chapter 7
Nic
I pushed the food around my plate, barely hearing Bianca’s whining about wanting to move back to New York.
“I’ve told you, Bianca, moving back is not an option right now,” Mother said.
“Fine.” Bianca pouted, poking at her salad. “But don’t be surprised if my prom date ends up being some dude named Bubba.”
“Oh dear Lord.” Mother took a sip of her wine, fanning her face with a napkin. “I’m sure there’s someone suitable for you to date in this town. Perhaps one of Sheriff Baker’s sons? You met them last week. What was his name?”
“Chase.” Father’s voice drifted from behind the Wall Street Journal.
“Yes, Chase. He seemed like a nice enough boy, even if his family doesn’t run in the same social circles as ours.”
I gritted my teeth. Mother was the ultimate New York socialite
