Page 193 of Bridesmaid By Chance
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t I tell you I was in London?” I ask, just wanting to make sure we’re on the same page.
“Yeah, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Um, honestly, it all happened so fast. One minute I’m taking notes at a meeting and the next I’m signed up to be a bridesmaid in a Regency wedding.”
“Regency?” he asks.
“Yeah, you know, like the olden times. I have to wear a corset, and I needed to learn dances. It was a whole thing. Anywho, yup, I’m in London.”
“You still didn’t answer my question: Why didn’t you tell me?”
Because I was caught up in getting married.
Because I was afraid you would find out.
Because I’m terrified that the man I’ve been crushing on for a long time is the man who is currently breaking my heart.
“Because do I really need to tell you everything?” I ask. “You’re married now, Jude.”
“Just because I’m married, doesn’t mean you should stop including me in your life. Stacey wouldn’t even answer me, and when I went by the house the other day, I saw the trash and it looks like you’re doing renovations. Renovations, Sloane.” Crap. Forgot about that. “You know what my business is? Why would my sisters be conducting renovations without me? Without consulting? What are you two hiding?”
“We aren’t hiding anything.”
“Uh-huh, and why are you taking on a bridesmaid job? Is Hudson not paying you sufficiently? Because last I heard you were getting a decent salary.”
Christ, this is why having a nosy and protective older brother is incredibly hard. You can’t hide anything from him—at least not for long.
“What’s going on, Sloane?”
“Nothing is going on,” I say, remaining calm. “We’re just doing some things around the house.”
“What did I tell you about that? We made some changes when we were living there to make it homier, but we didn’t invest a lot of money into it because it’s not our house. If you’re taking on another job to pay for whatever you’re doing, that’s just fucking stupid.”
“It’s not stupid?—”
“It’s a waste of your money. If you want to do renovations, then buy a place of your own.”
“Jude, listen, it’s?—”
“I thought we talked about this,” he continues, irritating me because it seems like he’s having a hard time listening at the moment. “I know thathouse means a lot to us, but just because we had good memories there, doesn’t mean we need to sink our hard-earned money into it.”
“Jude, we aren’t?—”
“I just don’t understand why you didn’t talk to me about this. Taking on another job to renovate a house you don’t own? That’s not making smart choices, Sloane. You and Stacey know better than that. At least I thought I taught you better than that.”
I don’t know what comes over me.
Blame it on the emotions of not being able to connect with Hudson.
Or getting lectured by my older brother over something he has no idea about.
But I find myself blurting out a truth that I wasn’t supposed to blurt out.
“We’re not being stupid,” I say. “We own the house.”
The moment the words fall out of my mouth, I know it’s a mistake because the phone practically goes dead as my brother processes this new information.
