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Alex: There are advantages to being a star.

Biting into a slice of pizza, I succumb to the pleasure of the flavorful mix. Knowing we’re sharing dinner, even from a distance, fills me with warmth.

Summer: Thanks.

Alex: I’m a useful friend to keep around. It’s not all about helping me pretend I’m someone else, I promise.

Summer: Can I give you a list of my favorite restaurants, friend?

Feeling feisty, I type another message.

Summer: Can you have food delivered from other cities too?

Alex: You’ll be surprised at what I can do.

Sighing, I shove the last bite of the slice in my mouth. I know I’m being ridiculous, but a man hasn’t made me feel this special in a long time, maybe ever. I’m starting to like this friend-zone thing.

Summer: I’ll send you the details about the camp as soon as I finish my pizza.

Alex: Take your time.

After I finish eating, I open my laptop, cramming all the information about the camp into one e-mail, trying very hard not to think about Alex’s kiss-worthy lips and bite-worthy biceps. And definitely not thinking about that squeeze-worthy ass.

Chapter Seven

Summer

There are several perks of being the youngest in my family. Growing up, everyone had their place in the family hierarchy. Sebastian, Logan, and Pippa were the responsible ones, always looking after all of us. Alice was next in line, and I swear she was born kicking ass. My family didn’t come from money, and until the oldest trio set up Bennett Enterprises, we were scraping by. I don’t remember those times much, because I was a kid, but my parents made sure we youngsters didn’t become spoiled brats. Guess who was the official whip cracker, bossing us into doing tasks around the house? Alice.

Christopher and Max, the first pair of twins were the official family pranksters, playing the identical twin card every chance they got. Daniel and Blake, the second pair of twins, tried to emulate Christopher and Max, but since they couldn’t dethrone the pranksters, they became troublemakers. And then there was little old me, poking my nose in everyone’s business and generally being spoiled by everyone.

I can now return the favor by spoiling my nieces and nephews. I have an entire brood to throw birthday parties for. In another life, I’d be an event planner. I love organizing events: birthday parties, bachelorette parties, weddings. It’s my thing. I’m good at it—sometimes I go overboard, but hey, no one’s perfect.

And one could say I did go overboard for Audrey’s birthday party, if the number of balloons hanging from the ceiling of my brother Sebastian’s living room is an indication. The theme is Frozen, so we have mini Olafs everywhere.

“You’ve really gone overboard,” Sebastian says, sliding an arm around my shoulders.

I elbow his ribs lightly. “I think you mean to say, ‘You’re the best sister in the world, and you’ve outdone yourself. What would I do without you?’ But you have to say it like you believe it.”

He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “I’m so lucky you can read between the lines. Thanks for organizing all this.”

“How are you?” I inquire. A few months ago, he and his wife welcomed twins, a boy and a girl. They have their hands full with them in addition to Audrey and their son Will, so they gave me free rein with the organization.

“Okay.”

I sigh. Of course he’d say that. Getting my brother to admit the truth usually requires sneaky interrogation skills and emotional blackmail. But I have an inkling I’ll wear him down faster today, what with the mayhem surrounding us.

I tilt my head. “How are you really? Okay doesn’t count. I need a full sentence. If you’re feeling generous, you can even dish out sentences, plural. I promise to reduce the nagging accordingly.”

“I’m tired. Both Ava and I are tired, but that doesn’t mean we’re not okay. We’re learning that we should have valued sleep more when we had just Will and Audrey. I’m still trying to sell Ava on having a permanent nanny.”

Right now, they have someone helping them through the day, but I can see what he means. Raising four kids while they both work? As I watch the general commotion in the room, then focus on my sister Pippa walking toward us, my wheels are spinning.

I hold up a finger. “I have an idea. I can organize a spa day at home with the girls, and we can talk her into it. We can be very persuasive.”

“And very, very full of yourself. Why do you think you can convince my wife when I can’t?”

Pippa joins us, indulging in a turkey sandwich. Between bites, she says, “Because talking to girlfriends is different. Sometimes admitting to your man that you can’t do it all on your own makes you feel like you’re not enough.”

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