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The person usually had some clever or harsh comeback, and her brain just didn’t work that fast. This time, though, Lily wished she would have found her voice. Just for five seconds.
I hope you don’t have your sights set on either of these boys.
Smart girl. This family is not for everyone.
What he was saying, and everyone knew it, was Lily wasn’t good enough for the Dufort family.
Correction.
Andrew was saying she wasn’t good enough for Aidan.
She’d seen Aidan’s father when they got off the bus. He’d shot a dark look at his son and Lily had immediately felt uncomfortable. It was as if he knew there was something going on between them.
Had Aidan told him?
Lily had never expected anyone to say anything to them as they were hiding their holiday romance. If you could call it that.
Sex.
That’s all it was.
If Aidan had cared, he would have said something to his father.
So now she knew.
If Aidan hadn’t understood what she’d meant this morning, now he did. She didn’t belong with these people. And sadly, that included Emma now.
Their lives were drifting apart.
When she left Hawaii, she would think about all that more. Now she had to focus on being her bridesmaid and hope that the horrible man kept away from her.
Anyway, it wasn’t just her bank balance that made her feel alien among this family.
Lily had lived a sheltered life. Even her PA job only saw her travel thirty minutes from home. Unlike Emma, who had moved into the city, traveled around the country and to London and Melbourne for book conferences, Lily still went to the same grocery store, the same pharmacy, and walked the same streets as she had growing up.
Did she want more?
Honestly, she’d never thought about it. One minute she was at high school, the next she was helping her parents with their bills, and then her dad was diagnosed with cancer.
Colon cancer.
At only fifty-three.
Occasionally, when she was riding on the bus to work, Lily daydreamed about what she might do when—if—she got her teaching degree.
She imagined herself in Paris, dressed like Audrey Hepburn in a Chanel dress and hat, black pumps, and a long cigarette—well, not the cigarette—and striding through the streets swinging a beautiful handbag. Leaving the scent of Chanel no.5 behind her.
It was silly.
She always stopped there, thinking herself a fool for dreaming so big. First, the flights to France were way out of her budget and she couldn’t even afford a bottle of Chanel no.5. The closest she got was sneaking a spray when she was in the Macy’s department store when the retail assistant wasn’t looking.
Visualize and dream it. Then you will create it.
She’d seen that on a bumper sticker once.
Good one.
It wasn’t that simple, and life wasn’t made of magical Lego pieces.
