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“What are you guys doing?” I ask no one in particular. “No one’s worn hot pink to a wedding since the eighties.”
Callie flicks her brown hair over her shoulder and chuckles. “Don’t be silly, woman. We’re not wearing any of these to your wedding.”
I cock an eyebrow at her. “Then, what are you doing?”
“Don’t you remember prom dress shopping?” Callie slides her hands onto her narrow hips, giving me a knowing look. “Have I taught you nothing? You try on the ugliest ones first, take pics for Insta and Snap, and then save the winners for last.”
How could I forget prom? I was hoping Nate would ask me to go with him. For months, I had planned the exact dress I would wear. I envisioned our first kiss, our first everything.
“Dress montage,” Lola yells, throwing her arms above her head. “Jules, get your phone out. You’re on Snap duty.”
My friends post their entire lives on Snapchat and Instagram, but for them, it’s also an occupational hazard. It’s not the same in my line of work. I keep my personal life out of the view of the media. The less they know about the heirs of Queen Takes King, the better.
“No way,” Jules protests. “I want to try them on, too.”
“Just do it,” Lola groans. “And make sure my ass looks hot.” Jules frowns, and Lola blows her a kiss. “I’ll switch places with you in five, ‘kay?”
“Yeah, whatever, bitch,” Jules jokes as she reaches into her purse for her cell phone. “Start with the puke green ones.” She points at the dresses in the middle of the pile. “They’re the worst.”
“Yeah, right.” Callie holds up the ugliest yellow dress I’ve ever seen. “This one takes the cake.”
Amelia grabs it from her hand, looking at herself in the long mirror with a wicked smile. “We’ll look like bananas in this dress.”
“Ooh,” Lola says, grabbing two more dresses, both of them the foulest shade of red that almost looks like dried blood. “I love that idea. We can be fruits.”
“More like fruit cakes,” I quip.
Lola sticks her tongue out at me. “Shut it, Bridezilla.”
“Ha! I know you’re not talking about me.”
“You’re being a stick up the ass.” Lola tips her head toward the dresses. “Grab a few and come play with us.”
“Love it,” Amelia says, shoving a bridesmaid dress at my chest. “Try this one on first.”
“Wait… what about my dress?”
Lola waves her hand. “I got you covered, babe. We’re meeting Dante Drake at his studio. He’ll have your dream wedding gown ready for the runway before we leave for the Bahamas.”
“I have to tell you guys something,” I say, hoping they won’t get mad. “You’re not going to like it.”
All of their heads snap in my direction.
“Nate asked Reid Grayson to be in our wedding.”
The air along with the energy gets zapped from the room.
“What?” Jules booms. “No, not Reid.”
“Are you kidding me?” Callie asks, annoyed as she looks over at Jules.
Amelia bites her lip. “How many ways can you spell awkward?”
Lola chuckles. “I guess we better try harder not to get fired before the wedding.”
Confused, I narrow my eyes at her. “Why would you get fired?”
“Because Jules keeps pissing Reid off,” Callie explains. “He calls her into his office at least once a day.”
“That’s because he likes her,” Lola challenges. “He’s got a major boner for our Date Diva.”
“He does not,” Jules protests. “That man is so… infuriating.”
“Nate asked me to pair Jules and Reid together,” I confess.
“Nooo…” Jules grits her teeth. “I can’t stand him. He’s such an arrogant asshole. We’ll kill each other by the end of the night.”
“You like him,” Callie says in a songlike voice. “Just admit it, babe.”
“Never,” Jules shoots back.
“Jules got into a little fight with Reid the first time we met him,” Amelia says at my side.
I lean in, curious. “What happened?”
“Callie almost got her ass kicked by some lunatic with brass knuckles,” she continues.
“In my defense,” Callie says, raising her finger. “I didn’t know that guy had a girlfriend.”
Jules waves her hand dismissively and snorts. “You were on the prowl that night. I doubt you even bothered to ask him before you shoved your tongue in his mouth.”
“Anyway,” Amelia says, ignoring them. “Reid offered us a ride home in his limo. I didn’t realize it was Gray until we were on our way home.”
Only those close to Reid Grayson call him Gray. Most of us have run in the same circles for years. It’s hard not to in this town.
“That sounds like a fun night,” I say with laughter in my voice. “A typical night out with the Market House girls.”
“Not quite,” Jules says. “Reid’s had it in for me ever since. He wishes he could fire me and lets me know every chance he gets, which is more often than you would think.”
