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“What about your family?” Maria asks. “Will they want to come for the nuptials?”
My heart jumps into my throat. What do I say, I’m a nobody with only one brother? I open my mouth and close it again, not sure what to tell them, when Roman pipes in.
“This one will be for my side of the family,” Roman says, and while I’m glad he jumped in to help, I also can’t resist thinking he might not want them to know who I really am. He’s a great guy, but he had a very different upbringing than me, and there are certain expectations placed on him, certain things he must live up to—marrying beneath his status is probably something that would be discouraged. Then again, I could just be projecting my fears. Maybe the only one worried about it is me. But to answer her question, no, my family won’t be coming. No need for Cason to be made aware of our wedding, when it’s not a real one.
I barely take my last bite when Lucy snatches up my plate. “Okay, let’s go,” she says, her dark eyes brimming with excitement.
I take in her little baby bump and my heart misses a beat. It would be so much fun to be a part of this family, watch that baby grow and be there to spoil it. “Go where?”
“We have one week to pull off a wedding,” she says.
“One week?” I blink numerous times and take in the bobbing heads. “Why one week?”
“We have duties to get back to,” Aurora says.
“Wait, where are your children and husbands?” I was so caught up in the excitement, I never stopped to consider they had lives to return to, children needing their mothers, husbands needing their wives.
“Our babies are with our husbands and nannies,” Maria says. “They’ll come next Saturday for the wedding.”
My gaze moves around the table and I plant one hand on my hip. “Why do I get the feeling this wedding was in progress before any of you arrived?”
Bianca gives me a sheepish look. So far she’s been the quietest in the bunch. “Probably because the second Anna reached out to Lucy, we were packing and making arrangements.”
“I didn’t stand a chance, did I?” I ask, and Roman mumbles something like, I told you so under his breath and all I can do is laugh.
“Okay, let’s go,” Lucy says.
The next thing I know I’m in the shops, and we’re picking out flowers and cake and food. With little time to find the perfect dress, I’ll have to pick one from the rack, but I don’t mind. I don’t want to spend a lot, although so far I haven’t spent anything. These women insist on purchasing everything, but I don’t want them to waste a lot of money on me. They just wave me off every time I try to protest.
They march me into a bridal shop and even without an appointment we’re made a priority. I suppose that’s how it is when you come from money.
The sisters all take a seat on the sofa and pull me down with them. The clerk, Lucille, a gorgeous middle-aged woman with long dark hair and big brown eyes, asks me to describe my favorite dress, and I basically sit there with my mouth hanging open. How on earth would I know? I wasn’t like other little girls, dreaming of their Prince Charming. No, I was sticking close to the walls trying to be invisible. There was no time for fairy tales in that cruel world I grew up in.
“I...don’t know.”
She takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. “Let’s have a look at your body shape.” I stand there like a mannequin on display as she spins me around and everyone excitedly gives their opinion on what would look best on me.
“I don’t need anything fancy,” I say. “Just simple.”
The clerk taps her chin, her brown eyes narrowing as she goes quiet, thoughtful. “I think I have the perfect dress,” she announces, and the women all clap their hands, excitement on their faces, and I can’t quite help but get swept up in it.
“Okay,” I say, and let her lead me to a change room. I step inside and strip to my underwear and she comes in with a gorgeous white gown.
“I think this ball gown will be perfect for you.”
My heart races a little faster in my chest as she removes it from the hanger and helps me into it. The second I see the dress on me, the silhouette perfect for my shape, I swallow hard and fight the barrage of emotions pushing tears into my eyes.
“I knew it,” Lucille says, and clips it in a few places. “We have to do a few alterations, and we’ll put you at the top of the list of course.”
My throat squeezes tight, my legs a little wobbly. “That’s so kind.”
“Anything for the Bianchis.” She stands back. “What do you think?”
“I love it,” I whisper, my heart aching in my tight chest. “But I can’t go with the first dress, can I? I mean, I’ve watched the shows and it takes girls forever to pick their dress, right?”
A wide smile splits her lips. “When it’s the right one you know.”
My pulse leaps. She’s right. When it’s the right one, you know. A surge of love wells up inside me. At the wedding last summer when Roman kissed me, it sealed the deal. For years I thought he was the right guy, but that kiss was electric, setting off a storm inside me that would forever ruin me for other men. Maybe deep down, he feels it, too, but is too afraid. A little bubble of hope wells up inside me. Is it possible that he wants this, too, and is using Richard as an excuse? I spin around and there is nothing I can do to wipe the ridiculous smile from my face. I’ve always tamped down hope, too afraid of disappointment—too used to disappointment—but this just all feels so right.
