The Wedding Sisters Read Online Free PDF Page B

didn’t apply to him. And sadly, in the grand scheme of things, they didn’t. Because of his father’s wealth and stature, he was already ensconced at a neighboring private school.
    But there would be no such safety net for Janell South.
    â€œHugh, I understand why you feel that way and that you feel bad. But it’s not your job to cover for her. You have to report this or you’re as much at fault as she is.”
    â€œWell, it’s too late for that. I told her I was giving her a warning.”
    Meryl looked at him in shock. “Hugh! You helped put that code of ethics in place, and now you’re just ignoring it?”
    â€œDon’t Monday-morning-quarterback me, Meryl,” he responded angrily. “I was agonizing over this all day, and you couldn’t be bothered to talk for five minutes. And I couldn’t just wait to deal with it. So I did what I thought was right.”
    It was then that Meryl realized this was about more than just Janell South. Hugh was pissed. He was pissed that their daughter was marrying into a family that expected a lavish wedding. He was pissed that Meryl was on board with that idea even if it meant straining them financially. And yes, he was pissed that a rule put in place to keep spoiled rich kids in line had bitten his pet student—a poor student—in the ass.
    â€œFine. You did what you thought was right. In that case, don’t hide in here, ‘agonizing over it’ when we have a family dinner tonight. Please, just forget about this for now. Enjoy tonight.” She looked at him imploringly. “For Meg.”
    After a moment, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “You’re right.”
    â€œWe have a wedding to plan.” She smiled, hoping to make the school stuff recede, to bring him into a joyful moment.
    â€œMake sure to keep the spending under control, okay? Within reason.”
    â€œI will.”
    â€œPromise?”
    â€œI promise.”
    He kissed her, and as if on cue, the doorbell rang.
    â€œThat’s them!” she said, her voice shrill, her heart leaping.
    â€œMeryl, relax. It’s just dinner.”

 
    three
    Josephine “Jo” Becker never thought twice about what to wear, but tonight it was somewhat of a problem. Her usual jeans, high tops, and T-shirts were out: the Campions were coming to dinner. Or, rather, THE CAMPIONS . She had come to think of them in all caps.
    She made herself a soy latte, ignoring her waiting customers. Café Grumpy was wall-to-wall Brooklynites. Contrary to its ironic name, the café was warm and pleasant, with earth-toned exposed-brick walls, tin ceilings, and bright orange accents, simple wooden furniture, and eclectic design details everywhere—the occasional freestanding bookshelf, a potted plant, round wall clocks. Today, the entire staff happened to be moving in slow motion because last night one of the baristas had her burlesque debut nearby at the Bell House. Jo made it home a little after three in the morning—she was considered an early defector, lame, a “pussy.” She would have made it an all-nighter if her girlfriend hadn’t declined to join the Café Grumpy crew in their night of debauchery. But Caroline was in law school and always studying; nights out were temporarily on hold. Jo did not— would not —complain, even if every single minute apart left her feeling raw-nerved and aching, still, three years after they got together.
    Jo’s heart sped up erratically just thinking of her. God, I love her.
    She pulled her phone out and texted Caroline. Clocking out soon—will u be ready to go? My mother will stroke out if we’re late for this one.
    There had been a time when Jo would have dreaded dinner with her uptight mother, her cranky grandmother, her two bickering older sisters, and her dad checked out thinking about his book or his students or whatever else occupied that man’s mind—he