Power Drilled (Roommates, #8)(16)

I pulled out my phone and held it in my lap so it wouldn’t be obvious I was tuning everyone else out. I went straight to a social media site I’d spent a lot of time looking at last night—the Flip Trips’ channel. Just as Jackson had said, it was filled with all kinds of videos.

And just as I suspected, the triplets had a ton of fans. Surely not all of them were homebuyers, but there were plenty of examples of the guys selling a house they’d renovated just days after the Ten-Day Turnaround. No wonder they worked so hard during that time period—it obviously paid off for them.

Though I had the sound off, I pulled up the newest video, one that I’d taken myself just yesterday. Jackson had asked me to record some scenes of their demolition day, and I’d been happy to oblige. Then I edited it last night at my place. I got shots of Hunter wielding the sledgehammer, the powerful muscles in his back rippling as he moved. And then there was Reid measuring the spots where the old appliances had been in the kitchen. The shots of him with his tape measure weren’t as overtly sexy as the ones of Hunter, but there was something appealing about the look of concentration on his face.

Jackson was on the screen now, his expression dreamy as he looked around the large, empty living room and made sketches on a pad of paper. He’d kept his work angled away from the camera. But most viewers were probably more interested in his chiseled abs than his design.

The video turned out pretty well, if I did say so myself. Of course, that was probably because the triplets were so handsome and photogenic, but I’d worked hard to edit it and find the right music. Jackson had thanked me—and sent me an online payment—last night after I sent it to him.

“Oh good, you’re ready.”

I looked up to find my mom hovering over me. She set down a plate of brownies in front of me.

“Ready?”

“To make a video.”

For a bizarre moment, I thought she meant a video of the triplets. Then I remembered. Long before Jeff had ditched one bridesmaid for another, I’d agreed to interview family and friends and splice together a video for Claire and Matthew. The goal was to hear their advice and wishes for the happy couple. So far, I’d only talked with my parents and Aunt Denise.

Reluctantly, I got to my feet.

“Why don’t you start with Aunt Evelyn?” my mom suggested.

I frowned at the older woman in the corner who was apparently funding so much of the wedding. “She looks different.” Great Uncle Richard, who didn’t seem to be here, lived in Florida, so I didn’t see him very often. I’d only met his second wife, Evelyn, a time or two, but I didn’t remember her looking like this.

My mom’s face flushed, and she lowered his voice. “He divorced his second wife. This is his third one.”

“And she’s named Evelyn also?”

“Yes. Go talk to her. I bet she’ll have some good stories,” Mom urged.

I wasn’t so sure of that. “Does she even know Claire and Matthew?”

“She does now. And besides, she’s rich. Maybe she’ll pay for part of your wedding someday.”

“Mom!” I was so far from getting married that it seemed more likely that I’d become an astronaut before becoming a bride.

She put her arm around my shoulders. “I have high hopes for you, sweetie. But I am sorry your new man had to work today. What does he do that he has to work on a Saturday?”

“Everyone’s busy these days,” I said vaguely. I was vague every time someone asked about my supposed new boyfriend. So far, I’d managed to refrain from saying his name, his job, or anything about his looks. Luckily, no one other than my mom had pressed too hard. They knew how awful things had been for me since Jeff cheated and left me.

To keep my mom from asking anything else, I promised to go talk to Evelyn, and I was able to plot a course over to her table that didn’t take me anywhere near my ex.

“Mind if I sit down?” I asked the unfamiliar woman.

Aunt Evelyn smiled, and I was momentarily taken aback by the extremely bright maroon lipstick she was wearing. “I’d mind less if you grabbed us two glasses of champagne from that tray over there.”

The maroon smile returned as I dutifully brought over the glasses and sat down next to her.

Evelyn drained her glass in a matter of seconds and eyed me speculatively. “You’re a pretty girl. Are you in the wedding party?”

“Yes. I’m Penny. Claire’s my cousin.”

The older woman’s eyes lit up. “Ah, so you’re the one.”

There wasn’t much need for me to ask which one she was referring to. Hastily, I steered the conversation away from that. “So, how’s Great Uncle Richard?”

“He’s ill,” she said without missing a beat. “I had to leave him in Florida. But it’s okay. He hates weddings, whereas I love them. I’ve had four myself, so I ought to.”

“You’ve been married four times?” I wasn’t even sure I’d reach the altar once.

“So far,” she said with a wink. Her mascara was so thick that I was surprised she was able to get her eye all the way open again.

“Have you spent much time with Claire and Matthew?” I couldn’t imagine that was the case since I’d never met this woman, but it was a big family. There were definitely some parts of it I knew better than others.