. Ivy got the feeling Deidre saw this as her last chance and that, if everything didn’t go exactly as planned, she was destined to spend the rest of her life alone and childless and die a bitter spinster.

      “I told you the best man was a buddy from college, and you knew he and Blake went to school together.”

      Ivy knew they had shared an apartment at Harvard, until Dillon had been expelled, that is, but she hadn’t known they were that close. Her and Dillon’s quickie Vegas wedding had been too last-minute for a best man or maid of honor.

      Or a cake.

      Or even a wedding dress.

      It had been more of a we’ll show them when their parents had tried to interfere in their relationship. Proving that not only is love blind, it’s downright idiotic.

      The sad truth is, she and Dillon had barely known each other when they’d gotten married. Out of bed, anyway. Only after their vows had she realized her mistake.

      The day after.

      “I know you probably won’t believe this,” Deidre said, “but Dillon has changed.”

      “You’re right. I don’t believe it.” Men like Dillon never changed. Not deep down, where it counted.

      “May be it’s time you…” Deidre paused, her lip clamped between her teeth again.

      “It’s time I what?”

      She shrugged. “May be…get past it.”

      “Get past what?”

      “What I mean is, May be it’s time you…forgive him.”

      Forgive him?

      Was Deidre joking? Had the wedding jitters short-circuited her brain? Had she forgotten what Dillon had put her through?

      Did a woman ever get past having her heart stomped on and filleted into a million pieces? Did she forget losing an academic grant, being tossed out of college and having her reputation decimated?

      And how did you forgive someone who showed no remorse? Someone who sat back and watched with a smile on his face while her world fell apart? A man who had promised to love and honor her until death? “What Dillon did to me was unforgivable and you know it.”

      Deidre lowered herself into the chair beside Ivy’s, a look of genuine concern on her face. “I just hate to see you so unhappy.”

      Her words nearly knocked Ivy out of her chair. “What are you talking about? My book is selling millions, my private practice is flourishing. Why in the world would I be unhappy?”

      “You’re the psychologist. You tell me.”

      Ivy had everything she’d ever dreamed of. A good career and an impressive stock portfolio. Personal and financial independence.

      She was not unhappy. In fact, she was freaking ecstatic. “For your information, I am very happy with my life.”

      “When was the last time you were in a committed relationship? When was the last time you had sex? Hell, when was the last time you were on a date?”

      “I don’t need a man to complete me.” The words spilled from her mouth automatically. It was her mantra, the basis for her book. The only constant in her life.

      “May be not, but they sure can be fun to have around.”

      And so not worth the hassle. She had her career and her friends. That was enough. For now. “Setting me up like this has put me in a terrible position. Considering all the people who will be at the wedding Saturday, it’s bound to get out that I spent a week in Mexico with my ex. You know how brutal the media can be. What if they start spreading rumors that we’re getting back together? What do you think that will do to my reputation?”

      “I guess I never thought about it like that.” Deidre’s lower lip began to quiver and tears hovered just inside her eyelids. “I was only trying to help. If you want to leave, I understand.”

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