I frown with confusion. “What kind of trouble?”
Sarah tilts her head to the side, biting her lower lip. “Well, uh, my tampon—”
“TMI!” I say, cutting her off and looking around fearfully, hoping no one heard what she just said. “Jesus, Sarah,” I hiss quietly, “what are you trying to do, scare our customers away?”
Sarah blushes, her cheeks turning a rosy red. “Sorry!”
I shake my head, gently grabbing her by the shoulders and guiding her toward the dining area. “Never mind that. I need your help. There’s like five tables that need to be cleaned off and wiped down, and I need a few supplies from the back.”
Sarah nods dutifully, wiping her hands on her apron and making her way over to the messy tables. “On it, Boss!”
I sigh and shake my head as I watch her nearly run into a customer on her way. A pulsing ache runs down my side as I lean against the counter for support. I really don’t know how I’m going to get through the rest of the day. The stress of running this place is getting to me lately. In fact, ever since I became the operating manager of Beangal’s Den, I’ve been overworked and tired. Sure, I’m making more money than I ever have, but I’m beginning to wonder if it’s even worth it.
I work so much now that I have no social life. The vibrant small-town girl who wouldn’t hesitate to give a wild bull a run for his money has been replaced by an old maid. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been with a guy and let him do the . . .
A buzz at my side and a Taylor Swift ringtone of We Are Never, Ever Getting Back Together interrupt my thoughts. Grumbling, I pull my cell out of my pocket and glance around the cafe to make sure things aren’t getting back out of hand before I answer it.
“Hello?”
“Mindy, my dear!” my mother’s voice greets me in a singsong tone.
I hold in a groan. I love my mom dearly, but she’s the last one I want to hear from right now. She always gives me a headache with her constant picking. “Mother,” I reply cordially.
“My God, Mindy,” she complains with a sniff, “we haven’t talked in weeks. Can you sound any unhappier to hear from me?”
I knew I shouldn’t have answered.
I try my best to keep my tone even. “Sorry, Mom. I’m just working right now. Can I call you back after my shift?”
“No,” she replies flatly. “This is important.”
I try not to sigh out loud. “Okay, Mom. You have two minutes before—”
A piercing shriek interrupts my words and I jump in surprise. I turn around to see Cassie wiping coffee off her chest at the counter. Luckily, she’d only gotten it on herself and not a customer. I swear, I don’t know what I’m going to do with this chick.
“What the hell was that?” my mom demands on the other end of the line.
I pull away from the counter, shaking my head. Then I walk around, grab a towel from a shelf, and hand it over to Cassie. “Nothing,” I reply. “Just the background noise of the cafe.”
“It sounded like a dying cat.”
Can’t argue with that.
“There was something important you wanted to tell me,” I remind her, getting back on point.
“I’m getting married next week,” my mom announces, dropping the bomb on me without warning.
My jaw drops and my heart skips a beat at her words. While I’ve been expecting this, it still feels like a shock. After the heartbreak of Dad’s sudden death during my senior year of high school, Mom swore on her grandmother’s grave that she’d never marry again . . . until she met John Wentworth, a multi-millionaire businessman.
Unfortunately, I’ve heard more about John’s status than anything else about him. During their courtship, it was almost all she talked about.
John has this, and John has that. John bought me this and John bought me that. And one of my favorites, ‘Do I need to remind you how much John is worth?’ It’s a line she likes to pull out whenever I dare question the dynamics of her relationship. I swear, I think the only reason she’s doing this is because he’s loaded.
Still, despite my misgivings on the authenticity of their relationship, now is not the time to voice my displeasure or doubts. This is her happy moment, and whether I like it or not, I need to be supportive.
“Mom, that’s wonderful!” I say in the most joyful tone I can manage.
“Isn’t it?” Mom says proudly. “It’s going to be absolutely gorgeous. He’s already rented out the venue too. A grand ballroom that sits on the shore with breathtaking views of the ocean.”
“Gee, Mom, that sounds great. I’m so happy for you!”
There’s a short pause and my mother’s voice drops a few octaves. “And I want you to come.”
I pause, glancing around the busy cafe. Cassie’s finally gotten most of the coffee off her shirt, although there is a giant stain on it, and is taking a man’s order. Meanwhile, Sarah’s busting her ass, bringing the sitting patrons their fraps. She’s looking pretty worn-out herself.
“Mom . . . I don’t know,” I say slowly, not wanting to upset her. “This is a little out of the blue. With my work schedule and all, I don’t know if . . .”
I hear her sharp intake of breath. “Are you kidding me right now, Mindy Isabella Price? I’m your mother, the most important person in your life and the one who gave birth to—”
“You’re right!” I say quickly. If I don’t head that off, I’ll be here until next week listening to her tell me how she was in labor with me for thirty-seven hours and that I owe her the universe. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course I’ll be there.”
“You need to take at least a week off,” Mom adds.
“A week—” I began to protest. Dear God, with Cassie and Sarah running things? They’ll burn the place down.
“Yes, a week! Everyone’s going to be there. Your sister, your cousin, and your aunt. Your grandmother.”
I open my mouth to argue but then shut it with a snap. It’s a fool’s errand. My mother has a head harder than granite sometimes. Shaking my head, I bite my lower lip, thinking. Damn, she drives a hard bargain.
But the more I think about taking a week off, the more I begin to like the idea. I haven’t seen my little sister, Roxy, in forever. Same for my cousin Layla, Aunt Rita, and Grandma Ivy Jo. It sure would be nice to take a break from this mess to relax and chill with the fam.
“I can do that,” I say finally, feeling more at ease. “It’ll be so good to see you and the family again.”
Heaven help Cassie and Sarah.
“It sure will,” Mom agrees. “Roxy has been asking about you non-stop.”
A grin plays across my lips as I think about my younger sister. At twenty-one, Roxy’s young, dumb, and full of fun. Basically, an even more smartassed and sassier version of myself.
But my Mom’s next words take me out of my reverie and hit me like a lightning bolt. “And I expect you to bring your fiancé.”
“My fiancé?” I ask with a croak when I can finally find my voice.
“Yes! You know, Harold. Tall. Handsome. Rich. Good in bed. The one you’ve been bragging to me about for the past year.” She lets out a little laugh. “Roxy’s been dying to meet him . . . and so have I.”
Shit, shit, shit!
I pause, the phone pressed against my ear, my mind racing in panic.
That lie. I should’ve known it would come back to bite me in the ass. I’m not one for long-term relationships, and I got sick of Mom trying to set me up with some man back at home she wanted me to meet. Knowing her, probably a son of one of John’s friends. I got tired of it, so I told her I was engaged to get her off my back.
Stupid me.
I suck in a deep breath, about to tell her the truth, but I stop. There’s no way I can admit that I was lying for the past year and show up at her wedding without a man. Absolutely no way. By now, everyone in the family has heard about my fiancé, Harold, and mom is going to be overly dramatic if I fess up now. Besides, she’s getting married. She doesn’t need to hear that I lied.