“Come on, baby Fay,” she says with a smile. “Let’s go have a drink.”
I shrug, not hating the idea, and let Fiona help me out of the wedding gown. After I change, I follow her through the kitchen and out into a beautiful little garden I didn’t know was here.
“Oh wow,” I say, looking around. “It’s beautiful out here.”
It really is. There’s a full grill and wet bar pressed up against the house. Next to it is a stone patio with a hand-carved wooden table covered by a tall pergola that has grape vines curling all around it. The whole area is surrounded by tall hedges, keeping out prying eyes.
Fiona bends down to remove a bottle of wine from the fridge and pops it open, filling two delicate glasses that she takes down from the rack above the sink. I sit down at the table as she brings the glasses over.
“This is Kent’s latest vintage,” she says as I raise the glass to my lips. The wine is dry, but I feel a little bit of bubble against my lips as I sip.
It’s delicious. As I peer at it in the glass, I suddenly realize something. “Wait, has Kent been the one sending the clothes up to my room? The ones I wear everyday?”
Fiona shrugs. “Probably. He has my wardrobe restocked every couple of months, so he definitely has the stores on call.”
I stare at the door, then, a little appalled to realize that Kent has made me his little Barbie doll, dressing me up so that I look just the way he wants me to.
But behind my disgust at the idea, a very little bit of me…likes it.
“It’s so nice to have a chance to sit with you one-on-one,” Fiona says, interrupting my thoughts. “You know, have a little girl talk.”
I smile at her. “Yes, I agree. I used to do this all the time with my sister.”
“Aww,” Fiona says, giving me a warm smile. You can consider me your sister now, if you want.”
I smile at her and nod.
“So!” she says, leaning forward. “How are things going with you and Daniel?”
I press my lips together. I definitely can’t tell her the truth – I promised Daniel I wouldn’t – but, frankly, I’m dying for someone to talk to.
She leans in. “Don’t be shy,” she says. “You can trust me.”
“Well,” I say, hesitating. “I mean, I really like Daniel a lot – but, I’m just not sure we’re meant to be. Romantically.”
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