Slightly Engaged
There are a lot of things worse than being SLIGHTLY ENGAGED…being entirely broke, completely alone and wholly perplexed.It's been a year and a half since Tracey and Jack moved in together, and everything's totally perfect–well, okay, almost perfect. There's still Tracey's mom, who says they're "living in sin," and her friends, who are all smug, married and totally sure that there would already be a ring on Tracey's finger if she hadn't been in such a rush to cosign a lease. Even Tracey is beginning to wonder whether Jack really is looking for a permanent relationship, or whether she's just renting space in his heart.But just when Tracey's doubts are seriously raging out of control, Jack's mom lets her in on a secret–he's just taken an heirloom diamond out of the family's safe-deposit box, which must mean that he's going to propose any day now.Okay, any week now…Any month now?
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CRITICAL PRAISE FOR Mike, Mike & Me
“The inventive premise of Markham’s winning novel involves a love triangle in both the past and the present among pretty Beau, the Mike she married, and the Mike she left behind…. Markham’s latest is an appealing, wholly original yarn.”
—Booklist
“…hilarious…readers will be instantly catapulted back in time, into their own versions of Very Big Hair and spandex bike shorts.”
—Romantic Times BOOKclub
CRITICAL PRAISE FOR Slightly Settled
“Readers who followed Tracey’s struggles in Slightly Single, and those meeting her for the first time, will sympathize with this singleton’s post-breakup attempts to move on in this fun, lighthearted romp with a lovable heroine.”
—Booklist
“Like many women, Tracey needs to figure out when to listen to her friends and when to listen to herself.”
—Romantic Times BOOKclub
CRITICAL PRAISE FOR Slightly Single
“…an undeniably fun journey for the reader.”
—Booklist
“Bridget Jonesy…Tracey Spadolini smokes, drinks and eats too much, and frets about her romantic life.”
—Publishers Weekly
WENDY MARKHAM
is a pseudonym for New York Times bestselling, award-winning novelist Wendy Corsi Staub, who has written more than sixty fiction and nonfiction books for adults and teenagers in various genres—among them contemporary and historical romance, suspense, mystery, television and movie tie-in and biography. She has coauthored a hardcover mystery series with former New York City mayor Ed Koch and has ghostwritten books for various well-known personalities. A small-town girl at heart, she was born and raised in western New York on the shores of Lake Erie and in the heart of the notorious snow belt. By third grade, her heart was set on becoming a published author; a few years later, a school trip to Manhattan convinced her that she had to live there someday. At twenty-one, she moved alone to New York City and worked as an office temp, freelance copywriter, advertising account coordinator and book editor before selling her first novel, which went on to win a Romance Writers of America RITA>® Award. She has since received numerous positive reviews and achieved bestseller status, most notably for the psychological suspense novels she writes under her own name. Her Red Dress Ink title Slightly Single was one of Waldenbooks’ Best Books of 2002. Very happily married with two children, Wendy writes full-time and lives in a cozy old house in suburban New York, proving that childhood dreams really can come true.
In loving memory of my beautiful mom,
Francella Corsi April 17, 1942–May 11, 2005 You alone read and loved everything I ever wrote…. And you said you liked the “funny ones” best of all. Here’s one more, written with laughter through tears, especially for you.
Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes, by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers, and sisters, aunts and cousins, but only one mother in the whole wide world.
—Kate Douglas Wiggin
Contents
Part I: Labor Day Weekend
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Part II: Sweetest Day, Beggar’s night
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Part III: Thanksgiving
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Part IV: Christmas
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Part V: Anguilla
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Part VI: Valentine’s Day
Chapter 18
Part VII: October
Epilogue
Chapter 1
I love weddings!
Doesn’t everyone?
Um, apparently not.
“Cripes, Tracey, I can’t believe this is how we’re spending the last Saturday of the summer.”
That’s my live-in boyfriend, Jack, grumbling as he gazes bleakly through the windshield of our rented subcompact car at the holiday-traffic-clogged Jersey Turnpike. The midday sun is glaring overhead and heat radiates in waves off the asphalt, along with toxic black exhaust fumes.
Thank God for air-conditioning. I adjust the full-blast passenger’s-side vent to blow in the vicinity of my navel, lest it muss my fancy upswept do.
It took me almost an hour and a half a can of Aussie Freeze Spray to get my straight, bra-clasp-length brown hair looking this supermodelish. It’ll probably wilt the second I get out of the car, but at least Jack got to appreciate it. He was momentarily complimentary about my hair and my slinky red cocktail dress before he went back to grousing about the wedding.
It shouldn’t bug me that he didn’t mention anything about how I was wearing a similar red dress the night we met.
It shouldn’t, but it does.
I can’t help it. For the first year or so that we were together, he made a point of noticing details like that. I guess he’s gotten less romantic the last few months. Or maybe I’ve gotten overly sensitive. I shouldn’t go around weighing every comment he makes—or noticing the ones he doesn’t make anymore.
I shouldn’t, but lately, I do.
It’s not that I think we’ve fallen out of love. If anything, we’ve become closer, our lives interwoven. His friends are my friends; his mother and his favorite sister, Rachel, sometimes call just to talk to me. My friends are his friends; my mother and sister—well, forget about them. The point is, we’re still a solid couple. We laugh all the time; we know each other’s most intimate secrets; the sex is frequent and good, if I do say so myself.
