Elizabeth Lynn Casey - Southern Sewing Circle 10 - Wedding Duress - Plot & Excerpts
two . . . three . . . four . . . Leona,” Tori said as she pulled to a stop outside the condo Leona shared with her long-eared, nose-twitching daughter, Paris. Like the four units to its right, and the single unit to its left, the brick face of Leona’s building was a ruddy red color with wide steps leading to the half-glass/half-mahogany front door. Tori knew the interior layout well, including the narrow staircase that had all but sealed the fate on Leona’s decision to take in her aging mother. Yet the fact that the sewing circle’s current arch enemy had even offered had to say something about Leona’s underlying spirit, didn’t it? “Stop it, Tori,” she mumbled. “Stop trying to plead Leona’s case. She got herself into this mess and it’s her job to get herself out.” It was the same mantra she’d told herself throughout the day as call after call went unanswered, and neither Margaret Louise nor Debbie seemed to care.
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