Bridesmaid Undercover: An incredibly steamy, hilarious, friends to lovers, love triangle romantic comedy

Chapter 25



HARDY

Hardy: Hey Everly, how you doing? Stupid question, I know. You’re probably not happy with me and I get that, but as someone who isn’t afraid of rejection, I was hoping that maybe you would consider giving me a chance to explain myself to you. Do you think you could be open to that?

One day later…

Hardy:Yeah, I didn’t think you were going to want to talk to me. I get it. I’m not sure I would want to talk to me either. But if you would just give me a chance to explain everything so we can go back to being friends, I’d be really grateful.

Another day later…

Hardy:Okay, I know how that sounds—being friends after everything that happened that night—but I think that’s all we can be and, well, Christ, I’m messing this up too. I’m second guessing everything I say to you and making it all a mess. What I’m trying to say is that I miss you, Everly. Can you please just text me back, at least let me know that you’re okay?

Another day later…

Hardy:Everly, please, I need to talk to you. Just give me ten minutes, that’s all I need. Please.

Well, texting is not working. Moving on to plan B.

To: Everly Plum

From: Hardy Hopper

Subject: Party for PartnersBelongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

Hey Everly,

I know I’m bombarding you, but Hudson has informed me that I’m going to be working with you on a party that we’re throwing for some future partners. I’d love to meet up so we can discuss the details, and I’d also like the chance to properly apologize to you again.

I miss talking to you.

Let me know when and where works for you, and I’ll be there.

Thanks,

Henrietta—at least I still hope so.

To: Hardy Hopper

From: Everly Plum

Subject: RE: Party for Partners

Hardy,

Please send me your thoughts on the party—what you’re thinking for the menu, the drinks, and the setting. I have attached three of my top venues that might work, as well as one of Brody’s more moody pop-up shops for consideration.

I will need your thoughts no later than EOD. No need to meet. I can gather everything I need through email.

Everly

To: Everly Plum

From: Hardy Hopper

Subject: Please…

Everly,

I’d really like to go over the details in person. Please reconsider your thoughts on the matter. I want nothing more than to prove to you that I didn’t intend to hurt you.

I miss you.

Hardy

To: Hardy Hopper

From: JP Cane

Subject: Save the Pigeons

Dear friend,

It’s been a while since we last spoke. I’m afraid I’ve been busy with a lot of endeavors, but I will tell you one thing I’m never too busy for, and that’s saving the pigeons.

Recently, the pigeon adoption agency I’ve been working with has encountered some hardships with being short on staffing and foster homes, which is why I’m reaching out to you. Have you ever considered fostering a pigeon? Now is the time to give it some good thought. They are excellent companions, offer a great deal of entertainment, and are beautiful to look at.

We are looking for a few individuals with safe homes to take in a few of our pigeon friends. If you’re interested, please click here. Please open your heart and home and help us save the pigeons.

Your friend,

JP Cane

From my car,I stare at the Magical Moments by Maggie storefront and contemplate if I should go in or not.

I did drive all the way here with the intention of going inside the store, but now that I’m here, I’m second-guessing that decision. Because what am I really going to say to her? She asked me to leave, she’s ignored my text messages, and she denied me any meetup for the party we’re throwing together. She clearly—and understandably—doesn’t want me around, and I handled the entire situation completely wrong.

And yet, here I am with a box of matcha Oreo cronuts, ready to fucking beg her to forgive me.

If I’m going to try to win her back, to get her to listen to me, I’m going to have to go about this in a different way. Because here’s the thing, I think we all know I messed up the morning after. No, I didn’t just mess it up—I destroyed any possible hope of making that night magical.

I tainted it with my idiocy.

Therefore, if I walk into the office with a cheery disposition and say, “Hey Everly, guess what? Haisley said I can date you. So, when would you like to go out?” I think we all know that’s not going to go over well.

I think her exact words would be, “Oh, so your sister says we can date, so now it’s okay?”

See the mistake in there?

She doesn’t want permission.

She doesn’t want excuses.

She wants to be wanted, and that’s what I have to show her. She needs to know that I’ll never want another woman the way I want her.

She’s it for me.

That has become clearer with every day without her.

So, that’s why I grab the box of cronuts and head toward the storefront, knowing full well that this could go two ways. She could be excited to see my face but be upset—which is ideal because that I can work with. Or she could hate me with every fiber of her being and tell me to leave, only to toss the cronuts at my retreating back.

For some reason, I have a sinking feeling it’s going to be the latter.

When I reach the door, I open it and let myself in.

The space is quiet, and thankfully, it seems they don’t have any guests at the moment, so when I hear the telltale sound of high heels clicking across the cement floor, I steel my nerves.

It takes a second, but when Everly peeks around the corner, my breath gets caught up in my chest because fuck, it feels like it’s been months since I’ve seen her even though it’s been mere days.

And to my fucking surprise, her hair is down, curled into soft waves. Her hair is never down.

Ever.

So, it feels like she’s already got a leg up on me—well, I already knew she did, but this makes it drastically worse.

Not to mention, she’s wearing a simple purple dress that clings to her curves and black high heels that I know she hates wearing around the office. She’s put-together, beautiful as always, and looking razor sharp and ready to kill.

Ready to kill…me.

“Hardy,” she says flatly. “What are you doing here?”

Now’s the time to try to win her over, make her your friend again, man.

Woo her in any way possible.

Hand her the cronuts.

Sweeten her up first then go in for the kill.

“I brought you cronuts,” I say, holding out the box.

Her eyes fall to the box and then back up to me, completely unimpressed. “I don’t want your cronuts. Now if that’s all, I’m going to get back to work.” She turns on a dime and without another word, slips into her office.

Uhh…okay.

Wasn’t expecting that.

I thought the cronuts would at least soften her a touch.

Well, worst-case scenario, she takes the cronuts, kicks me in the shin and walks away. At least if she accepted the cronuts, she’d think about me writhing on the floor while eating them.

Knowing this probably isn’t a good idea—going into the bear’s den—I continue forward and walk up to her office door. Without knocking, I let myself in and find her sitting behind her desk, staring at her computer screen.

“It’s worrisome that you don’t know how to take no for an answer,” she says as she keeps her eyes trained on the screen in front of her.

“You forgot to take the cronuts.”

She continues to type. “I told you I don’t want them.”

“Afraid they’re poisoned?” I ask. “Because for future reference, that’s not my brand.”

“No, I don’t want to accept your pity cronuts.”

“They’re not pity cronuts,” I say, getting slightly frustrated. I don’t pity her.

I like her…a lot. And I need her to see that.

“I don’t have time for this, Hardy. I have a lot on my to-do list, and that list doesn’t include listening to you try to come up with another explanation for what happened the other night.”

Well…fuck.

This is going to be a lot harder than I thought, and with that last comment from her, I feel my nice guy persona slipping.

I want to woo her. I want to show her how much I want her, how much I need her in my life, and I’m not sure this soft, loving approach is going to work, not when she’s matching my energy with a frosty bite.

I think…fuck, I think I’m going to have to step it up to the same energy.

I might have to fight ice with fire. I guess there’s only one way to find out.

I set the cronuts down on her desk. “I brought you something, so the kind thing to do would be to accept it.”

She sits back in her chair and picks up a pen before meeting my eyes. “Are you really going to lecture me about being kind?”

The bite in my voice must have caught her attention. Hell, I think I might be onto something. Not the approach I’d usually want to take, but at least she’s looking at me, engaging with me.

“When you need it, yeah.”

“What I need is for you to leave.”

Not going to happen. I see the challenge in her eyes. If she wants to play games, I’ll play, because I will do just about anything to get her to talk to me, even if it’s like this.

So, despite her, I take a seat in front of her desk and get comfortable.

Her eyes narrow, and it’s almost comical to see her like this.

Putting up a front.

Slipping out of her professional self and showing me her true colors. I fucking like it, even though I shouldn’t.

That sass and spice is on full display and only makes me want her that much more.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks.

“Getting comfortable. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Being a nuisance,” she says. “I told you to leave.”

“Yeah, and last time I listened to you, I ended up not hearing from you, so I think I’m good with just sitting here until you want to talk.”

“Fine, then I’ll leave,” she says as she stands from her chair and walks around her desk, attempting to move past me.

Big mistake on her part.

Before I decided to dip into this battle of wills, I would have let her walk by and just followed her, but the approach has changed. The heat has turned up, and there is only one way to win this…

Before she can retreat, I grab her wrist, stopping her in place and forcing her to pause.

With a turn of my head, I drag my eyes up her arm to her face. She’s looking down at me as if she can’t believe I’m holding her back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Taking a chance, I rub my thumb over her wrist, wanting to warm her frosty exterior. And from the way her lips part, I can’t tell if she’s insulted that I’d even consider touching her or if it’s the right move.

“Sit down, Everly,” I say sternly.

“Do really think that tone is going to work on me?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Let’s see.” And then I tug on her hand, throwing her off balance, and guiding her onto my lap.

“What the hell, Hardy,” she says in shock. She whips her head around, her hair brushing up against me right before her eyes fall to mine. “What are you doing?”

“I told you to sit down, and when you don’t listen, I have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Jesus, you don’t own me.”

“Not what you said the other night,” I say, causing her mouth to fall open in shock. Yup, this is the right approach. At least I’m garnering a reaction from her. I can work with this. I can slowly soften her this way.

“Not once did I say you owned me.”

“You didn’t have to say it,” I reply. “Your moans did all the talking for you.”

Her eyes narrow. “Yeah, well, I faked it.”

That makes my head fall back as a guttural laugh flies out of my mouth. “There is no way in hell you faked that.”

“Don’t give yourself so much credit. It’s easy to fake it.”

“Says the girl whose pussy clenched around my cock so hard that you made me black out.”

“It’s called Kegels,” she says in defiance.

“Bullshit,” I say. “Don’t even try to lie to me.” I run my hands up her hips to her sides as I softly say, “There was nothing fake about the way you kissed me, the way you sucked me off, the way you screamed out my name, and the way your slick, wet pussy contracted around my cock.”

She twists her lips to the side as I move my hand up even higher, just below her breasts.

“Just like right now,” I whisper. “There’s nothing fake about the way you’re reacting, the way your breath is hitching, the way your eyes try to avoid mine because you know if you look at me, you’ll be tempted. You want me, Everly. You just wish that you didn’t.”

Not sure how pushing her buttons is going to pay off, but she’s still on my lap and despite my loosened grip, she hasn’t attempted to stand or walk away.

After a few short seconds, she finally says, “You were a decent fuck, Hardy. That’s all it will ever be.”

Not going to lie and say that didn’t sting, but I also am well aware of the wall she’s erected between us—the one protecting her from getting hurt one more time—that means she’ll say and do anything to keep me at a distance. It’s my job to tear down that wall brick by brick, until I reach the point where I can tell her what Haisley said. Until then I will use any means necessary to woo her.

“Just decent?” I say. “Hmm, interesting, because you came back for seconds.”

“Because you didn’t satisfy me the first time,” she says. “Thought that maybe I could try again.”

I chuckle—the lie is so ridiculous, it’s the only reaction I can muster.

“Uh-huh, and what happened that second time?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Like I said, decent.” And then she turns away from me so her back is to my chest. I take that moment to place my hand on her stomach and pull her back against me. I wait for her to try to lift off my lap because I would let her. I would let her get up. I’m not about to hold her back against her will, but when she doesn’t make the attempt, I know I’ve got her.

She might have erected that wall as high as she can make it, but she can’t deny the fact that she still wants me. That she feels the attraction pulsing between us and wants to indulge.

And if that’s the way to get her to talk, then that’s what is going to have to happen.

“Maybe I need to prove to you that I’m more than decent,” I say as I move my other hand down her leg, to the hem of her dress and then slip it under. I pause, waiting for her to stop me, but she doesn’t. So, I drag my hand up farther, pulling the tight hem with me until it’s up and around her waist. I run my hand over her inner thigh, letting my thumb drag over the seam of her underwear. That elicits a small, almost silent gasp from her.

“Say the word, Everly, and I’ll stop,” I whisper.

But she doesn’t.

She stays silent, just the sound of her labored breath filling the air.

So, I take that as the green light to keep going as she leans back against my shoulder, and I know in this moment, I’ve got her. So, I slip my other hand under her dress and drag it up to her breasts. When I notice that she has another front-clasp bra on, I smile to myself as I unclasp it, letting it fall open. She shifts her body, her hips lifting up against my hardening length. Once again, she softly groans—a sound I’ve committed to memory.

I’ve missed this. I know I only had her for one night, but that was enough. That was all it took to know that I was going to need so much more. And right now, it’s just solidifying that idea in my head.

“I’ve missed these tits,” I say as I cup both breasts, feeling the weight in my palms and growing even harder.

I swipe my thumbs over her already hard nipples and love how she moans from the touch, so I decide in that moment to tease her. Since her neck is exposed, I press a few soft kisses to her skin and to my surprise, she moves her head to the side, giving me more access, and as I run my mouth up and down the column of her neck, I draw slow circles around her nipples. It’s a whisper of a touch, so gentle that the only thing it’s doing is ramping up her need for me to deepen it.

When I find her jaw with my lips, I kiss closer to her mouth, but she doesn’t turn in my direction, and I’m not going to force her to kiss me. I want her to give in willingly like she has with the rest of this position, so I bring my lips back to her ear and whisper, “Are you wet?”

I catch her bite down on her bottom lip, keeping her mouth quiet, not wanting to give away exactly how turned on she is.

“I bet if I slipped my hand between your legs, I’d find out.”

Her chest rises and falls more rapidly, and her legs spread just an inch. If I wasn’t paying attention, I might not have seen it, but I’m reading her like a book. She doesn’t want to seem desperate, but she wants it. She wants me.

I go back to kissing her neck, sucking on the juncture near her shoulder, and when I lightly nibble on her skin, I take that moment to pinch her nipples.

“Oh fuck,” she says, shifting against my erection and causing me to smile.

So, I repeat the sensation. I nibble and pinch.

Nibble and pinch.

Driving up that need for me until her hand grips the back of my neck and she starts rocking her ass over my erection.

Fuck.

Me.

I grind my teeth together, telling myself this isn’t about me; this is about her.

But shit, that feels so good.

Everything about this feels good.

It feels right.

It feels like this is where she belongs, and I need to prove that to her.

Focusing on her, I start circling her nipples again and with every circle, I make one pass over them, loving how sensitive she is.

After a few more swipes, I drag one hand down to her pubic bone. While I bring one of her nipples between my fingers, rolling it, I slide a finger over her underwear and down her slit. It’s a quick pass, but it’s just enough to feel her arousal through the fabric and to garner a moan from her.

Smiling, I drag my hand back up her stomach, letting the tips of my fingers create a burning need within her.

When I start circling her nipples again, she grinds against me and whispers, “Fuck.” Then, she spreads her legs wider, and I smile to myself.

“Where do you want my fingers, Everly?” I ask her while passing them over her chest, up to her collarbone, and across her breasts again. “Do you want them here?” I play with her nipples. Her breathing turns even heavier. “Or here.” I drag them across her stomach. “Or here,” I say as I dance them across the waistline of her underwear.

When she doesn’t answer, I say, “Well, I guess you want them up here.” I start to move my hand, but she stops me and slips my hand under her underwear and right to her soaking arousal. “Fuck, Everly,” I whisper. “You’re so goddamn wet.”

Again, she keeps her mouth closed but when she encourages my hand to play with her, I listen. I bring two fingers to her clit, making slow circles over the sensitive nub.

“Yes,” she whispers before lifting my other hand to her breast. I bring her nipple between two of my fingers and start rolling it.

“You going to fake it again this time?” I ask her. “You going to pretend like you’re wet for no reason? That you’re not turned on by me? That I didn’t bring you to this point?” When she doesn’t answer, I say, “Because I can stop.”

And I do just that. I pause my hands.

“Don’t,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t stop.”

“Ahh, so this is real. The orgasm that’s building inside of you, it’s real.” When she doesn’t say anything, I whisper in her ear, “Answer me, Everly.”

“It’s…it’s real,” she says.

I continue circling her clit as her pants grow heavier. “And the other night, when I was deep inside of you, bottoming out with every goddamn stroke, that was real.”

She wets her lips and nods.

“No, I want to hear you say it. That was real.”

She threads her hand through the short hairs on the back of my neck. “It was real.”

“And when your tight pussy contracted around my cock, that was real.”

“It…it was all real,” she answers.

“Good, never lie about that again,” I say as I remove my hand from her underwear, causing her to cry out in frustration.

But I’m not done with her. I lift her off my lap and push her back onto her desk so she’s leaning back. Her keyboard crashes to the ground, but I don’t care as I reach for her underwear and pull it off. For a moment, I consider unzipping my pants and taking what I so desperately want, but I maintain control and spread her, kneel on the floor, and bring my mouth between her legs.

With one swipe of my tongue, she’s trembling. So, I spread her even more and suck on her clit.

“Oh my God,” she says as her feet, still in their high heels, land on my shoulders. “Oh fuck, Hardy.”

That’s it. That’s my girl. That’s what I want to hear.

I roll her nipple again while I make short, tight flicks with my tongue over her clit.

Her legs squeeze around my head.

Her breathing becomes erratic.

And her body starts to shake as her pelvis tenses.

She’s right there.

So I keep flicking.

And flicking.

And flicking until she tugs on my hair and then with one last flick, she’s moaning and coming on my face. I let her ride my tongue, seeking out every ounce of her orgasm and, when she finally starts to slow down and gain her composure, I lift back up to my feet and lower her legs.

When her heady eyes meet mine, I feel a pull in the pit of my stomach, a pull so great that I know she’s not done. She wants more.

I want to keep this about her, but I think…I think she needs that connection between us. I think she needs to know how out of control she makes me feel.

How she in fact owns every aspect of me.

So, keeping my eyes on her, I pull my wallet out of my pocket and secure a condom. I grip it between my teeth while I undo my pants. I watch her intently the entire time, making sure she doesn’t give me a sign that she doesn’t want this. But she never does. Instead, she wets her lips and watches me take my cock out of my briefs and sheath it with the condom.

Ready, I move in closer and take one of her legs by the ankle where I press a kiss along her already heated skin and then prop it up against my shoulder, opening her up more to me.

Hand on my cock, I press the tip to her entrance, waiting to see if she stops me. But when her teeth roll over the corner of her mouth, I take that as a green light from her and slide all the way inside of her.

Her head falls back on a moan while I bottom up, grinding my teeth together from just how perfect she feels wrapped around me.

Nothing has ever felt better.

Fucking nothing.

And I need to let her know that.

“You’re…fuck, Everly, you’re perfect.”

I grip her hips, my fingers digging into her skin as I begin to rock in and out of her. Her pussy is still slick from her orgasm, which makes our connection that much more electric, because I know I brought her to that place and I’m going to bring her there again.

“So good…so fucking good,” I grind out as my hips start to pulse faster. I look her in the eyes and catch her staring up at me, so I take that moment to say, “I’m addicted to you. I need this…you.” Then I pull out, lift her hips and drive back in.

Her head falls back, and a feral moan falls past her lips.

“This pussy is mine, Everly.”

Her eyes meet mine again, and when I think she’s going to deny me that claim, she doesn’t. Instead, she releases her leg from my shoulder and then pulls away. I’m about to protest until she flips her body, so her stomach is resting on the desk and her ass is propped up, waiting for me.

“Fuck,” I grumble as I smooth my hand over the round globe.

I kick her legs apart, giving me better access, prop my cock at her entrance and then slide right back in. When I’m fully inside, to the hilt, I glide my hand up her back and right to her undone hair. I gather it together with one hand and then twirl it with my fist, making her head slightly bend back. I lean forward and with my other hand, I gently run it up her exposed neck and I press a light kiss to her cheek and whisper, “This pussy…is…mine.”

I want her to know that.

I need her to know that.

And she seems to understand, because there’s no protest as I stand back up and hold onto her hair as I stroke in and out of her, letting my body take in every tug and pull from her constricting walls.

It feels all too perfect.

Every aspect of having sex with her.

Like I finally found the missing piece to my life. She’s been sitting there all along, writing emails to me, laughing with me, showing me that it’s not Maple I want, but her. It’s been her all along.

It’s been this connection.

It’s been me and her.

And I’ll be damned if I let her slip through my fingers.

As I pick up my pace, letting her sweet moans fill my mind, fill my memory, I say, “It’s you and me, Everly.”

I pump into her.

“You and fucking me.”

My hips fly, my thighs slamming against her legs.

“I want nothing else.”

My muscles fire off, my orgasm building.

“Just you…”

I pump even harder, her body stiffening beneath me.

“And me.”

Her hands claw at the desk to anchor herself as her walls start to constrict around me.

“Fuck, Everly. Give me this…give me you.”

I release her hair, letting her head fall against her chest as I grip both her hips now, angle her up, and rapidly drive into her. Her desk shakes, the pens in her pen cup rattle, and papers on her desk fly off from the sheer momentum we’re producing.

“Fuck,” she whispers, her hands curling.

“Come for me, Everly. I know you want to.”

“God,” she mutters as her back arches. “Fuck…fuck…” She pounds the desk with her fist, almost in frustration, right before she lets out a loud cry and her body spasms beneath me, her pussy clenching around my cock in one large wave as I pulse inside her, catching her orgasm just at the right time to send me into a frenzy.

I feel my hips take over as my mind blacks out.

I thrust harder…deeper…my orgasm tiptoeing up my back until it clutches around me, seizing me.

I still as I roar out my pleasure, my cock swelling right before I spill inside of her.

“Fuck, Everly,” I say as I catch my breath, my body trying to come back down to Earth, but that feels impossible as her pussy continues to lightly clench around my cock.

It takes us a few seconds, but when we’re both settled, I remove myself from her, pull off my condom and place it in her trashcan. I adjust myself back into my pants and when she tries to sit up, I stop her.

Instead, I grab her thong from the floor and slide it back up her legs. “I’ll let you keep these this time, but next time, they’re mine.”

After I adjust her dress, and she sits up, turning to face me, I catch her heady eyes. “Who says there will be a next time?”

Did I wish this would have fixed our problems? Yes.

Did I know it was a slim chance? Absolutely.

But that doesn’t mean it’s not the first step. She wants to be desired and wanted. Well, what we just did showed exactly that.

I smirk and take her hands in mine before helping her up to a standing position. I straighten out her dress for her and then tip her chin up with one finger. Moving in close, I whisper, “If I have anything to say about it, there will be a next time.” And then I press a soft kiss to her lips.

It’s short, but it’s just enough to hold me over.

I step away and head to her office door. I’m about to tell her to enjoy the cronuts when she follows me with the box. “You’re forgetting these.”

“They’re yours, Everly.”

“I don’t want them.”

“So, you’ll take the orgasms but not the cronuts?”

Her eyes narrow. “What game are you playing, Hardy?”

“I’m not playing any game—you’re the one being difficult.”

“Difficult?” she says with a raised voice. “You’re the one who hurt me and then you just come in here thinking you can…you can play around with me and make everything better?”

“I don’t, actually,” I say as I turn to face her. “I came here to show you what you mean to me. What I did the other morning was not only wrong, but pretty much unforgiveable, I get that. But I’m not too proud to make sure you know that I’m sorry, because I am. And that I want you, because I do. The cronuts were a gift, the orgasms were to help you feel just as desired and worthy as you deserve.” I want to tell her that the orgasms were to thaw out her iciness, but I understand that she’s in self-protection mode. Still, she needs to know I’m not done. “Maybe next time I run into you, you won’t be as icy.”

Then with that, I walk out of her office with the taste of her still on my tongue and another plan brewing in my mind.

Hardy:Can you invite Everly to your wedding? I know it’s last minute, but maybe say you need help with something.

Polly: What did you do?

Hardy: Let’s just say the morning after wasn’t my finest moment.

Polly: Oh Hardy.

Hardy: I know, okay? I don’t need to hear it. I’ve already beaten myself up about the whole thing. I need some help and I would really appreciate it if you could get Everly to the wedding. Maybe she can be a second bridesmaid.

Polly: You know, George, Ken’s cousin, was bitching the other day about not being a groomsman.

Hardy:Perfect, add him to the mix and then hire Everly, I’ll pay for it. Does she need a dress? I’ll pay for that too.

Polly: Maple is just wearing a formal black dress, so Everly can do the same.

Hardy:Great! Then it works.

Polly:For you, but now I have to explain to the moms why I’m changing things two days before the wedding.

Hardy:Want me to talk to them?

Polly: No! You’ve done enough.

Hardy: Ooo, I have an idea!

Polly: Oh God, what now?

Hardy: Can you pull together a shopping trip for a dress tomorrow? Have her meet you, tell me where to go, and then say you need to leave, so I’ll help her instead.

Polly: Do you want her to hate me?

Hardy: Please, Polly. **insert puppy eyes** Please. Please. Please.

Polly: Can you enlighten me? How does this benefit me?

Hardy:I’ll throw in a few excursions for free on your honeymoon. You choose, I’ll cover the cost.

Polly: Now we’re getting somewhere.


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