Page 39 of Bridesmaid Undercover
A lecture from my sister who never lets anything go.
On an irritated huff, Ember takes me by the arm and marches me over into a corner of the lobby, blocking me from our surroundings. Leaning in, she yell-whispers, “You’re carrying around a token from him? Jesus, Everly, might as well be a candle from the way you worship this man.”
“I don’t worship him,” I say, though I feel like there might be some validity to her statement. Which, if I think about it, means I’m pushing past pathetic to utterly humiliating. I don’t think I’ve ever been this far gone over a man…ever.
“I can see it in your eyes—you were thinking about him just now, weren’t you?” Ember says with an accusatory finger.
“No, I wasn’t.” I roll my eyes.
“Yes, you were.”
“No, I wasn’t,” I reply defiantly.
“Then what were you thinking about?” She places her hands on her hips.
Uh…yeah, Everly, what were you thinking about?
“Uh…well…if you must know…” I pause, giving myself time to come up with something, anything, but my mind goes blank, so I say the first thing that rolls off my tongue. “I was thinking about pitchforks.”
“Pitchforks,” she deadpans.
“Yes,” I answer. “Pitchforks.”
“And why were you thinking about pitchforks?”
Nosy much? Sheesh.
“Because I heard a story about a ranch hand getting poked in the butt by one, so, yeah, I was thinking about that.” She doesn’tneed to know said story was told to me by the charming offender in question.
She narrows her eyes. “And where would you hear such a story?”
This is why you should never have an older sister: because nothing gets by them, nothing. They’re too smart, too inquisitive, and too much in your business.
“From…you know, the place that tells pitchfork stories.”
“And what place is that?” she asks.
“Errr…” I look to the side and mumble, “TikTok.”
“Ah, so if I went onto TikTok right now and looked uppitchfork to the ass, it would come up? Obviously, it would have to because how else would you have come across it if it wasn’t a viral video?”
With every sentence she says, she gets increasingly annoying.
“Yes,” I say with full confidence.
“Okay,” she says as she brings her phone out of her purse and pulls up TikTok. As she types, she says, “Pitchfork to the butt.” Her lips twist to the side as she searches, and searches, and when nothing comes up, she says, “Hmm, that’s so weird, I don’t see any videos that deal with a pitchfork poking the butt. Makes me think that you were lying and instead of thinking about pitchforks, you were actually thinking about something else, or better yet…someoneelse.”
I roll my eyes and sarcastically laugh. “Oh, how little you know about me.”
“Everly,” she snaps, causing my innards to shrivel.
“Fine,” I say. “I was thinking about Hardy, okay? We’ve been exchanging emails, and he’s been so funny and sweet, and then he sent me this token—and I know what you’re thinking, he’s being nice because I’m helping him, and I’m sure that’s the case, but it doesn’t stop me from daydreaming and thinking abouthim and wondering what it would be like if he wasn’t after his ex but instead interested in a woman like me.”
Ember pinches the bridge of her nose as she takes a deep breath. “Everly, this is…this is embarrassing.”
“I know,” I groan. “I know, I don’t need the reminder. I see how pathetic I am. I look in the mirror and I point at myself, and I say,pathetic. You are a pathetic woman.But that doesn’t stop me from thinking about him, about what could be.” I lean in close and whisper, “I need help, Ember. I need you to slap me out of this.” I tap my cheek. “Go ahead, slap me, right here. Give me a good knock back into reality.” I tap my cheek again.
She stares at me with an unamused expression. “As tempting as that is, I’m not going to hit my sister, nor do I think that will work. What you need is a distraction, and we have the perfect one for you. One that will be here any second, so do you think you can forget about the freaking game token, push aside thoughts of an untouchable man, and focus on a person who is interested in meeting you?”
