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“Where are the shoes we picked out?” These aren’t the four-inch, open-toed, satin pumps we agreed to.
Lifting her dress higher, my nose pinches, coming face-to-face with a dirty pair of old Chucks.
“You mean the shoesyoupicked out?” Rory asks once I’ve righted myself back.
I huff my disapproval. Hearsay.
Okay, maybe not so much agreed, but I did show her several options and she said shemightdespise these the least of them all. I took that as my green light and ran.
“Sneakers?” Really? My one brow finishes with a lift.
She waves me off, stepping down and returning the tissue box to its place. “Relax, I forgot them back at the Caspers’. I’m having them brought over.”
My mouth stays absolute with disapproval. This is exactly like something Rory would do. Conveniently, she forgets to bring the one thing she needed from herownhouse.
She better not blame me if her dress ends up at the wrong length because the seamstress didn’t have the correct shoes.
My eyes go cross, offended. I doubt Rory would notice or care, and that makes this all the more irritating.
“What do you think about this one?” Rory asks, distracting me as she holds a veil to her scalp. “Yes. No. Maybe?”
I must not react fast enough because she’s already bent forward, the front of her dress puffing out from the excess material, asking Aiden instead.
“What do you think?” she ponders, her voice naturally pitching higher while speaking to him.
He’s been calm most of the visit, busying himself by tearing out pages from the other bridal magazines left out on the table. Last night was rough and I didn’t have the energy to scold him out of my own sleep deprivation. He’s quiet and that’s all that matters.
The attendant doesn’t seem to approve but has kept her trap shut thus far. Smart woman. I know the reason her yaps stayed closed tighter than a butthole is that the cost of Rory’s dress will alone top the store’s margins for the year.
Cole surprised his fiancé before our first visit by handing over the thick black card, telling her to get whatever she wanted. If I had to guess, it was because he had a better understanding and didn’t want Rory to miss out on having the dress of her dreams.
I love my friend, but she’s always been more reserved when it comes to spending things on herself. Rory, for the majority of her life, didn’t grow up in the same high-class society.
The ironic part of it all though, is a few years back, she became worth more than her fiancé.
I turn an imaginary key. My mouth is locked tight on this one. The price of her dress will be one secret I’ll never spill.
Aiden shakes his head, and Rory reaches for a new veil. This is an elbow-length version. “Hmmm, this one then?”
“No,” Aiden gripes. “Too many fluffs.”
He means layers, and my mouth falls downward at his refusal of the double-tier selection.
The small bit of lace detail around the edge would’ve paired beautifully with the timeless structure of her dress. It’s the one I would’ve suggested.
I’ve been betrayed by my own child.
“This one,” he says, adamant as he tugs at the silk tulle of the longest one.
The attendant is pinning it in place and I’m so in awe at how perfectly Aiden’s choice works that I don’t register the wedding bell chime at the front door.
More accurately, the person who’s stepping through before it’s too late.
“I’m not looking, I’m not looking,” Finn mumbles, smacking a hand to his face to vigorously shield his eyes.
He rams straight into a mannequin, cursing he apologizes. Then he apologizesagainfor cussing at a “lady” in a bridal salon.
The attendant shoots a scowl, catching the figure at the last second, but Finn doesn’t register any of it. Blindly, he continues to move through the store, waving what I assume are Rory’s shoes in one hand. The other is still over his eyes.
