Bree’s POV
The tension is high. All three drunk milfs are now sober.
I pace the small space between us, while Ella and Caroline sit up with their hands on their knees, like toddlers who just committed a crime. After the email from Princess Madison, I screamed so bad that they jerk to consciousness, and of course, without the alcohol.
“Can you relax a bit…”
“Don’t tell me that.” I fire back at Caroline. “You didn't when I begged you to. You could have just handed me my motherfucking phone.”
I sigh and take a deep breath. My brain is catching fire.
“Sorry for swearing.” I'm close to tears. “It's just that my husband’s campaign is in two days, the exact date with this wedding.”
I dump my ass on the couch and grumble.
“Why am I even complaining? I clearly have to cancel…”
“No!”
