Hate Mail by Winter Renshaw EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Winter Renshaw
- Language: English
- Genre: New Adult & College Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Campbell
“Please tell me this is some kind of joke.” My mother’s face falls the instant
I emerge from the fitting room in a black lace wedding dress.
The soft filtered sunlight streaming through the lace curtains, racks of
designer gowns, Chopin faintly playing from hidden speakers, endless
flutes of Veuve Clicquot, and perfumed, lily-of-the-valley air should be
enough to make this one of the most beautiful moments of anyone’s life,
only this has to be one of the worst moments of mine.
Six months from today, I’m to be married to Slade Delacorte—an
arrangement my parents made with his before either of us were old enough
to protest.
“Nico said black is the trending wedding dress color this year.” I wink
at my fitting room attendant, silently willing him to help me out here, only
he looks like a deer in headlights. “Right, Nico? Weren’t you just telling me
that?”
“It … it’s true, Mrs. Wakemont,” he stammers in his posh English
accent as his hooded gaze settles on my mother’s horrified expression.
“There was an article a while back in Bride magazine. I could find it if
you’d like to have a read.”
Turning, I step onto the raised platform and examine my reflection in
the three-sided mirror, ignoring the commotion going on behind me as my
mother attempts to get my bridesmaids on her side.
“White is classic though,” Tenley, my best friend since preschool,
chimes in. Love her to death but she’s always been weak-spined, especially
when it comes to powerful, intimidating women like my mother. “You can’t
go wrong with white.”
“Black is bold and sexy,” my former college roommate, Elise, offers.
She’s always been quick to take my side in all matters—even when I’ve
been wrong—because that’s the kind of person Elise is. “You could wear
traditional white for the ceremony and do an avant-garde black for your
reception.”
“I like it,” Stassi, my best friend from high school, chimes in. “I
wouldn’t wear it personally, but I like it. It makes me think of a black swan.
Chic and elegant.”
Stassi offers a pained smile, though her pain has nothing to do with my
dress or this awkward situation we’re in. Last year, she found out her fiancé
was cheating on her a few months before the wedding. They were about to
buy a condo in Manhattan together and everything. Their entire lives were
ahead of them and I’d never seen her happier—until it all came crashing
down.
Inevitably the wedding was called off and Stassi moved back home to
Sapphire Shores for a “break,” but her sabbatical has turned into something
akin to a semi-permanent situation.
She used to take the subway to work and broker high-dollar deals.
Now she makes crappy pizza at a local parlor and lives in the run-down
apartment above it—by choice.
But I digress.
“You girls are doing Campbell a disservice by being generous with your
praise,” my mother tells my friends. The girls exchange looks, though not a
single one of them dares to rebut her. Mom clasps her French manicured
hands in her lap, over her elegantly slanted crossed legs. “Let’s get on with
this, darling. Please.”
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