Chapter 1
Talia Barca gazed morosely at her cocktail, the ice clinking softly in the glass. How was she supposed to face her ex-husband at the upcoming family wedding? That insufferable jerk.
“So, what’s your plan?” her cousin, Nita Islas, asked gently, her voice cutting through Talia’s fog of dread.
Tally sighed, her fingers tightening around the chilled glass of amaretto sour. "I don't know," she mumbled before taking a sip.
Her cousin's wedding was approaching, and the guest list included everyone in the family—including her. The problem was Paul's name was also there: her cheating, heartless ex-husband.
Memories of their final confrontation surfaced with each sip—the dim lighting, shattered glass on the floor, Paul's face contorted in rage, and herself screaming at him to leave. She shook her head and took another large gulp.
The thought of his smug face made her nauseous. But skipping the wedding would only make her look like she was still hung up on that worthless man—and Tally refused to give him that satisfaction.
“Stop overthinking it, Tally,” Nita said with a casual shrug, her black off-the-shoulder top slipping to reveal a glittery bra strap against her bronzed skin. “Everyone in the family knows he treated you like garbage.”
Talia snorted. “Oh, please. They chalk it up to ‘miscommunication.’ And it doesn’t help that he’s been Mr. Charming to most of them. That’s why they’ve never fully cut him out.” She tipped her glass back, draining the last of her drink in one go.
“If my parents weren’t off gallivanting around the world, they’d have your back,” Nita said, her tone indignant. “It’s not right. The guy was a total prick.”
A prick with an ego bigger than his… well, everything else. Talia had tried to make it work with Paul, but in the end, she’d dubbed him a small-minded man with an even smaller… something. She exhaled heavily.
A whole week of wedding festivities with Paul strutting around like he owned the place? No, thank you. His Texas-sized god complex was matched only by his lack of anything worth bragging about.
“I’ll figure it out,” Talia said, though her voice lacked conviction. She needed a plan, and fast, or she’d have to skip the wedding entirely. That would only make her look like she was running from him, and Talia Barca didn’t run from anything except maybe Paul, who gave her a headache just thinking about him.
Nita slammed her glass down on the table with a thud. “What about Mrs. Wilder?”
“Gerri? My neighbor?” Talia asked, blinking.
“Exactly!” Nita leaned in, her dark eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Didn’t she mention tonight, as we were leaving, that she’s running some kind of matchmaking business from her apartment?”
Talia frowned, brushing a wayward black curl behind her ear as she tried to recall the conversation. Gerri Wilder, her lively older neighbor, was a hoot. They were the only two residents on their floor, so Talia often popped over to keep her company, not that Gerri seemed to need it.
The woman had a constant stream of male visitors, mostly from her sprawling family, and she’d recently mentioned that a few of her grandsons were moving into the building soon.
“She did say something about that,” Talia admitted, her mind turning.
“Problem solved!” Nita declared, swapping her empty glass for a fresh one from the passing waitress. She took a quick sip, grinning. “Let Gerri work her magic.”
Talia wasn’t so sure. Getting Gerri involved in her love life could either be a stroke of genius or a complete disaster. Her track record with men was abysmal, to put it mildly. She scanned the bar, a few blocks from her apartment, noting the crowd of college-aged patrons. At thirty-two, she felt like a grumpy grandma surrounded by all these young, carefree faces. Her love life wasn’t exactly thriving, and she didn’t see that changing anytime soon.
“You need to meet more guys,” Nita said, as if reading her thoughts.
“I’m too old for that nonsense,” Talia muttered, though she flashed a grateful smile at the waitress who delivered her a new drink. “I’m one step away from adopting a dozen cats and calling it a day. Men are too much hassle.”
Nita burst out laughing. “You’re ridiculous! You’re stunning, Tally. Too old? Thirty is practically a baby!”
“Thirty-two,” Talia corrected.
“Whatever!” Nita rolled her eyes. “You’re not ancient. You act like you’re ready for a retirement home.”
“Feels like it,” Talia whispered, wincing at the potency of her new drink. The waitress must’ve sensed her need for something stronger. She couldn’t argue with that she needed a miracle.
“Look, you just keep picking the wrong guys,” Nita said bluntly.
Talia shot her a glare. “Gee, you think? I work in a law office, Nita. I steer clear of those suited-up jerks. But every time I meet someone who seems halfway decent, he turns out to be a lying, cheating creep with a side of arrogance.”
Nita’s brows shot up. “Wearing a suit to work doesn’t mean you have to live like a nun. Let loose a little!” She sighed dramatically and jabbed a red-manicured finger at Talia. “You need to get laid. Properly.”
“Shush!” Talia hissed, glancing around as her cheeks flushed. A couple of young guys at a nearby table tossed winks their way, and she wanted to sink into the floor. “You’re going to get us thrown out.”
Nita giggled. “I’m trying to get you hooked.”
“I’d settle for a single decent date,” Talia muttered.
Nita shook her head. “No way. We’re thinking bigger. You need some serious action.”
“Nita!” Talia covered her face with one hand, mortified. “You’re making me sound like some desperate cougar.”
“Oh, please,” Nita said, waving her off. “You’re amazing, Tally. You shouldn’t be stressing about a date for a family event. You’re too good for that. Men should be begging to take you out.”
Talia snorted. With her nerdy glasses, untamed curls, curvier-than-average figure, and a personality that leaned toward snarky, she didn’t exactly see herself as a man-magnet. “You’ve had too much to drink,” she said, patting Nita’s hand. “But I’ll figure something out. Maybe I’ll ask Gerri for help. Who knows? She might actually pull it off.”
“I like Gerri,” Nita said, twirling the straw in her glass. “She’s kinda terrifying, though. I bet she could chew me up and spit me out, old lady or not. Good thing she likes you and me by extension because I’ve heard some wild stuff about those shifters.”
Talia grinned. Gerri was no ordinary grandma, but she was a gem. They bonded over their shared love of baking, trading cakes and cookies like it was their job. It was a delicious arrangement, even if it didn’t help Talia’s curves.
“Yeah,” Talia said, taking a swig of her drink. “Who’d have thought I’d be besties with a shifter grandma?”
Nita smirked. “Why not? She’s got that same sharp edge you do.”
“Gee, thanks,” Talia said, her tone dry as desert sand.
“It’s a compliment!” Nita raised her glass in a mock toast. “I’m sick of fake, bubbly types who hide how they really feel. You’re real, Tally. You’re not trying to be anyone else, and that’s why I adore you. You’re one of a kind.”