Page 13 of A Really Bad Idea

He laughs and swings an arm around my shoulders. “Always keep an open mind and an open heart, Meadow. And your eyes focused.”

I’m not blind. Christian is gorgeous and smart and all the things a woman wants in a man. Except available. He’s married to his career, and I spent six years of my life married to someone else. Our views on commitment are skewed.

“I could never risk the friendship,” I say honestly.

“You know your mother and I were friends before we were lovers.”

Despite being a grown woman who well knows of my creation, I cringe at my father’s use of the word lovers.

He laughs, deep and burly, and releases me. “On that note, I’m going to go save our guests from my lover before she talks their ears off. That woman sure does love to command an audience.” Dad kisses my cheek and walks off.

I’m looking back in Christian’s direction. He must feel my stare because he looks my way and then raises his chin with his eyes looking to a place beside me.

I follow his gaze to see Aaron Vaducci, Bachelor Number Three, standing by the barbecue. I widen my eyes at Christian, but he’s now nudging his chin over toward Aaron, insinuating that I talk to him.

After the talk we just had, I decide to pull my big-girl panties on and give the afternoon a chance.

Of the three sons my mother arranged for me to spend time with today, Aaron is the easiest to talk to. He’s also quite handsome with curly brown hair, hazel eyes, and an easy smile. He’s a dentist, and according to my mother, he’s recently single, so I’d “better snatch him up before someone else does.”

We talk for a few minutes before Christian comes over to say his good-byes, heading back to the hospital, and Aaron and I continue to talk about restaurants, work, and politics, which doesn’t get awkward—thankfully. Then, we head inside together when dinner is served and continue with light conversation through the evening.

I joke with Christian’s mom, Lucille Gallagher, and catch up with the Romanos. I listen to my mother’s lively stories about her friends in Boca and even play a game of horseshoes with Dylan and Aiden.

When Brian lights the firepit to make s’mores, Aaron lets me show him how to toast the perfect marshmallow because, apparently, he doesn’t know how to make his not look like a charred rock of sugar. All in all, it turns out to be a good party, and I have a really nice time.

It’s probably why, an hour after all the guests have left, Beth looks confused when she sees me sitting on the floor of her hundred-square-foot shoe closet.

“I’m impressed you squeezed your feet into those.” She motions toward the Manolo Blahniks that are hanging from my feet.

I hold a foot up, so she can see my heel is on the outside of the shoe.

“I feel like Anastasia and Drizella when they try on the glass slipper.” I flick a toe, and one of the heels falls to the floor. “Always a stepsister, never a princess.”

“Aren’t you extra melodramatic tonight?” She takes a seat beside me on the plush carpet. Beth has been my sister-in-law for twelve years, which makes her the only sister I’ve ever known. “Aaron was certainly smitten with you.”

“He was not.”

With a look that says she doesn’t believe my modesty, she replies, “The man was everywhere you were and even pretended he couldn’t roast a marshmallow just so you could teach him something.”

“I did find it peculiar that he was so inept in the art of placing a piece of sugary goodness over a fire.”

Beth stretches out her legs. “You should call him.”

Aaron gave me his number before he left, and while he’s absolutely worthy of a date, I didn’t feel that spark with him. If I went out with him, it would only be because of this push to find someone when I’m just not ready. That’s unfair to him and to myself.

I lightly bang my head against the shelf behind me, probably hitting a pair of thousand-dollar heels.

“Do you think I’m broken?” I ask.

She lets out a small sigh. “Damaged, yes. Broken, no.”

“Brian barely talks to me.”

“He hardly speaks to anyone.”

“My mom—”

“Means well.” Beth sighs. “You’ve gotta cut her some slack.”