1. Daisy
1
DAISY
“ I don’t know why you’re acting like a helpless victim. You knew this wedding was coming.”
“I thought I had more time!” I wailed as my sisters tried to stuff me into the dress.
“Could you let it out a little more?” my mom asked the seamstress.
The older woman peered at me over her glasses and pursed her mouth.
“Only this much.” She pinched her fingers together. “You should have ordered a bigger size.”
“She was supposed to get in shape,” Alex told her.
“I’ve been busy with my baby.”
“Oh.” The seamstress’s face softened.
“She has a cat,” Alex interjected.
“I also have a job,” I shot back.
“Working? You have a rich ex-husband, yes?” She slid the glasses down her nose to better give me a reproachful look.
I grimaced. “Yes, but—”
“You need a better divorce lawyer.”
“No, see, I’m marrying him again.”
“And he makes you work?” Her eyeglasses were practically covering her mouth.
“This an awful lot of judgment for a final wedding-dress fitting,” I said.
“Yeah, you don’t know!” Granny Madge piped up from where she was partaking of the complimentary champagne. “She could be pregnant.”
“She’s not. We checked,” Alex sniffed. “Daisy’s just full of excuses.”
“I’ve been stress eating.”
“You don’t have anything to be stressed about,” Jordan said from where she and Brooklyn were modelling veils in the mirror.
“You have all the fresh eggs you can eat, a handsome fiancé who adores you, and two jobs you don’t need,” Brooklyn agreed.
“Mom’s not paying me to work on the cookbook with her,” I argued.
My family didn’t know that I actually did have a lot to be stressed about.
I regarded my reflection in the mirror, feeling mildly nauseated.
What if Aaron saw me walking down the aisle and regretted tying himself to me?
“We have a week to get in shape,” I told Reese when we were back at the gothic mansion. It had been a year since we’d done the work on Aaron’s backyard, and now it looked like a garden worthy of Barefoot Contessa .
The chickens, fully feathered and still fully on Team Aaron, pecked among the rows of vegetables and flowers.
Reese and I sat on the terrace under the arbor at the big heavy wood table, nibbling on an elaborate spread of finger sandwiches and cocktails.
Well, Reese and Dorian were nibbling.
I was fretting.
“I get married this Saturday, and I cannot fit in my dress.”
“Just buy a new one, or wear your old one. Your mom got all the ink stains out,” Reese suggested.
“Aaron’s already seen me in that dress.”
“I think he just wants one that won’t get dirty when he drags you to the sex dungeon.”
“Not a lot of dungeon sex happening lately.” I grimaced. “That’s why I need this wedding to go perfectly. I don’t want it to be our wedding night and Aaron takes one look at me, rolls over, and goes to sleep.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“He’s been avoiding me,” I admitted. “He won’t touch me. He thinks I’m revolting!”
“I think you’re just hungry.” Reese waved a salmon salad sandwich in front of my face.
My stomach growled loudly enough to freak out the chickens. Dorian, who had been hearing it all morning, was immune.
“All brides starve before their wedding day. It’s tradition. This is my plan.” I dropped a notebook on the table, ignoring how it wafted the delicious smell of cheddar-and-chive scones my way.
Reese peered at the notebook. “Isn’t this the plan we came up with when we were fourteen and you were dying to make Aaron notice you?”
“I was at my thinnest,” I said fervently.
“You were also fourteen.” Reese flipped through the glitter-sticker-covered notebook. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Daisy.”
“I don’t have any other options. Aaron and I haven’t had sex in three weeks. And he’s not busy with work. I asked Betty.”
“I think you need to hydrate and eat some cheese.”
“I’m off cheese. I’m eating lettuce. Starve and sweat. Throwback to the summer of freshman year!”
“I’m too old for this,” I gasped as I hauled myself out of the pool like an overfed dolphin.
Reese coughed on the tiles beside me.
“The point of being in a relationship is not having to do this.”
“Neither of us have the ring yet.”
My watch beeped.
I chugged water.
“Come on. It’s time for our run.”
“I think,” I doubled over, gasping as sweat poured down my face, “that we’re good. We killed that run. Go us!”
“We haven’t even made it twenty feet.” Reese walked around, hands on her hips.
“Twenty feet too many. I’m done.”
“Can we get food now?”
“This fifteen-year-old issue of Seventeen magazine says that ginger lemon peel and arugula is the way to recover after a workout.”
Reese made a noncommittal noise.
I glared at her. “You’re going to go get a hamburger after this, aren’t you?”
“Noooo,” she lied, “of course not.”
I felt lighter already when I dragged myself back to the house.
Aaron was out on the terrace, feeding the chickens their afternoon snack. He dusted his hands off and stood up, giving me a small smile. His tie and jacket were off, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up, his collar undone.
I drooled.
“You look tasty.” I licked my lips. “Like I want to slather you in barbecue sauce and put you on a sandwich.”
The chickens made alarmed noises.
“She doesn’t mean it,” he sighed to them.
“No, I really want to put your cock on a freshly baked hot dog bun with chili and cheese sauce, maybe some onion rings on the side.”
Now Dorian was really upset.
Stop it, Daisy, geez! What the hell are you doing?
Meal planning.
Aaron just snorted, leaned in, and kissed me.
I pulled him down for a deeper kiss.
“You taste like pizza.” I kissed him again. “Pepperoni pizza.”
“Coleman…” He stepped back. “Guess you’re not into it right now.” He checked his watch.
“What? No! I want to eat you, I mean fuck you, right now, here. Well, not here in front of all five thousand of our neighbors.” I gestured up to the office towers. “But you know.”
I blinked.
I honestly wasn’t sure if I had the energy for it.
I just wanted to lie in my empty bathtub and dream of food.
Aaron seemed like he was going to kiss me again then thought better of it.
“I actually have to go.”