Free Too Good to Be True by Kristan Higgins Page A

Stuart?” I asked, moving out of the way as an older woman sidled up to LifeSource, a sculpture of an ovary that looked to my nonmedical eye like a lumpy gray balloon.
    Margaret sighed, then finished off her wine. “I don’t know, Grace. I don’t really want to talk about it, okay?”
    “Sure,” I murmured, frowning. “I do see Stuart at school, of course.”
    “Right. Well. You can tell him to fuck off for me.”
    “I…I won’t be doing that. Jeez, Margs, what’s wrong?” While theirs was a case of opposites attract, Margaret and Stuart had always seemed happy enough. They were childless by choice, rather well-off thanks to Margaret’s endless success in court, lived in a great house in Avon, took swanky vacations to Tahiti and Liechtenstein and places like that. They’d been married for seven years, and while Margaret was not the type to coo and gloat, she’d always seemed pretty content.
    “Well, crap, speaking of disastrous couples, here come Andrew and Natalie. Shit. I need a little more wine for this.” She fled back to the table for another glass of cheap pinot grigio.
    And there they were indeed, Andrew’s fair hair a few shades lighter than Natalie’s honey-gold. Considerably more relaxed than at the wedding, when they dared not get within ten feet of each other lest I burst into sobs, they now radiated happiness. Their hands brushed as they approached, fingers giving a little caress though they stopped just short of actual hand-holding. The chemistry crackled between them. No, not just chemistry. Adoration. That’s what it was. My sister’s eyes were glowing, her cheeks flushed with pink, while a smile played at the corner of Andrew’s mouth. Gack.
    “Hey, guys!” I said merrily.
    “Hi, Grace!” Natalie said, flushing brighter as she hugged me. “Is he here? Did you bring him?”
    “Bring whom?” I asked.
    “Wyatt, of course!” she chuckled.
    “Right! Um, no, no. I think we should be dating longer than a few weeks before I bring him to one of Mom’s shows! Also, he’s…at the hospital.” I forced a chortle. “Hi, Andrew.”
    “How are you, Grace?” he said, grinning, his green eyes bright.
    “I’m great.” I looked down at my untouched wine.
    “Your hair looks gorgeous!” Nat exclaimed, reaching out to touch a lock that was for once curly and not electrocuted.
    “Oh, I got a haircut this morning,” I murmured. “Bought some new tamer.” Had to practically sell an ovary of my own to afford it, but, yes, along with the clothes, I figured some better hair control was in order. Couldn’t hurt to look my best when seeking The One, right?
    “Where’s Margaret?” Natalie asked, craning her swanlike neck to look around. “Margs! Over here!”
    My older sister sent me a dark look as she obeyed. She and Natalie had always scraped a bit…well, it would be more fair to say that Margaret scrapped, since Natalie was too sweet to really fight with anyone. As a result, I got along better with each than they did with each other—my reward for generally being taken for granted as the poor neglected middle child.
    “I just sold a uterus for three thousand dollars!” Mom exclaimed, joining our little group.
    “There is no limit to the bad taste of the American people,” Dad said, trailing sullenly behind her.
    “Oh, shut it, Jim. Better yet, find your own damn bliss and leave mine alone.”
    Dad rolled his eyes.
    “Congratulations, Mom, that’s wonderful!” Natalie said.
    “Thank you, dear. It’s nice that some people in this family can be supportive of my art.”
    “Art,” Dad snorted.
    “So, Grace,” Natalie said, “when can we meet Wyatt? What’s his last name again?”
    “Dunn,” I answered easily. Margaret smiled and shook her head. “I will definitely get him up here soon.”
    “What does he look like?” Nat asked, reaching for my hand in girlish conspiracy.
    “Well, he’s pretty damn cute,” I chirruped. Good thing Julian and I had gone over this.