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I knew I could count on Frankie to choose a lovely bridesmaid dress. It’s dusty plum satin, mid-length, with spaghetti straps. I could totally wear it again. You know, for all those cocktail parties I’m invited to.
Still, it’s classy and gorgeous, and it looks great on all three of us. My curvier hourglass figure, Isabella’s long and lithe body, and Gigi’s large posterior. Frankie also showed us—and modeled—her wedding dress. Basically the same dress as ours, except floor length in ivory satin with some intricate beading. Perfect for a less formal wedding at a home.
I decide to join Frankie and the others for drinks after the fitting. I didn’t touch my eyeball for nothing, after all. My eyes are already dried out from the contact lenses.
We end up at a hotel bar with a dance floor—not a club, thank God—a few buildings down from the bridal shop. We’re lucky to snag one of those high tables that seats four.
It’s early yet, only eight thirty. I had a sandwich before the fitting, but it’s wearing off now.
“Do you want to order some food?” I ask the others.
“Not for me,” Gigi says. “I’m on a diet.”
“Me neither.” From Isabella.
“I can’t gain a single pound before the wedding,” Frankie adds. “I can’t risk having to do my fitting all over again.”
I resist an eye roll. They all look fine. Sure, Gigi has a large booty, but it works for her. Men love it.
In fact—
She’s the first one of us to get approached. She’s a beauty—naturally light blond hair, big blue eyes, and of course that posterior for which privileged women pay plastic surgeons thousands.
“Would you like to dance?” an Armani-clad gentleman asks Gigi.
“I’d like that very much.”
She rises and heads to the dance floor. Even in her casual leggings and tunic, Gigi looks great dancing with a gentleman in a suit.
A server approaches us. “What can I get you, ladies?”
“I’d love a martini,” Frankie says.
Her drink of choice. Personally, I think it tastes like rubbing alcohol.
“Cosmo for me,” Isabella says in that bored tone that works for her.
“And you?” She glances at me.
“Sidecar. And an order of seared ahi nachos.”
“Good enough. I’ll be back with your drinks soon. The nachos will take a few minutes longer.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Isabella and Frankie both glare at me.
“What? I told you I was hungry.”
“Mom and Dad aren’t going to pay for an extra fitting for your dress,” Frankie warns.
I roll my eyes at her. “One order of ahi nachos is not going to make me gain a size.”
In truth, I haven’t gained a size since I was fourteen. I’ve had the same body forever, and Frankie knows it. That’s the one thing I have on her. I don’t have to watch my weight. As much as I’d love to be tall and slim like Isabella, genetics didn’t make me that way. I have our mother’s cute little figure. Frankie takes after our father. She’s taller, with a tendency to gain weight around the middle.
After one dance, Gigi makes her way back to the table just as our drinks are being served. “You didn’t order anything for me?”
