Fated to be Mine Read Free

bang her. Then I saw her slippers and decided not to tap that after all.”
    I laugh and shove at her. “As if I’m going to go for the pizza delivery guy anyway. I need to find someone with a slightly more stable job and isn’t sixteen and covered in acne.”
    She laughs and takes another sip of her wine. “Okay, very true.” She pauses, seeming to consider her next statement carefully. “I still think Andrew is head over heels for you. There must have been a misunderstanding. There is absolutely no way he is going to turn down a hot piece of ass like you.”
    The spot above my heart begins to ache again as I try to rub the pain away. “Yeah, you’ve told me how hot I am in my current attire. Can’t imagine him not wanting this. Besides, didn’t you say this was a No Boys Allowed zone? No more talking about guys or London or events that happened over there.”
    Her face softens, placing a sympathetic hand on my knee. “You’re right. Tonight is about funny women, wine, and pressing slow motion while Ryan gets naked. Then rewinding and doing it all over again.”
    I nod and clink my wine glass to hers. “I’ll drink to that.”
    And then our scene comes on, and for the next twenty minutes we appreciate the fine male specimen on the TV in slow motion, still frame and reluctantly in regular motion to finish the movie.

I T’S FINALLY HERE, SUNDAY NIGHT . I was hoping to maybe contract a sudden case of the flu, or maybe even the bubonic plague. Anything to get out of this dinner tonight with my father and Sharon. I can think of hundreds of things I’d rather do, including letting my heart bleed open and think about Andrew. But no, I’ll play the part of the good daughter, imagining my father actually cares about me, and will engage in uncomfortable conversation for the next two hours.
    I pass the sign welcoming me to Lilydale and instantly I want to turn around and go back downtown. My crappy car and less than designer clothes make me feel almost homeless just driving through the streets. Large mansion-like houses surround me, telling everyone just how well off they are. I am definitely out of my league here.
    And yet, I pull into the circular drive of my father’s house and park my car, thankful I arrived in one piece, and on time. My nerves get the best of me as I walk to the front door, constantly tucking and re-tucking strands of hair behind my ear. As soon as I see the bright smiling face of the only friendly person in the house I instantly relax.
    “Hello, Ms. Martin. How are you this evening?” Miriam says as she pulls me into a hug. I squeeze her back, thankful to see her. She’s an older woman in her mid-sixties and reminds me of Betty White in her Golden Girls days. She has the same overly fluffed hair but in a shade of graying red instead of blond. She’s a little round in the middle and slightly shorter than me. But her smiling face and cheery personality reminds me of my grandma and she treats me just like she used to.
    “Miriam, I told you to call me Tess. You know I’m not like my dad and Sharon.”
    She reaches up to cup my cheek, her eyes glassing over a bit with emotions. Miriam has worked with my father for the past ten years. I was fortunate to really get to know her during the few months I lived here and thankful she was my saving grace from a life of depression and isolation.
    “Of course, my dear. Come, come, in you go before you catch your death out there. You’re not properly dressed for this weather, child.” She takes my light jacket and hangs it up in the hall closet. Sitting on the bench, I slide my boots off, making sure to tuck them underneath so they don’t get in the way. Also, so Sharon doesn’t see them and starts to cast her judgment on my shoe choices.
    “How has Colin been?” I ask. Colin Rafferty is Miriam’s husband of the past forty-plus years. I’ve met him on a few occasions and he’s just like her, a sweet little Irish man with a generous heart to