In a Moon Smile by Sherri Coner Read Free Book Online Page B

your dick falls off.”
    Trying not to stumble, she stood up and patted Jack’s hand. “By the way, I don’t give a rat’s ass what happens to your career. And let’s see,” she paused and planted her hand thoughtfully on her hip. “Oh yes, I remember now. Jack, you can go straight to hell, okay? Good-bye, Jack.”
    Chesney left the bar, thankful for the sobering cold air on her face once she stepped outside on the street. She walked home, never feeling again like she wanted to cry over that man or any other men, for that matter. All she could think about was how much she wanted to see her grandmother’s house. It had been far too long since she had been there, in the midst of those priceless memories.
    She smiled easily at Becca and sighed, knowing all of a sudden that her life would be fine. It would require some redirection, but it certainly was not ruined. Jack Ass was not worth a total wipe-out of all the good things she had in her life.
    “Maybe the people who live there now will invite you to walk around inside the house again,” Becca said. “Maybe that experience will help you get grounded again.”
    “Maybe,” Chesney shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll be away for a couple of days. And like I said, when I get back, I’ll drop the bomb at the Blake household about the cancelled wedding.”

Chapter Four
     
     
    Nervously pasting a fake smile on her face as she arranged the casserole lid covering the too dry, too spicy, baked ziti, Chesney carefully stepped on the rug by the door.  She prayed that her heart continued to beat. She felt sweaty and sick.
    You are not the same person your mother saw a few days ago. You must introduce yourself today as the adult daughter who grew herself one bad ass backbone.
    “Chesney? Is that you, dear?” Madelyn, the willowy mother of perfection floated through the formal dining room. Chesney stiffly stood in the entry, forcing herself not to fling the ziti and bolt. “You brought a dish? Oh, you didn’t have to bring anything.”
    Madelyn brushed her pink cheek against her daughter’s, took away the casserole and smiled. Crisp, cool looking Madelyn Blake could pass as a countess. She offered that royal attitude that often left Chesney wondering if she should kiss her mother’s hand or something, being such an underling in her presence. Again, Chesney wished for the energy to make it through this family get-together without sprinting off to the bathroom to sob or vomit or both.
    “You look lovely,” Madelyn said. “Your hair is very becoming when you wear it long. It makes you look so young.”
    Oh, my gosh! My hair has not been above my frigging shoulder blades since eighth grade. Natural curl turns it into a puffy Brillo pad. So if it is short, my hair looks exactly like a woman’s very neglected bush. Come on, Mom. Don’t you know anything about me?
    Chesney said nothing except thank you and filed away yet another reminder that Madelyn Blake might not be successful in picking her daughter out of a line-up. She didn’t seem to actually see Chesney at all for who she really was.
    I’ll bet she doesn’t remember my dress size or my favorite color. She has never bothered to ask any of those questions. Ever. I’m invisible unless I am once again causing my parents some kind of morbid embarrassment.
    “Your sister is in the kitchen, feeding the baby,” Madelyn said. Just mentioning her only grandchild brought a blush of pride to Madelyn’s chiseled cheeks. That grandmotherly glow temporarily blinded Chesney as she slipped around the edge of the sofa. Her fingers lingered on the leather, wishing something in the room could be soothing. But it was again that dental office experience.
    “Your father and Cooper are in the study, smoking those nasty cigars,” Madelyn said with a laugh. “I was slicing tomatoes for the salad when I heard you arrive. And the bread is baking.”
    Here it comes, Chesney thought as she followed her mother toward the kitchen.
    Any