Read Online The BFF Bride by Allison Leigh - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Allison Leigh
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Tabby reasoned. “Maybe Vivian was trying to be sensitive to the fact that she’s part of the Clay family.”
Jolie tucked a runaway curl of blond hair behind her ear and pursed her lips. “Possibly. Hope and I were talking about all that over lunch. She says Squire’s more adamant than ever about having nothing to do with Vivian.
“Obviously I never knew Squire’s first wife, Sarah, since she died before I was even born. But Vivian was Sarah’s sister-in-law. I know she interfered somehow and prevented her husband from having any sort of relationship with Sarah, but that was years ago. You know that old man is all about family. And learning now that there’s a passel of them living practically under his nose ought to count for something.”
Tabby frowned. “I hadn’t heard that Squire wasn’t willing to acknowledge the family connection at all.”
Jolie waved her hand dismissively. “I wouldn’t go that far. But he’s sure got a grudge, and is dead set against meeting Vivian face-to-face. Evidently, she’s asked him several times, but he flatly refuses.”
“They all seemed okay when I was over there for Thanksgiving dinner. Of course, nobody mentioned Vivian’s name within his earshot, either. At least not while I was there.” A customer came in, and Tabby slowly twirled the display rack. There was a goldish-brown blouse she spotted that exactly matched the color of her mom’s eyes, and as soon as her mother left, she planned to get a closer look at it.
“Well, the only thing I know directly from Vivian herself is that she’s planning a formal party the weekend before Christmas,” Jolie said in a low voice. “And now I’m going to have to hurry, or I’m going to be late.” She bussed Tabby’s cheek and headed for the front door. “Let me know what night you’re bringing Justin by,” she said as she left.
Tabby’s shoulders sank. She’d almost managed to forget that particular request.
She pulled the hanger off the rack and looked at the pretty blouse. It would suit her mother very well.
But Tabby’s spurt of holiday shopping spirit had abruptly dissipated, and she replaced the hanger.
She didn’t have to examine the reason why.
Justin.
* * *
The office space his aunt was able to allot for him at the hospital lab was considerably smaller than what he was used to, but Justin didn’t care. He had room for all materials he had to go through, a safe to lock them in and a lock on the door. Not that he was particularly worried about industrial espionage. Not in Weaver.
But he knew stranger things had happened.
So when he finally left the office late that Monday night, he packed up his laptop to take with him, closed the research logs in the safe and locked the door behind him.
“Finally heading out?” Scott Brown, the only lab tech on duty that night, barely glanced up from his microscope.
“Yeah.” Justin slid his laptop into his messenger bag and slung the strap over his shoulder. He didn’t know much else about the technician besides the guy’s name. “When do you get off?”
“Two o’clock in the morning.” Scott replaced the slide he was studying with another. He looked about Justin’s age. Maybe a few years older. “Hate the swing shift, but I like the extra pay that comes with it.” He tapped his foot on the metal rung of his high stool to the beat of the country music coming from a radio sitting on one of the steel shelves lining the walls. Walls that would be opened up soon, effectively tripling the current space.
Justin stopped at the locked door that controlled access to the lab and signed out. “You’re not originally from around here, are you?”
“Braden.”
Weaver’s nearest neighbor. A good thirty miles away. It wasn’t as if there were any handy public transportation methods around. No subway. No commuter train. And maybe the drive wouldn’t be considered that much of a commute to some, but it was only a two-lane highway that got you there
Jolie tucked a runaway curl of blond hair behind her ear and pursed her lips. “Possibly. Hope and I were talking about all that over lunch. She says Squire’s more adamant than ever about having nothing to do with Vivian.
“Obviously I never knew Squire’s first wife, Sarah, since she died before I was even born. But Vivian was Sarah’s sister-in-law. I know she interfered somehow and prevented her husband from having any sort of relationship with Sarah, but that was years ago. You know that old man is all about family. And learning now that there’s a passel of them living practically under his nose ought to count for something.”
Tabby frowned. “I hadn’t heard that Squire wasn’t willing to acknowledge the family connection at all.”
Jolie waved her hand dismissively. “I wouldn’t go that far. But he’s sure got a grudge, and is dead set against meeting Vivian face-to-face. Evidently, she’s asked him several times, but he flatly refuses.”
“They all seemed okay when I was over there for Thanksgiving dinner. Of course, nobody mentioned Vivian’s name within his earshot, either. At least not while I was there.” A customer came in, and Tabby slowly twirled the display rack. There was a goldish-brown blouse she spotted that exactly matched the color of her mom’s eyes, and as soon as her mother left, she planned to get a closer look at it.
“Well, the only thing I know directly from Vivian herself is that she’s planning a formal party the weekend before Christmas,” Jolie said in a low voice. “And now I’m going to have to hurry, or I’m going to be late.” She bussed Tabby’s cheek and headed for the front door. “Let me know what night you’re bringing Justin by,” she said as she left.
Tabby’s shoulders sank. She’d almost managed to forget that particular request.
She pulled the hanger off the rack and looked at the pretty blouse. It would suit her mother very well.
But Tabby’s spurt of holiday shopping spirit had abruptly dissipated, and she replaced the hanger.
She didn’t have to examine the reason why.
Justin.
* * *
The office space his aunt was able to allot for him at the hospital lab was considerably smaller than what he was used to, but Justin didn’t care. He had room for all materials he had to go through, a safe to lock them in and a lock on the door. Not that he was particularly worried about industrial espionage. Not in Weaver.
But he knew stranger things had happened.
So when he finally left the office late that Monday night, he packed up his laptop to take with him, closed the research logs in the safe and locked the door behind him.
“Finally heading out?” Scott Brown, the only lab tech on duty that night, barely glanced up from his microscope.
“Yeah.” Justin slid his laptop into his messenger bag and slung the strap over his shoulder. He didn’t know much else about the technician besides the guy’s name. “When do you get off?”
“Two o’clock in the morning.” Scott replaced the slide he was studying with another. He looked about Justin’s age. Maybe a few years older. “Hate the swing shift, but I like the extra pay that comes with it.” He tapped his foot on the metal rung of his high stool to the beat of the country music coming from a radio sitting on one of the steel shelves lining the walls. Walls that would be opened up soon, effectively tripling the current space.
Justin stopped at the locked door that controlled access to the lab and signed out. “You’re not originally from around here, are you?”
“Braden.”
Weaver’s nearest neighbor. A good thirty miles away. It wasn’t as if there were any handy public transportation methods around. No subway. No commuter train. And maybe the drive wouldn’t be considered that much of a commute to some, but it was only a two-lane highway that got you there
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