Semua Bab Rewrite Our Story: Best Friend's Brother Second Chance : Bab 81 - Bab 88

Camden is magnetic. I can’t look away. I credit it to the fact he appears so different tonight. He seems actually charming. He speaks to a couple, but the woman looks like she wants nothing to do with the man standing next to her, despite his attempt to pull her closer to him by wrapping his arm around her.She doesn’t notice; she’s hanging on to every single word Camden says as he looks at the art in front of him. He’s passionate about art, that much I can tell. But this looks like something more. He seems to talk about the art the way I talk about Wake and Bake. Like he’s put his heart and soul into it.I hate it, but I can’t help but think maybe he’s different than what he seems. At least he is tonight. I’m sure around me, he’ll go back to his true personality of being an asshole. Even though I can tell my tray is empty and I should go get another round of food, I can’t tear my eyes away from him as I wonder…what is his true personality? Is it the raging asshole I’ve encountered a

PIPPAI don’t know if I’ve ever seen something so beautiful that it took my breath away. I’m speechless, allowing my finger to gently run over the carved curves of the statue.It’s of a couple, but only from their waist up. They clutch one another so delicately, so fiercely, that it’s obvious they’re in love. You look at them and it seems like something is trying to keep them apart, but they’re clinging to each other so tightly, like they won’t let anything come between them. The way her back arches, it appears as if some outside force you can’t see is pulling her from him.“This is stunning,” I whisper, running my finger along their outstretched arms.“You think?” Camden keeps his voice poised, but I can feel his gaze hot on me.“Why isn’t it on display out there? It would sell immediately.”“The artist doesn’t want to sell it.”I look at him in shock. Who wouldn’t want to sell this masterpiece? I don’t know anything about art, but it’s so intricate I have to imagine so many people w

PIPPA“Pippa, darling, who are you getting freaky with lately?”I’d respond to the sweet old lady sitting in the salon chair next to me, but I’m too busy choking on the latte I’d been sucking down. I sputter, trying to swallow the iced coffee that’d gone down the wrong pipe.“Stop wiggling,” Rhonda chides, holding on tight to a chunk of my hair as I try not to die at the words from a lady who hosts her bible studies at Wake and Bake some mornings.“What?” Rosemary asks innocently, like the question she asked me was completely normal conversation for a Saturday afternoon at the hair salon.“You can’t just go asking young ladies who they’re boinking, Rosemary,” Lenora chides from next to her friend. They’re both old enough to be my grandmother. In fact, they both were very close with my Grandma Pat before she passed.“Who uses the word boinking?” Rosemary fires back, her focus on the gossip magazine in front of her. I wish I was underneath one of the hair dryers so I could pretend this

CAMDENI’m sitting in my tiny office in the Sutten gallery, reviewing new pieces I’m having shipped here, when the bell to the gallery chimes. My eyes fall to the time in the corner of my monitor screen. It’s barely seven in the morning. We aren’t open yet. We aren’t open at all today. Almost every piece of art had sold at the opening over the weekend. And anything that didn’t sell that night sold on Monday. It’s Wednesday, so the gallery is empty, and I won’t have new inventory until this weekend.Sighing, I push my chair away from my desk and head down the hallway. I hadn’t bothered locking the door to the gallery because I thought the closed sign on the door and the lack of lights would inform anyone curious enough to wander by that we were closed.I’m ready to tell the customer I have nothing to sell them when my feet come to a halt. It isn’t a customer in the gallery. It’s Pippa.She doesn’t notice me, her eyes trained on a piece of art on the far wall that isn’t for sale. It was