Don’t think about him. He’s an arrogant, insufferable asshole.
She shuddered as she thought about how hard she’d tried to get to know Evan in the beginning, only to be soundly rejected. Obviously, a lowly teacher in a small town wasn’t worth him putting out the effort to even be polite. It wasn’t like she’d wanted to jump his bones. Well . . . maybe she had wanted to, but at the time she was just trying to be nice to a man she knew she was going to have to deal with for Emily’s wedding. She had managed to shrug off the first snub during Emily’s nuptials, thinking maybe Evan was just having a bad day. But when he’d responded the same way when Sarah and Dante had gotten married and the two of them had found themselves paired once again, Randi had finally realized that Evan simply didn’t like her. By the time Mara and Jared got married, Randi had completely ignored him except for the necessary superficial smiles and robotic motions she’d made as a bridesmaid to Evan’s groomsman. Since all of the married Sinclairs had wanted to be paired with their wives, Randi had ended up being a bridesmaid by default, as Mara’s best friend’s broken leg hadn’t completely healed in time for her to be part of the ceremony. She didn’t regret having been a bridesmaid so many times. Through the ceremonies, she’d made an incredible circle of female friends who had been there to support her during the last few dark weeks. Unfortunately, those friendships had come at the price of putting up with Evan Sinclair.
Too bad he’s such a self-involved dick, because he’s majorly hot. I wish I could figure out why I’m so damn attracted to him when I can’t stand him.
She was still contemplating what it was about Evan that irritated her when she left the building. The Center was busy as Randi exited, deciding to walk down to Brew Magic instead of taking the time to clean the snow off her car. Friday night saw a lot of activity at the Center, especially since Grady had married Emily and so many new programs and changes had occurred.
Shoving her cold hands into the pockets of her jacket, Randi gripped the Apache-tear crystal that Beatrice had given her months ago when she’d stopped by the elderly woman’s store, Natural Elements, to chat. Beatrice had been friends with Randi’s foster mother, and she’d stopped into the eclectic shop whenever she had the chance to update Beatrice on Joan’s medical condition. It was on one of those visits that Beatrice had made her prediction and handed Randi the crystal along with her predictions.
Joan will pass in the winter, but you’ll open a new chapter in your life soon after with a man who needs you even more than you need him. He’ll be your soul mate, and you’ll finally become a bride instead of a bridesmaid.
Randi shook her head with a sad smile, remembering the certainty on Beatrice’s face that day.
Picking up her pace, she trudged quickly through the lightly falling snow on the sidewalk. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe that supernatural talents could exist, but she didn’t take the elderly woman’s words too seriously. She’d known Beatrice since she’d moved to Amesport as a teen. Some of her predictions were eerily accurate, some of them weren’t. Randi’s rational mind was telling her that the accurate predictions Beatrice made could simply be coincidence. They had to be flukes. Randi was open-minded, but she had to draw the line at somebody knowing her future. She believed in people deciding their own fate or destiny. Anything else was just . . . chance.
She waited for traffic to clear before she sprinted across the street, her boots sliding in the snow as she stopped breathlessly in front of Brew Magic. She ignored the sensation that the crystal in her pocket appeared to warm beneath her fingers, before she jerked her hands from the warmth of the fleece compartments to hastily attempt to right her damp, wind-tossed hair.
“Beatrice’s stone is not magic, and her prediction is nothing more than nonsense,” she told herself forcefully as she brushed the snow from her head and tried to make herself presentable to go chat with Liam. “Things like that don’t happen to women like me. I make my own luck and my own future.”
Considering her past, Randi was happy with her life, even though she was still grieving for Joan. She had a good education, a good job, and friends who meant everything to her. If she was lonely sometimes now that her foster mother was gone, she’d get through it. Her earlier childhood had taught her that life was tough, and wishes didn’t often become reality. Dennis and Joan coming into her life had been her miracle, if there was any such thing. She didn’t need any more than what they’d given her: a home for a homeless girl with no hope for the future.
Randi tried not to remember that Beatrice had predicted that Dennis and Joan would still have a child, even after all hope of Joan getting pregnant was long gone. Before her foster parents had left on vacation to California, Beatrice had reminded them of her prediction, saying her spirit guides had told her that they’d find their daughter while they were on their Southern California sightseeing tour.
Joan had been a firm believer in Beatrice’s gift of premonitions. Being a realist, Randi had always been on the fence.
“Beatrice runs about fifty-fifty on her predictions,” Randi whispered to herself. “She was right about Jared and Mara, so she’s due to be wrong about mine.”
Chastising herself for standing in the brutal weather contemplating a silly rock, Randi hurried into Brew Magic, determined not to regret the fact that she’d had to cut her conversation short with her pen pal because of her prior engagement.
She tried not to think about what S. was doing right at the moment as she searched the crowded coffee shop for Liam.