Sledgehammer (Hard To Love Book 2) by P. Dangelico

Author:P. Dangelico [Dangelico, P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: P. Dangelico
Published: 2017-09-10T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

“Her name is Cheyenne. She’s a twenty-two year old model from St. Petersburg––Russia that is, not Florida––and her name is Cheyenne. How much you wanna bet she doesn’t have a drop of Native American blood in her veins?”

We’re both crammed in the Bloomingdales dressing room. Camilla is busy examining the navy dress she has on, pushing her gigantic boobs around as if she could knead them into getting smaller while I sit in the corner doling out orders. Straightening and smoothing the lower part of the dress, eyes still trained on the image in the mirror, she says, “How’s that? How do my boobs look? Be honest.”

“Like you’re hiding two pot belly pigs in your bra.”

She tears her gaze away from the floor length mirror and levels me with a glare I’ve seen her use on her rambunctious third graders. Her lips twitching in repressed mirth, she says, “You know what I’d like to hide? My fist in your eye socket.”

I take a big bite of the Swedish fish I bought at Dylan’s Candy Bar. “Get in line. And you said to be honest.” Pointing my headless Swedish fish at a cream colored dress with dolman sleeves, I say, “Try that one on.” With her skin tone, cream always looks amazing on her.

“I don’t have a single thing that fits me anymore.” She huffs. “If I can’t find something today, you’ll be seeing me in a Hefty bag next.” She strips down to her underwear again. Her body is stunning, big belly and all. Left and right she turns. She turns again, checking herself out in the mirror. Huffing, her lush mouth creeps into a frown.

“Stop showing off,” I snap. “Your mother called me about a baby shower.”

Camilla’s attention whips back to me. There’s violence in her eyes. “I’m only going to say this one more time. I do NOT want a baby shower. I’m fat. I’m mostly in a bad mood. And nothing fits me. My husband keeps buying shit we don’t need. We have so much shit I’m not even unpacking half of it; I’m sending it directly to the Red Cross and some other children’s charities. Which is only making more work for me and Mercedes. So help me God, if someone organizes a surprise baby shower, I will commit bloody murder.”

I chew my candy slowly, my brows halfway up my head. “So you don’t want a baby shower?” Her nostrils flare and I know not to push her any farther. “No wedding and no baby shower. You’re no fun. For the record, I want you to make a big deal out of mine––unless I’m forced to marry my prison mistress, in which case let’s never talk about it.”

“No one is becoming a prison wife. At least, no one I know.” She gives me one of her signature side-eye smirks. “And I had a wedding.”

“City Hall does not count. Speaking of weddings, Parker’s getting married at the botanical gardens.”

Camilla’s large brown eyes widen then narrow. “That’s where you wanted to get married––how do you know?”

“Facebook.

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