Read Always A Bridesmaid (Left At the Altar) for Free Online

offered. "A salad maybe?"
    "Yes, that would be lovely, Adele," Chantal said with a smile. "Make sure to put lots of raw vegetables in the salad and serve it with an oil and vinegar dressing. Extra virgin olive oil, please."
    "I'll have mine with a ranch dressing on the side please, Adele," Margaret chimed in.
    "I'll see what I can do," Adele said drily.
    "We're not running a bloody restaurant here," Camp said. "You can eat what's on the table."
    Adele touched his arm. "It's all right, Camp. I've got a salad prepared in the fridge. I meant it for tomorrow, but I can always make something else. Now that I know of Chantal and Margaret's special dietary requirements, I can plan accordingly."
    She pulled away from the table and headed to the kitchen. Dani glanced to her left and saw the angry set of Zach's jaw and the fist he clenched in his lap. She slipped her hand into his, hoping to lend comfort, or at least to keep him from lunging across the table and throttling Chantal. When her hand touched his, he started slightly, and quickly turned to look at her, surprise in his eyes. She gave him a quick smile, and a slight roll of her eyes that she hoped no one else at the table noticed. He squeezed her hand, one corner of his mouth turning up in a brief smile.
    Camp completed filling everyone else's plate. A moment later Adele arrived from the kitchen with two salad plates.
    "I knew you could do it," Margaret said as she chewed on a piece of lettuce. "I always said you were Wonder Woman."
    Dani noticed that neither woman bothered to thank Adele or to apologize for the inconvenience. Had Chantal always been this self-centered? There'd been a time when she had idolized her. She'd been so beautiful and vivacious that everyone had flocked to her. Chantal had made a point of introducing her to her friends, and Dani had reciprocated by helping her with her homework, even writing essays for her. The Chantal she knew back then had her foibles, but she was kind and generous to her friends. Had she really changed that much?
    Dani felt the conversation lag. Time for a new topic. "Jonathan, do live you here in Toronto?"
    "Yes. I've got a condo on the waterfront."
    "That sounds nice. Do you have a view of the water?"
    "Well, a tiny view. If I look out my bedroom window between the two condos next to me, I can just make out a sliver of Lake Ontario."
    "That beats the view from my bedroom window--my neighbor's brick wall. Where do you work?"
    "I'm a nurse at Sick Kids Hospital."
    "Good for you," she said, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. He certainly didn't look like any of the nurses she knew, especially since all of them were female.
    "I don't know how he does it," Fiona said. "I think if I saw so many sick children, I'd be in tears most of the time."
    "The majority of kids receive treatment for their problem, and go home healthy and happy. Thankfully, it's only a small minority who don't. I'm just glad to do my part to help the ones we can."
    "My brother is being modest," Todd said. "I'd challenge any football player or any construction worker to be as mentally tough as he has to be every day."
    "He's a regular St. Jonathan." Chantal gave him a mocking salute with her water glass.
    "That's me." Jonathan saluted her back with his own glass. "Mother Theresa, St. Francis of Assisi and Florence Nightingale all in one package."
    They all laughed at his self-deprecating joke. Still, Dani was impressed. She didn't know many men who worked as nurses, especially with kids. She imagined it took a special kind of person.
    She picked up her fork and finished her dinner. When everyone had completed the main course, Adele cleared the plates. A few moments later she brought out individual lemon tarts and placed one in front of Dani. She lifted her dessert fork and took a bite. The fresh taste of lemon exploded in her mouth. The pastry was light and flakey and delectable. She hadn't allowed herself anything this decadent for a very long time. She