The Bridesmaid and the Billionaire. Shirley Jump

her friend a one-armed hug. “To the dogs, it is. They love you, and so do your customers. Heck, you started when you were eleven, and now look at you. You have your own shop, no debt, an appointment book so full it threatens to explode on a daily basis—”

      “While my sister’s friends are all married to doctors and lawyers and driving around town in SUVs, talking about their designer baby bags. I’m not just a bridesmaid, Kim, I’m the proverbial old maid of the group.” Every time she tried to talk to her sister’s friends, the conversations died midstream. Susannah felt like she had yet to experience life, had yet to reach beyond the borders of this small town.

      “Jackie’s friends are not that bad.”

      Susannah paused in filling another bowl and traced a circle into the white tablecloth. “No, they’re not. I’m just grumpy, I guess. Anxious to get out of town.”

      “To live your life. Not everyone else’s.”

      “Exactly.” She looked up into Kim’s understanding brown eyes. “I’ve waited so long for this chance. Now that Jackie is getting married…”

      “You feel like it’s your turn.”

      Susannah nodded.

      Kim’s hand covered hers again. “Maybe it was your turn a long time ago. Did you ever consider that?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Jackie’s twenty-two. An adult, Suzie. You stopped being responsible for her a long time ago.”

      Except that mantle had never left Susannah’s shoulders. She’d worn the heaviness like a thick winter coat every day of her life since their parents had died eight years ago and at only eighteen herself, she’d been left in charge of fourteen-year-old Jackie. Jackie had grown up, but that hadn’t stopped Susannah from worrying, from feeling as if she should stay around one more day, one more hour, and keep on watching out for her not-always-responsible younger sister. “You’re right, but…”

      “But you don’t always take your own advice.” Kim smiled. “When the wedding’s over, promise me you’ll stop being such a mother hen.”

      “Definitely. I’m going on a long, long, long trip. Three weeks in Paris by myself. You never know,” she added, grinning, “I might love it so much, I might not come back.”

      “Leave this town forever? You?” Kim scoffed. “I don’t think so. You love it here. Everyone who lives here loves you, too.”

      Susannah rose and stretched out her arms, spinning as she did, as if she could shake all that off. “I want to see the world, Kim. I want to see what else is out there. I want…” She heaved a sigh. “I want to experience everything.”

      Kim laughed. “What you want is to hit the lottery to pay for these big dreams.”

      Susannah lowered her arms and nodded. “Yeah, I do. But at least I can take a trip, then come back here and say I did that, saw that, experienced this. It’s a start. And it can tide me over for a long time while I’m living in an apartment and saving for the next trip. It will get me through the next four hundred poodles.” She grinned, then went back to the boxes.

      Kim’s cell phone rang. She checked the number. “Damn. Speaking of family, that’s my mom. I’m late picking her up. She has a doctor’s appointment and I promised to run her over there.” Kim’s gaze swept the stacks of boxes, the piles of tablecloths waiting to be laid out—another money-saving step Jackie had volunteered to take on but left in Susannah’s lap. “I hate to leave you with all this.”

      “Go, go. I’ll be fine. Seriously.”

      “That’s what you always say, you glutton for punishment.” Kim gave her friend a quick hug. “Promise me you won’t stay too late. I’ll call you when I’m done, and if you’re still here, I’ll zip back and finish up with you,’ kay?”

      “Sure.”

      Kim hurried out of the ballroom. Quiet descended over the vast room, broken only by the occasional sound of the hotel’s staff working in the kitchen beyond the doors. The Chapel Ridge Hotel was small—and not much of a hotel, considering its location in the itty-bitty town. But it had a view of the lake, and because of that, the hotel did a brisk wedding and prom business.

      To keep their costs low, Jackie and Paul had chosen to hold their wedding on a Friday in mid-April, before the busy season began. The owner, the father of one of Jackie’s high-school classmates, had given the young couple a break on the price and as many bonuses—like a few extra days for setup—that he could.

      Susannah dropped into one of the chairs, her leg muscles aching from the long day spent standing, and got busy assembling the centerpieces. The work became mindless. Dumping in the glass marbles, assembling the silk flowers, adding the ribbons. She worked in assembly-line fashion, creating four at a time—all that she had room for on the space before her.