Slightly Irregular by Rhonda Pollero Read Free Book Online Page A

have no choice but to own up to her fifty years.
    She glanced around the great room, but thanks to the Botox, I couldn’t gauge her reaction.
    “When do you plan on decorating?”
    Direct hit . No matter how old I got, her zingers still stung. “It is decorated, Mom.”
    “Oh.”
    “You hate it,” I said, my spirits sinking.
    “I just never would have considered decor best suited to an outdoor eatery. But then again, it makes sense. You and your friends are partial to those waterfront bars.”
    “Would you like something to drink?” Arsenic, perhaps?
    “I’d like to see the rest of the cottage first.”
    “Follow me,” I said, with a mental picture of holding a gun to my head and slowly pulling the trigger. In under thirty seconds my mother had me committing virtual suicide.
    I got a lot of “uh-huh”s as we went from room to room, then what I hoped was the final noncompliment when we reached my bedroom.
    “I had no idea you’d be napping in the middle of the day,” she said, her puffy lips managing a scowl as she looked at my unmade bed.
    “I had a late night,” I explained. I detoured her away from the bathroom, where I’d left my brunch outfit crumpled on the floor. I wasn’t usually such a slob, but with Harold here, the quick change was a must.
    “Yes, I know,” she said.
    “You know what?” I asked as I led the way back toward the kitchen.
    “About your second job.”
    It took me a minute to follow the winding path that was her logic. “I don’t have a second job.”
    We returned to the great room. I sat on the sofa and offered her the chair across from me. She opted to stand.
    “But Mr. Caprelli said you were a babysitter.”
    “Hang on. You spoke to my boss?”
    “Of course, I needed Mr. Caprelli’s address for the invitation.”
    “Are you having a party or something?” First I was hearing about it.
    She shook her head as if I’d just suggested she vacation in Iraq. “I called him to ask if he would serve as your escort.”
    The hair on my arms stood up, and my skin tingled with dread. “My escort for what?”
    “Well,” she began as she lifted her scarf off her shoulders and began to retie it, “since you so abruptly ended your relations with Patrick, and even though I have a million things to attend to, I had to find you a suitable escort for the wedding.”
    Blood rushed to my head rendering me temporarily deaf. “So you called Tony?”
    “He’s successful. He’s a lovely man. He comes from a very influential family in New York. Did you know his father owns one of the largest investment firms and is considered a financial genius? His mother is a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution. He’s perfect as an escort. He’ll photograph quite nicely, too.”
    “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
    “I’m far from being facetious. The photographs are Lisa’s keepsake memories that—”
    My door opened, and Liam appeared. Normally, I would have been furious about him just bursting into my home, but I was stuck on planet Cassidy.
    “You should not have done that,” I explained, desperately trying not to grit my teeth or allow steam to come rushing out of my ears. I gave a sideways glance to Liam, who was wearing a grease-stained T-shirt and ragged jeans. His hair was mussed. “I already have an escort to the wedding.”
    My mother’s spine straightened. “And that would be whom?”
    “Liam,” I said, pointing to the unkempt man near the doorway.
    I thought for a moment that my announcement had the Botox draining from my mother’s forehead. Botox or not, I knew there was a frown in there somewhere, but she rammed her sunglasses on her face and marched her heeled feet to the door. Sidestepping Liam, she waltzed out without another word.
    I, on the other hand, was grinning, bordering on giddy. That moment ended when I remembered Liam’s entrance. Standing, I asked, “Are the words ‘my house’ somehow confusing to you?”
    “No, Ellen sent me. She’s