full-blown laugh as relief swept through her. Bless Stacy, she could always cheer her up. “You guessed it. If his mother were here, I’d need an amulet to ward off ‘the power of four.’
“That bad, huh?”
“Yes, and I’ve never actually met his mother.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if it’s me or all the women he dates.”
“He’s the only son and brother, so I’m guessing it’s not you, sugar.” She opened her menu and kept right on talking. “They’ll warm up to you once they get to know you, and if they don’t, forget ‘em, ‘cause they obviously don’t know dipshit from apple butter.”
Laughing, and with The Witches of Trent nearly forgotten, Jessie sat back and enjoyed all that was Stacy.
She came up with the funniest expressions for everyday things, courtesy of the Georgia relatives she was always quoting. When they met, she’d said if her daddy and nana knew she’d turned Yankee, they’d be spinning in their graves. Especially nana, who had once told her that Yankees were like hemorrhoids, pains in the butt when they come down and a relief when they went back up. She had tons of priceless nana gems.
“Your dad or your nana?” Jessie couldn’t resist asking.
“That expression, hon, is pure me!” Stacy gave her a smile and a wink as the waitress walked up to take their order.
After the waitress left, Jessie leaned in with her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands. “Enough about the three witches of Bloomfield Hills; tell me what’s happening with you and Jared Baker. Can you believe best friends are dating best friends? It’s weird, huh?”
It was more than weird; it was eerie.
Stacy grinned. “Who’d have thought a chance encounter with Marc and Jared two years ago would lead to me working in their clinic, right beneath their very noses, then meeting you and becoming best friends before you even came to St. Joe’s, then Jared literally running into me, knocking me down and nearly blowing out my knee, and me telling you about that opening at St. Joe’s, which brought you into Marc’s lair where he stalked you and trapped you like a spider does a fly.”
“Not a pleasant analogy, but I get it. You’re leaving out the best part though.”
“Oh, you mean where you start dating Marc and I start dating Jared and none of the four of us know it until we all show up one day for a ride on Marc Trent millionaire’s freakin’ yacht?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, well, I was getting to that.”
“Actually, it gets even weirder than that. Evidently, a few months back, Jared and Marc were eating at the diner where my mother works, she waited on them, I was at the counter eating dinner and you came in for take-out. The only ones who saw all of us were Marc and my mother.”
“It must be fate!”
“Or some wicked force messing with us.” Jessie couldn’t keep from glancing at Marc’s evil sisters. When she looked away, Stacy was watching her with big eyes.
“Do you think?”
They stared at each other for a moment, then said at the same time, “Nah.”
“If they were going to cast a love spell on Marc, it would be for a tall, slender, dark-haired Italian beauty with class and money, not a short curvy redhead from the hood.”
“True. I can’t get over Marc owning a yacht,” Stacy gushed. “Did you know he was loaded? I mean being a surgeon and owning the clinic, I expected him to be well off, but a yacht?”
“He’s more than loaded. His family owns one of the biggest plastics manufacturing plants in the country.” She should have known when she agreed to a day of ‘boating’ with Marc it wouldn’t be on a puny skiff or a dinghy. When she’d pulled up to the marina and found the right numbered slip, the fifty-foot sailing yacht had blown her away. It was like a mansion on the water, with three luxurious staterooms, a full service galley, and a huge lounge with plush furnishings and a seventy-inch retractable flat screen TV. Her entire apartment
“That bad, huh?”
“Yes, and I’ve never actually met his mother.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if it’s me or all the women he dates.”
“He’s the only son and brother, so I’m guessing it’s not you, sugar.” She opened her menu and kept right on talking. “They’ll warm up to you once they get to know you, and if they don’t, forget ‘em, ‘cause they obviously don’t know dipshit from apple butter.”
Laughing, and with The Witches of Trent nearly forgotten, Jessie sat back and enjoyed all that was Stacy.
She came up with the funniest expressions for everyday things, courtesy of the Georgia relatives she was always quoting. When they met, she’d said if her daddy and nana knew she’d turned Yankee, they’d be spinning in their graves. Especially nana, who had once told her that Yankees were like hemorrhoids, pains in the butt when they come down and a relief when they went back up. She had tons of priceless nana gems.
“Your dad or your nana?” Jessie couldn’t resist asking.
“That expression, hon, is pure me!” Stacy gave her a smile and a wink as the waitress walked up to take their order.
After the waitress left, Jessie leaned in with her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands. “Enough about the three witches of Bloomfield Hills; tell me what’s happening with you and Jared Baker. Can you believe best friends are dating best friends? It’s weird, huh?”
It was more than weird; it was eerie.
Stacy grinned. “Who’d have thought a chance encounter with Marc and Jared two years ago would lead to me working in their clinic, right beneath their very noses, then meeting you and becoming best friends before you even came to St. Joe’s, then Jared literally running into me, knocking me down and nearly blowing out my knee, and me telling you about that opening at St. Joe’s, which brought you into Marc’s lair where he stalked you and trapped you like a spider does a fly.”
“Not a pleasant analogy, but I get it. You’re leaving out the best part though.”
“Oh, you mean where you start dating Marc and I start dating Jared and none of the four of us know it until we all show up one day for a ride on Marc Trent millionaire’s freakin’ yacht?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, well, I was getting to that.”
“Actually, it gets even weirder than that. Evidently, a few months back, Jared and Marc were eating at the diner where my mother works, she waited on them, I was at the counter eating dinner and you came in for take-out. The only ones who saw all of us were Marc and my mother.”
“It must be fate!”
“Or some wicked force messing with us.” Jessie couldn’t keep from glancing at Marc’s evil sisters. When she looked away, Stacy was watching her with big eyes.
“Do you think?”
They stared at each other for a moment, then said at the same time, “Nah.”
“If they were going to cast a love spell on Marc, it would be for a tall, slender, dark-haired Italian beauty with class and money, not a short curvy redhead from the hood.”
“True. I can’t get over Marc owning a yacht,” Stacy gushed. “Did you know he was loaded? I mean being a surgeon and owning the clinic, I expected him to be well off, but a yacht?”
“He’s more than loaded. His family owns one of the biggest plastics manufacturing plants in the country.” She should have known when she agreed to a day of ‘boating’ with Marc it wouldn’t be on a puny skiff or a dinghy. When she’d pulled up to the marina and found the right numbered slip, the fifty-foot sailing yacht had blown her away. It was like a mansion on the water, with three luxurious staterooms, a full service galley, and a huge lounge with plush furnishings and a seventy-inch retractable flat screen TV. Her entire apartment
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