Slightly Engaged
I love weddings!
Doesn't everyone?
Um, apparently not. "Cripes, Tracey, I can't believe this is how we're spending the last Saturday of the summer."
That's my live-in boyfriend, Jack, grumbling as he gazes bleakly through the windshield of our rented sub-compact car at the holiday-traffic-clogged Jersey Turn-pike. The midday sun is glaring overhead and heat radiates in waves off the asphalt, along with toxic black exhaust fumes.
Thank God for air-conditioning. I adjust the full-blast passenger's-side vent to blow in the vicinity of my navel, lest it muss my fancy upswept do.
It took me almost an hour and a half a can of Aussie Freeze Spray to get my straight, bra-clasp-length brown hair looking this supermodelish. It'll probably wilt the second I get out of the car, but at least Jack got to appreciate it. He was momentarily complimentary about my hair and my slinky red cocktail dress before he went back to grousing about the wedding.
It shouldn't bug me that he didn't mention anything about how I was wearing a similar red dress the night we met.
It shouldn't, but it does.
I can't help it. For ... read full excerpt from: Slightly Engaged ebook