What’s wrong with that picture?” Daphanie pushed her blonde hair from her eyes. Zoe hated her, not because she was beautiful, but because Daphanie Dixon was the thorn in her side. Zoe’s mother, Valerie Chase-Starks-Banks and soon to be Proctor, was getting ready for marriage number four—at least she would be by Saturday. She had refused to take her first husband’s last name in any way, shape, or form, which was probably a good thing seeing as though they weren’t married long. This time her mother was marrying rich, handsome, and incredibly young, Darin Proctor. Darin was Zoe’s age—thirty-two, and ironically, he had been interested in her until he met her mother. Zoe felt a twinge of panic hit her. Her mother was her competition and she didn’t even know it until it was too late. Good old mom would probably be on marriage number five by Christmas and mister perfectly tanned and gorgeous Darin Proctor would be old news. It wasn’t that she was jealous of Valerie, who had insisted since Zoe was six that she never call her mom; she was embarrassed of her.
