Nine
Cleo
That Sunday, Bridget and I wait in the bar of the Glacier Point Resort for Denver to pick us up. He gave me an out every day this week, but because he appeared so worried that I’d be coming to his family’s Sunday dinner, I kept insisting that I’d love to come. Irritating him is becoming a bad habit of mine.
“You said Denver has brothers?” Bridget sits on the bar stool beside me, nursing her glass of wine. She’s dressed as if she’s going to an upscale restaurant for a five-course meal. A fitted dress shows off her long legs and three-inch heels, and her makeup is so thick that if I ran my nail down her cheek, it’d look as if she had a scar. But she’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.
“Yeah, but I think majority of them are spoken for.”
“Well, you know I can chang
