Free Sweet Surprises by Shirlee McCoy

a lot, because Millicent had more clothes, shoes, jewelry, and cars than ten people needed.
    â€œAs was I, Brenna,” Millicent huffed. “Really, just because you’ve traveled the world doesn’t mean you have the right to look down at those who have not.” She tugged at the princess neckline of her tight-fitting pink sundress, pulling it up a microinch. That wasn’t nearly enough to cover the burgeoning white flesh that spilled out. The woman needed to invest in a good bra. Better yet, breast reduction surgery. Or, maybe, just larger clothes.
    â€œI’m not looking down my nose at anyone. Just heading into work.” She started walking toward Chocolate Haven, hoping and praying that Millicent wouldn’t follow her.
    Of course Millicent did, because that seemed to be the way Brenna’s life was going lately.
    â€œAt Chocolate Haven?” Millicent asked as if she didn’t already know the answer. “I’m sure you could find better work than that.”
    â€œI’m sure I could, but my goal isn’t to find better work. It’s to help out my grandfather.”
    â€œI’d think he has plenty of help. Your sister and that boy she’s got living with her.” She glanced around, lowered her voice. “I’m very certain none of my husbands would have approved of me having a young man living in the house with us.”
    â€œWeren’t all your husbands”— Don’t say it, Brenna. Do. Not.— “ancient?”
    She’d said it, and poor Millicent looked like she was about to blow a fuse. Her face went from spray-on tan orange to fire-engine red. “None of my husbands were ancient. I’ll have you know that Jeremiah—may he rest in peace—was only seventy when he passed.”
    â€œAnd you’re how old? Forty-five?”
    â€œForty.” Millicent scowled, tugging at the top of her dress again. “And most people say I don’t look a day over twenty-five.”
    Most people lied, but that was a thought Brenna was definitely not going to share. Millicent loved to cause trouble and stir pots, and that was the last thing Brenna wanted. She was in town to help Byron and to get her crappy life together. She was not there to make the local snob angry.
    â€œI’m sure they do,” she said sweetly. “And I wasn’t trying to offend you when I mentioned your husbands’ ages. I just thought that men of their . . . maturity . . . might have been a little more intimidated by a nineteen-year-old kid. Sinclair is young, fit, and absolutely not worried about having a boy and his sister living with him and his wife.”
    â€œIf you say so. Personally, I think most men would frown on it, but that’s just me. I’m old-fashioned.” She patted her overly processed blond hair. “You and your sisters just have modern ideas about things. If I were you—”
    â€œYou’re not,” Brenna pointed out, hoping to forestall whatever advice the older woman wanted to give.
    She should have known it wouldn’t work.
    Millicent was on a roll, walking beside Brenna, her heels clicking against the sidewalk. “I’d have stuck it out with Dan. After all, no one is perfect. I know that better than most because I have been married and widowed more than once. A woman like you . . . you want everything: youth, charm, looks, money. But most of those things don’t come tied up in the same package. You’ve got to keep that in mind when you’re looking for a husband.”
    â€œI’m not looking for a husband,” Brenna said, but Millicent just kept talking.
    â€œOf course you are, dear. All women are. With your height, it’s going to be challenging. I think that if you put on something pretty and do something with your makeup and hair, you could go back to New York and ask Dan to give you a second chance
    â€œGive me a second chance?”
    â€œYou certainly