Read Online The Wedding Party by Robyn Carr - Free Book Online Page A

women?”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t I be serious? How much older can you be?” he countered.
    The elevator arrived and they stepped inside.
    â€œI could be a lot older, Ray. I could be your mother!”
    â€œCome on,” he said, brushing her off.
    â€œHow old are you? ” she demanded, feeling a blush rise up her neck.
    â€œNow, if I’d asked you that question, I bet you’d get all piss—All bent out of shape,” he said, correcting himself. “I’m almost twenty-eight.”
    â€œI could be your much older sister,” she said. “I’m almost forty.”
    â€œOh yeah?” he said, looking pleased with himself. “How almost? ”
    â€œThirty-nine and three quarters.”
    â€œNo shit. I mean, no kidding!”
    â€œHow ‘almost twenty-eight’ are you?”
    â€œTwenty-five,” he said. He grinned devilishly. Handsomely. “I took you for about thirty.”
    â€œRay.” She laughed at him. “You’re a terrible liar.”
    â€œOkay, thirty-one. No more than thirty-three, tops. So, about that drink—”
    The elevator deposited them on the main floor and they stepped out onto the marble floor of the foyer. “You really have made my day,” she said with laughter in her voice. She couldn’t wait for her father to next ask about prospects. “But I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly have a drink with you.”
    â€œYou’re involved,” he said. It was not a question, and it reeked of disappointment.
    â€œRay, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be right for each other.” She stopped at the glass revolving door.
    â€œI’m mature for my age.”
    â€œMe too,” she said.
    â€œI get done here at about ten. You should be finished working out by then.”
    â€œGood night, Ray,” she said. She took her bag and briefcase from him and went through the revolving doors.
    He followed her. “I’m going to change clothes, drive over to the Plum Tree—they have good Chinese and a nice, quiet little bar. Very cozy neighborhood place. Not too loud.”
    â€œI’m going to work out, then I’m going home,”she said, heading for the parking lot. “To tuck in my dog and walk my father.”
    â€œOh man, you’re making it very tough, Ms. London,” he said from the glass doors. “I don’t know how to compete with a dog and a father. Play fair.”
    She threw her head back and laughed again. “You are very flattering. Have a nice evening.”
    â€œYou’re breaking my heart!”
    She shook her head. Nice joke, she thought. The kid doesn’t know from broken hearts. She unlocked her car, threw all her stuff in ahead of her and got in. She turned on the engine and the lights, then looked one more time toward the office building. He stood there, watching her go. Tall, handsome, young. Young. As she pulled out of the lot, the face in the rearview mirror grinned stupidly back at her. “Oh, for God’s sake!” she snapped at herself. “Don’t even think about it!”
    Â 
    Dennis could hear the commotion of happy family life as he stood at the front door of his sister Gwen’s house. He didn’t hurry to ring the bell, just listened for a moment. Gwen was forty now and had had her children in her thirties—Richie, when she was thirty-one and Jessica, when she was thirty-three. They were at a great age right now—lots of fun and not much work. They didn’t have to be bathed anymore, and they were too young to drive. But this was not a quiet or calm age. He could hear the choppy piano practice in which Jessica was engaged and a steady thumping coming from somewhere inside the house.
    â€œRichie! That basketball is for outside!”
    The steady thumping would be his nephew, bouncing the ball against a wall.
    â€œI’m keeping time for Jessica,” he yelled.
    A living-room