“You might love them, but you definitely do not eat them all the time. You eat peanut butter M&M’s all the time, or plain. Occasionally pretzel. Never caramel because, gross. But you only choose peanut when something’s going on in your head.”
I stare at her like she has five heads as I realize that holy fuck, she’s right. How is it possible she knows this about me when I’ve never figured it out for myself?
Julie smirks at me, one eyebrow raised. “What? You think you’re the only one who knows things about other people? You may have that spooky psychic thing going on that none of us will ever understand, but I’ve known you for a decade Em. I know what candy you eat when you’re stressing.”
“Peanut M&M’s,” Molly says from behind me, as she jogs down the stairs.
“What about them?” asks Hallie, who comes from the direction of the kitchen. “Is Em stress eating?”
I gape at all of them.
Julie snorts out a laugh. “Emma Langley, the most intuitive human on the planet, never realized she eats peanut M&M’s when she’s stressed.”
Hallie and Molly start laughing which sets Julie off even more. Five seconds later my three best friends are in hystericsright in the entryway of our office as I cross my arms across my chest and scowl at them.
Hallie wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Em, I love you, but did the five-pound bag of peanut M&M’s you went through during finals every semester in law school not clue you in? How is it possible you didn’t know this about yourself?”
“I’ve been focused on other things,” I grumble. “Like why Julie just locked the front door at two in the afternoon. And why we’re having a family meeting in the middle of the workday when we can’t make drinks.”
Family meetings usually happen at the end of the day specifically because they’re often accompanied by margaritas. We even bought a blender for the office for just those occasions. I could really use a drink. It may be three in the afternoon, but it’s five o’clock somewhere, right? And now I’m quoting cheesy country song lyrics.
I hate country music.
I need to get a grip.
Julie puts her arm around me from the other side. “I locked the door because no one has meetings for the rest of the day—I checked all of your schedules—so it’s fashion show time.”
Hallie gasps. “They’re here?”
“Come see for yourself.” Julie points to the living room we use as a reception area.
“Oh, hell yes.” Molly makes a beeline for the living room.
We all follow, and there, set up on a rolling clothes rack, are the bridesmaids dresses for Hallie’s wedding we all chose a few weeks ago. Hallie didn’t care about the colors or anything—she just wanted us each to wear something we loved that looked like us. But Molly convinced her to go with a fall color scheme for the outdoor October wedding so we would all at least coordinate. We each went for our fittings separately since working around three schedules for multiple appointments was next to impossiblewith all our busy practices, but we wanted to try them all on together once they were finished. Julie must have worked her magic again to get them delivered here.
“Okay.” Molly rubs her hands together with glee, taking charge of the moment. “Hal, you sit on the couch, and we’ll all change upstairs. We’ll come back down together so you can get the full impact.”
She hands Julie and me the white garment bags marked with our names and takes her own before pushing us up the stairs and into her office.
“Strip it off ladies. Let’s see these dresses.”
“If I would have known this was today, I would have worn a better bra,” I say, stripping off my shirt.
“Have a little faith, Em.” Molly strides over to her closet and opens the door, pulling out four pink bags. She keeps one for herself and hands one to me and one to Julie, setting the fourth on the floor.
“What did you do, Mol?” asks Julie.
“See for yourself.” Molly motions to the bags. Julie and I each dig in, pulling out the exact lingerie that we each need for our dresses.
“The sizes should be right, but if something doesn’t work, I can exchange it for you.”
“Jesus, Molly, this is…something.” Julie holds up a lacy bra and matching thong.
Molly shrugs. “It’s the right style for your dress, and I know Asher is alingerie just gets in the waykind of guy, but if he’ll be taking off your dress anyway, you might as well put something under it that will knock his socks off.”
Julie narrows her eyes. “Who says he’ll be taking off my dress? I can take off my own clothes just fine.”
I scoff at her. “You’re kidding right? That man undresses you with his eyes every chance he gets. When you’re wearing a fancydress to a wedding where you’re walking down an aisle that he’s standing at the end of, even if he’s not the groom? Jules, I’d be surprised if he doesn’t tear the thing off you before the night is even over.”
