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Overcome with emotion, she reached up and hugged me tightly. “I don’t even know what to say that will do this gesture justice, except that I will proudly wear this forever.”
Taking her bejeweled hand in mine, I kissed it hard. “Now, let’s go have some fun.”We were right on time for the noon appointment I’d made at the posh boutique. The owner took Bianca upstairs to look at their selection of garments. I’d told the woman to pull all of the white dresses in the place before Bianca’s arrival. Since this wasn’t an actual wedding—just a celebration—I suggested she bring out more casual dresses as opposed to formal evening gowns. But the choice was Bianca’s. My only condition was that I wanted to see her in white. You know…just in case this was all we would have.
Much to my dismay, they wouldn’t allow me upstairs in the all-female dressing area. I waited down on the lower level, mindlessly flipping through the pages of a bridal magazine and talking to the pictures inside.
“Bianca’s way prettier.”
Flip.
“Dude, would you still marry her if there was a chance she could be your sister? Not an easy decision, is it?”
Flip.
“Oh, what’s this? A facial is a great way to relax on the morning of your wedding? Well, I couldn’t agree more.”
I closed the magazine suddenly when my eyes caught Bianca slowly making her way down the winding staircase. The sight of her in the dress she’d chosen took my breath away. But what made my heart want to combust even more was the huge smile plastered all over her face. It was so full of hope and optimism, beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time.
Good idea, Dex. This was a good way to help take her mind off things.
I prayed that nothing would ever happen to take that smile away.
“You look stunning.”
With a humble expression, she looked down at herself. “It’s simple. I didn’t want to go overboard. This one just felt right.”
The dress Bianca had chosen was strapless, fitted at the waist, and flaring out at the bottom just above her knees.
“It’s perfect.”
“Get this...” She smiled. “Guess what the name of this design is?”
“The dresses have names?”
“Yes.” She laughed. “This one is called La Bandita.”
A wide grin spread across my face. “Bandit Boy is here in spirit. I love that.”
“Thank you for this experience. It was very Pretty Woman.”
“I could never repay you for what you’ve given me.” I leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her lips.
She stretched out her arms. “So, I’m all dressed up. Where to next?”
“You’ll have to wait to find out.” I winked.
Driving away in our rented convertible, I felt high on life. Bianca’s hair was blowing in the warm wind. Our hands were interlocked.
Pulling up in front of our destination, I had to parallel park. Whether the car would actually fit into the space was questionable, but I slid it right in.
“You have mad parking skills, Truitt.”
“It was tight, but I managed to get it in. By the good grace of God, you’ll find out more where that’s concerned soon enough.” I winked.
“Always the dirty mind,” she chuckled. “And for the record, I certainly hope you’re right.” Bianca finally noticed that we’d parked in front of a bakery. “Is this where we have cake?”
“Yes. But not just one cake. We’re gonna taste many different kinds.”
“You set up a wedding cake tasting?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Don’t you have to commit to ordering one in order to do that?”
“Probably. So, I’ll order one and have them deliver it to my father.”
“That’ll be real good for his heart,” she said sarcastically.
“Okay, how about this? I’ll put down a deposit, and we’ll order it to be made a year from now. If all goes well, we come back down and pick up our cake.”
She reached for my hand. “That sounds like a plan.”
Ganache Patisserie smelled like an explosion of sugar with a hint of amaretto. Multi-tiered cakes of various pastel colors were displayed in glass cases.
A woman greeted us and took Bianca and me into a back room. She poured us some tea and laid out several slices of cake on the table.
“You can sample them in any order. There’s a pad of paper and a pen you can use to rate each flavor. They’re all labeled. Hopefully, you can come to a unanimous decision in the end.”
“Do couples actually bicker about which flavor to choose?” Bianca asked.
“Oh, yes. You’d be surprised how much bargaining goes into this. You have the option to choose different flavors for each layer, though. There are typically three. So, you can always compromise.”
Bianca and I began sampling. We were having a blast feeding each other, and it brought back memories of my first date with her as Jay at the Ethiopian place. I’d dip my finger in the frosting then rub it on her nose. I think we made the woman uncomfortable. I could only imagine how awkward she would have felt if she also knew the truth about what was really going on with us. She finally got up to give us a bit of privacy.
