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“I wish you’d told me that before because she’s here. At the resort. On her honeymoon.”

“Well, good for her.” Violet’s snarky, drawn out tone says loud and clear that she doesn’t think it’s actually good.

“There’s more,” I tell her hesitantly. At that, she leads forward, hungry for the distraction she asked for. “Now, don’t give me shit about this because believe me, I know how it sounds . . .”

“Ooh, this is gonna be good. I can tell,” Vi says eagerly.

“Well, it was when I first got here. Emily saw me and was bragging about her wedding and honeymoon, all the while putting me down—”

Violet interrupts to add, “She always did that, Little Miss Competitive.”

“Before I knew it . . . she thinks I’m on my honeymoon too.”

Eyes wide and mouth open, Violet stammers. “What? How? Why?” And then most importantly, “Who?”

I stick to the easier questions first. “I was standing there, and she was talking smack about my brother and younger sister getting married and how wonderful that must be, except ‘ooh, you never did find someone who would love you, did you?’ ” It might not be exactly what Emily said, but it is what she meant with her cutting remarks. “And then he just stepped out of nowhere and saved me, telling Emily that we’re on our honeymoon too. We’ve had two double dates now and she totally believes it.”

“Wait . . . so you’re on a fake honeymoon?” Violet says meaningfully. “Along with the most important job of your career?”

I nod. I won’t hide the fake honeymoon thing, not from her. I know how much it hurt being lied to when she and Ross had their thing going on. As messed up as this whole thing is, I’ll own it. Even the hard part, which she hasn’t realized yet.

“So, who is this mystery knight in shining armor?”

Whoops, spoke too soon. That’s the ten-thousand-dollar question with the million-dollar answer. “Uhm, well . . . you see . . .”

Violet can sniff blood in the water. My blood. “Who’s the guy?”

“Lorenzo.”

“What?” she screeches. Carly goes ramrod straight in her arms and returns the scream, starting to wail. Violet stands up, bouncing and swaying with the baby in one hand and the phone in the other. “My cousin, Lorenzo?” When I nod, she lays down the gauntlet. “Abigail Andrews, you’d better start explaining now.”

I expect Vi to say something to me about how I chose this time to do something or to say I’m being stupid doing this in the middle of a very important business deal, but instead, she tilts her head, confused. “Wait . . . why would he be there?”

I shake my head, shrugging. “Somehow, he got offered a short-term gig for the wedding too. He’s making fettuccine. You really didn’t know?”

Violet glares at me. “Yeah, I knew my best friend and my cousin were working on the same event, going to the same place for a week, but it somehow slipped my mind to mention it as I helped you pack your suitcase.”

Gee, dial down the sarcasm, girl.

I explain the scene in reception and how Lorenzo seemed to just appear out of nowhere and what I did. “So, yeah,” I wrap up, blushing furiously. “We had a dinner date last night and then went kayaking today too.”

“And you did all of this because of Emily?” Vi asks. “What the fudge, Abi?”

“You know, you’re cute when you don’t curse in front of your daughter even though you know she’s going to hear it ten thousand times before she turns five?”

Vi cocks an eyebrow, and I’m reminded that this woman is at least partly Italian and has a temper to match. “Abi?”

“Okay, okay,” I admit, ashamed. “Yeah. I mean, you remember how we were.”

“Of course I remember,” Violet, who also got her fair share of unwanted attention from Emily, says. “She was nearly Regina George incarnate. But my God, Abi, why would you let her get you into such a bad situation? You’re an adult now, and you only gave her more power by doing that!”

“I know, I—”

“How long have we known each other, huh?” Violet fumes, her eyes narrowing. “You’re supposed to be the strong one.”

She lets me think a second and then continues, “That being said, she’s pretty much Voldemort with a vagina, so I got your back.”

That was a good one, but I can’t even laugh right now. This is too serious. “So you’re not upset?”

Violet blinks, then grins. “Upset? I’d be a hypocrite if there ever were one. Just relax. If Lorenzo’s good with it, maybe something good will even come out of it.” I can see the light of hope burning brightly in her eyes as she lifts her perfectly shaped brows at me. Even a mess, Violet is never truly far-gone and probably had an Archie-scheduled brow wax within the last few days. “I’d love to have you in my family the way I’m in yours.”

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