Читать книгу The Best Man - Kristan Higgins - Страница 17

CHAPTER EIGHT

THERE WERE PROBABLY five hundred people crowded onto the green and the streets around it for the Seventeenth Annual Cork & Pork, which sounded disturbingly perverted but was in fact a pig roast and wine tasting. Five hundred people, Faith noted, and it seemed like at least half of them were dying to console her—still—over being jilted on her wedding day.

“You were the most beautiful bride,” Mrs. Bancroft was saying. “Really. We were all so shocked. So shocked.”

“Thanks.”

“Have you seen him? Is he here?”

“I haven’t seen him yet, Mrs. Bancroft. But we’re getting together next week.”

Mrs. Bancroft stared at her, shaking her head. “You poor, poor thing.”

“Oops. There’s my brother. Gotta run.” She left Mrs. Bancroft and went over to the Blue Heron tables and looped her arm through Jack’s. “You needed me desperately, dear brother?”

“No,” he said, pouring a one-ounce taste for a woman whose T-shirt proclaimed her as Texan and Carrying. “In fact, I’m not sure we’re even related. How many sisters do I have, anyway? You seem to be multiplying.”

“Mrs. Bancroft is the eighth person to call me a poor thing and ask how hard it is to see Jeremy again.”