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ONE
EVERLEIGH
The price tagon the wedding dress was fifty thousand dollars, but that wasn’t what made me feel like I was going to barf up my salmon salad. My stomach churned because of the woman inside all those layers of tulle. Plastering a fake smile on my face took all of my energy and my patience was drawing thin – thinner than the gold digger in the dress.
“I wish this was your fitting.” I elbowed Ali, my brother’s fiancée.
But Alison, the sweetest woman in the world, ignored my comment and smiled at my future stepmother. I was sure that she was of the evil variety. I just hadn’t been able to prove it – yet.
“I like that one the best,” Alison said.
The gold digger turned and trailed her nails down the edges of the veil. I looked up from scrolling through my phone and tried not to roll my eyes. “It’s a little…”
Marisa raised her eyebrows. She was smart like a dump truck and hadn’t clued in to the fact that I didn’t approve of her engagement to my father. But I had promised my dad that I would play nice, and for the past few months I’d been putting on an Oscar-worthy performance.
“A little what?” she asked. Her engagement ring looked like it weighed down her entire hand as she dropped the veil. Luckily, my mom’s engagement ring wasn’t on that woman’s finger. It was on Alison’s.
“White.” I continued scrolling through my messages. Fall training was about to start and there were so many things that needed to be organized. The last place I needed to be was sitting in that stupid bridal boutique, pretending to be excited that my father was, yet again, marrying some bimbo.
Alison inhaled sharply beside me. She was new to the King family and was very diplomatic when it came to her future stepmother-in-law. “I think what Everleigh is trying to say is that the ivory one looked a little more glamorous and is perfect for a winter wedding.”
The saleswoman, a sophisticated woman in her fifties, gave us a knowing nod. “Your face lit up in the dress by Varnation Rose. It’s more of a showstopper.”
Marisa nodded and stared at herself in the mirror. “That’s what I’m going for – showstopper.”
Alison smiled, and instead of groaning, I shifted in the chair, drained the champagne, and put my negotiation skills to work. In my opinion, the low-cut Varnation was the trashier option, and therefore much better suited to the gold digging ex-weather girl. “The Varnation was alright.” I shrugged, knowing that my indifference to the gown would make it more appealing to her. “But it’s ten thousand dollars more, so I don’t think it’s in the budget.” That ought to do it. It was a smug thought, but I didn’t care.
“Can I try the Varnation Rose on one more time?” Marisa asked.
Predictable. Sales strategy 101 is to take something away from someone. It just makes them want it more. And dollars were what mattered to Marisa.
While she changed into the dress with the plunging neckline and sheer back that almost showed her butt crack, I tapped out a few emails to my assistant, Greg.
Ali waited for me to finish, then gave me an amused look. “You were better than I thought you’d be.” The wry smile on her face made me smile back.
“Oh, trust me. That was the ultimate feat of willpower.” Snarky comments had been rushing through my mind quicker than the fastest slap shot in the league, which happened to belong to my brother. “At least we got her out of the Vera Wang. That dress was way too classy for her.”
Alison took a deep breath. “Everleigh, I thought that the low cut one looked nice.”
“Nice if you’re trashy. And if the dress fits…”
“There’s the Everleigh I know and love.” Alison’s eyes darted over my shoulder. “Shhh. Marisa’s coming back. Be nice.”
The salesperson had been surprised that the only people attending the fitting were from the groom’s side, and to most people that would’ve been a red flag. But Marisa’s estranged daughter, Hannah, lived in Europe, and other than her, Marisa didn’t have any women close enough to her to be in the bridal party. So Alison and I had been ‘voluntold’ that we were going to be walking down the aisle as bridesmaids.
Trusting people, especially women, was not my strong suit. My strengths lied in protecting my family and getting what I wanted – both of which I was failing miserably at, I thought, as I looked at the delighted brunette spinning on the raised platform. But I was my father’s daughter, and we were both stubborn as hell. There was no talking him out of this wedding. I didn’t want to be anywhere near Marisa, but keeping her close meant keeping her under control.
“It’s perfect,” Marisa trilled. “Willy is going to love it.”
Ali’s eyes darted to mine and stayed glued there. Willy? My father was the CEO of seven corporations, including the New York Thunder hockey dynasty.
I slapped the thighs of my suit pants and stood. I’d had enough. “I have to be at a meeting. Marisa…” I hated saying her name. “That’s the one.” I held my phone as I pointed up and down the hideous dress. Out of the corner of my eye, Ali relaxed. She had seen me lose my cool on more than one occasion, and it was not something I was proud of, but also secretly liked. There was nothing like a biting retort or a smashed vase to make someone uncomfortable.
“Ali, will I see you at dinner? Or are you heading back to the cottage?” Colton and Ali split their time between the city and his Laketown cottage. We had been invited to my family country home for a formal dinner, and both of us were dreading it.
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll talk to Colton and let you know.”
I made sure that Marisa was busy with the saleswoman and leaned on Ali’s shoulder. “Please. Don’t leave me alone with…” Marisa was still stroking the gown, “her.”
