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“What’s not appropriate about it?” The dress was floor length and didn’t have any slits that I could see. The neckline exposed a lot of skin, but covered all the important parts.
“She might as well walk down the aisle naked.”
I looked over at Imogen, who was sitting on the couch across from us with her phone in one hand and glass of wine in the other.
She was a blonde version of Emily and nearly as pretty, but her resting bitch face and attitude to match took her from a solid eight to a hard three. Right now she was hovering around a negative seven and dropping every time she opened her mouth.
“It’s also extremely disrespectful to not wear white. Everyone knows the virginity train left the station long ago, but Malcolm deserves to have his bride wear a proper dress at his wedding.”
“But it’stheirwedding.” I turned to Emily. “It’s your day too. This dress is perfection. There’s nothing inappropriate about it.”
“Like you’d know anything about what’s appropriate.” Imogen scoffed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked icily.
“Didn’t Evan find you working at a strip club? And you’re a baby with no life experience. It’s understandable you’d confuse lingerie with proper wedding attire.”
“A baby with no life experience? Excuse you?”
“You’re what, eighteen?”
“Twenty-two. Almost.”
“You’ll understand when you’ve lived a little and can’t rely on your ass to make money.” She smiled serenely and sipped her wine.
Emily’s hand on my thigh stopped the tirade I felt brewing under the surface.
“What about your shoes?” I asked, trying to bring back her earlier happiness. “And jewelry?”
“I’m still deciding on those.” She sipped her wine, her face blank.
I shot Imogen a glare as she scrolled on her phone. I hated people like her. If you didn’t like something, that was fine, but to deliberately make someone feel bad about something they were excited about was a dick move of epic proportions.
“How are my favorite ladies?” Malcolm asked, striding into the room. “Nick.” He didn’t spare me a glance.
“Bored out of my mind.” Imogen looked up from her phone.
“Fine.” Emily gave him a tight smile.
Malcolm motioned for Imogen to stand. “I need your help with something.” He glanced at Emily. “Excuse us.”
She nodded and took a long sip.
Evan and I had arrived at Emily’s house just over an hour ago for what was supposed to be a small family party. Their parents had canceled ten minutes after we got there, and Malcolm’s brother, sister, and their families hadn’t bothered to show up. His parents were out of the country, so they had an excuse, but it made me sad that she’d gone through all the work of planning something, only to have three quarters of the guests not show up.
“Are you okay?” I asked quietly.
“Fine.” She put her glass down and grabbed her phone. “I need to check on a few things.”
“Do you need help?”
“No, thank you. I won’t be long.” She patted my shoulder. “Will you be alright?”
“Fine, but I may or may not need to use the little boys’ room…”
“Use my ensuite. The guest bath smells like someone emptied an entire can of Axe body spray in there.”
“Oof, instant flashbacks to walking down the hall in middle school and having to dodge the chem trails from all the dudes drenching themselves in that stuff in between classes.”
