Page 93 of Fauxmance

So we were going to pretend like that conversation hadn't happened?Okay, then.

"Yes, I am," I said. "Congratulations."

"Thanks." Grabbing a towel, she dried her hands slowly and methodically, looking me up and down. "I'm Phillipa Davenport-Rockwell, and who might you be?"

"My name's Magnolia," I said.

One of the other two stepped forward then and began washing her hands as well.

"Ah, flower names," she said. "How quaint."

"You think so, Delaney?" The bride gave a delicate shrug. "I've never liked them myself. No offense, Magnolia."

"None taken," I said back.

"They do have a certain country-bumpkin kind of charm," Delaney added.

"Will you two please give it a rest?" The third cousin stepped forward, washed her hands, and then turned to me. With a roll of her eyes, she said, "Don't mind them. They were like this in the womb."

A scoff and a "hmph" came from behind her.

"I'm Annabelle Davenport. Unfortunately."

"Why unfortunately?" I asked.

She threw a thumb over her shoulder. "Because it means I share part of my DNA with them."

"Oh Annabelle, you're so different and rebellious," Phillipa said. "A girl who wants to study STEM, hold down a career and a marriage? How very feminist of you."

Annabelle shrugged. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Good luck doing both," she said. "Just remember, don't let your husband feel neglected."

"Yeah," Delaney said, "or he might start looking for satisfaction elsewhere."

"Men are known to do that."

"But if that was the case," I put in, "why would she want to marry this guy in the first place?"

Phillipa gave me a look. "Because he's loaded. Duh."

"That's not why I'm marrying Nathan," Annabelle said.

Another one of those delicate shrugs.

"It'snot," she repeated.

"Ugh, whatever," Phillipa said. "You're worse than Hayden sometimes. He always liked to pretend money didn't matter to him either. But you remember his type."

She shot me a look.

"No offense, but it definitely wasn't you."

"None taken," I said—though I did take a little bit of offense at the sneer in her voice.

Curiosity won out in the end.

"What is his type?"

---