The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

“She wants it Saturday, and I’m not even going to think about how they can get it all done by then. But she wants it done, so it will be.”

“I’ll text her. We can make up some flyers and signs.”

Trey put an arm around her waist, drew her over, pressed his face to her shoulder. “Thanks. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

Then Clover played “Macho Man” and made him laugh.

“I think that’s a dig, but I’ll take it. It wasn’t the macho thing,”he began, then laughed again at the raised-eyebrow look he got from both women. “Maybe slightly. Not so macho I can’t admit you were right. Owen was right, too.”

“Owen?”

“He told me to get up here, have a beer, a hot meal, and sex, and I wouldn’t be so pissed.”

“Happy to help with the first two,” Cleo told him, and dropped a coated fillet in hot oil. “But I leave the third up to my good friend.”

“I can handle it.” She leaned down, kissed him. “But if you mean right now…”

“After the first two, and the story. I could use a good story.”

By the time they sat down to the meal, Sonya had nearly finished the tale.

“It was more than a dream,” she said again, “because at times I could hear her, like narration. And it was all so clear. I saw her life, or what she considered the best parts of her life up until the day after the wedding.”

“When they headed north, to the manor.”

“Yeah. And it was beautiful, and adventurous, and foolish, and profound all at the same time.

“She had joy. She had Charlie. When I woke up, I knew that. And that feeling’s stayed with me since. We FaceTimed my mom last night and told her. She cried, but the good kind.”

“We all cried, the good kind. You can see it all in her portrait,” Cleo added. “But this gives us more of her.”

“She’s meant something to me for a long time, and this,” Trey said, “adds more. But you didn’t walk?”

“At least not out of the room—I really don’t think I left my bedroom. I didn’t the night I saw her die.”

“The mirror shows up, I guess, when and where it wants to. Or needs to,” Cleo decided.

“And Dobbs?”

“She put up a little fuss when Bree was here yesterday. Otherwise?” Sonya shrugged. “She’s been pretty quiet. Cleo—slight pause—this is really good.”

“It is, right? More authentic with mushy peas, apparently, but I couldn’t bring myself to make anything that looked like mush.”

“We’ll thank you for that. I forgot Bree was coming.”

“You’ve been a little busy. And Bree’s another story. Some slams and bangs, especially when we went up to show her Cleo’s studio.”

“How’d she take it?”

“Loved the house, because who wouldn’t? Was a little bit freaked out by Dobbs, but she didn’t run for the hills.”

“And the best part?” Cleo stabbed a chip. “She’s agreed to be our Event Goddess.”

“Heard that. Which means what exactly?”

“We’re excited,” Sonya told him, “because she’s going to coordinate. The menu, the staff, the bars, what goes where. It’s a load off.”