Chapter 11
“Jane, that cut is just not meant for you,” my mother says.
I roll my eyes, completely aware that my reflection in the three-paneled mirror is facing my mother.
“Kate, are you sure about the color?” mom asks, turning to face my youngest sister who is tapping away on her phone in the plush pink chair next to her. “I don’t think it will suit everyone.” She leans in closer and not-so-quietly mutters, “Especially not Jane.”
“I’ll get a spray tan, mom,” I interject.
Most of the opinions and disapprovals she’s had about this shopping excursion have been directed completely at me, which is wild considering the twins and I look incredibly similar.
“I think she looks great,” Kate coos, smiling at me in the mirror.
I give her a small smile in return to show my thanks for defending me.
Even though mom is irritatingly right and the dress is hideous.
A pale peach chiffon number that hits just below my knees with puff sleeves and a satin sash.
The sleeves are digging into my arms but simultaneously sliding down, so I’m not sure if the dress is too big or too small.
“It’s not entirely comfortable,” I say, tugging on the fabric
“Yeah, but in your size I’m sure it’ll be perfect,” Kate says.
My attention snags on Lydia’s reflection in the mirror, still perusing dresses on the floor behind me. She lifts a strapless fitted dress from the rack, holds it to herself, and smiles as she tosses it over her arm with the stack of other much more stunning options she has.
I turn on the pedestal to face my mom and sister again. Mom hits me with another disapproving sweep over the dress. “Am I allowed to try on other dresses?” I ask.
“I think you’d better,” mom huffs. Kate, who is always interested in keeping mom happy, agrees. “Maybe you should see if Lydia can help you,” mom suggests, pointing to Lydia behind us. “It looks like she found a few diamonds in the rough.”
“You pulled this dress for me, mom,” I remind her as I step down from the pedestal.
I continue searching the racks for any kind of bridesmaid dress that doesn’t make me look like I escaped from Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.
I’m not entirely sure that anything will look good on me in this color, but if I at least can find one without puff sleeves and a cut that’s neither knee-length nor midi, then maybe I could at least pull it off.
“Do you need my help?” Kate asks as she appears at my side.
“Actually yes. It would be super helpful if you could give us an idea of what you’re looking for. And if you could consider a different color.” I gesture to the dress that looks like an orange puff of cotton candy.
She tilts her head to the side, taking in the dress I’m wearing. “What’s wrong with the color?”
“Kate, there isn’t a single person in your party who can pull off this color.”
“I could,” Jessica calls from the other side of the dress rack we’re standing in front of.
“You sure can, Jessica,” I say. I didn’t mean for it to come out sarcastically, but she doesn’t seem to notice anyways.
Kate shrugs, then continues pushing dresses to the side. She holds up a floor-length one with cap sleeves up to my body. “Elise looks fine in it.”
I push the dress down with a shake of my head. “You really want us to just look fine?”
“Everyone will be looking at the bride anyways,” Jessica says, appearing from thin air beside me. I grit my teeth together. Spending all this extra time with her has been an absolute nightmare. August cannot come soon enough so I don’t have to see her this much ever again.
“Well, there’s no worry about that,” Lydia says on the other side of the rack.
“Where do you two keep popping out of?” I ask. Lydia smiles, then walks around the rack of clothes to join us instead of shouting across a collection of pastel dresses.
Jessica pulls a dress off the rack and holds it up with a rueful smile. “Here, Jane. This is perfect for you.”
My brows knit together as I look at yet another bridesmaid monstrosity, though this one is a bright yellow. Fluffy skirt with about twelve layers of tulle. A boatneck cut all the way up to my collarbone. Lace sleeves all the way down to my fingertips. Jeweled belt straight out of 2012.
I push the dress out of my face so I can glare at her. “What exactly makes you think this is my dress?”
“It’s just . . . I don’t know. Modest.”
“Reserved,” Lydia adds.
“Safe,” Kate continues.
“Yeah, Jane has never really been one to take big risks, especially with clothes,” Lydia pips in
Jessica snickers, proud that her point has been proven that I am the most boring-dressed Sinclair sister.
I cross my arms over my chest glare at them all, specifically the twins who joined into the Roast Jane Session instead of defending me.
I would defend them to the ends of the Earth, and it’s starting to get old not seeing it reciprocated.
I spin on my heel to get a break from my sisters giggling with Jessica over another bad option for me and gasp when I spot the mannequin in the window.
One of the sales associates is buttoning up little pearl buttons on a new bridal gown.
It is exactly everything I’ve ever envisioned for my own wedding day.
You know, whenever that day might finally come.
I know I’m here shopping for Kate, but I can’t help myself from at least looking at the dress I’ve had in my mind since I was younger.
My legs carry me toward the white gown almost in a trance.
“That’s gorgeous,” I tell the sales associate. She turns and looks at me with a huge smile on her face. She puts her hands on her hips, proudly examining the dress.
“It’s our newest one. Eva Louis designed specifically for us. There are only a handful in creation.”
“It’s perfect.”
She smiles wider, seeming to have stumbled upon what seems like a potential bride about to have her Say Yes to the Dress moment. “Do you want to try it on?”
“Oh, I . . . I’m actually a bridesmaid. I’m not in the market right now. But if I were, this would be my dream dress.”
“I know peach isn’t the right color, but I don’t think white is on the table,” Kate says as she comes to a stop next to me. She tilts her head to look at the dress. “Why does this look familiar?”
“Because I doodled this in a notebook when I was younger and we played wedding planner.”
She snaps her fingers. “Oh yeah. Your dream dress. Hey, look at that, it exists!”
“Oh, Kate, this is pretty,” Elise says as she walks over, completely oblivious to what’s actually happening. Elise gently touches the ivory skirt, holding it out to look at the lace trim on the train.
Jessica snorts. “Yeah, like Kate would ever wear that matronly potato sack.”
“It’s a fit-and-flare. How is it a potato sack?” I combat, suddenly defensive over my dream dress.
“Because of the way the lace lays over it, which looks incredibly cheap by the way. It looks like a thousand doilies.”
Kate lifts her shoulder and starts to turn. “You can have it, Jane. Save it for your turn. Whenever that is.”
With another wistful look at my dream wedding dress, I turn on my heel and walk sullenly back to the bridesmaids dresses in search of something that actually is flattering on me. Elise comes over and starts perusing the rack beside me.
“Is Jessica always so awful?” she asks quietly.
I don’t lift my gaze from the dresses, afraid the sadness is plain on my face from the way my sisters talk to me with Jessica around. “Probably since the day she learned how to talk.”
The bell chimes and I let out a groan as Jason and his groomsmen enter the building, Reid front and center in the group.
As if this afternoon couldn’t get any worse.
“The groomsmen?” I hiss to Elise. She lifts her head and follows my glare to the door. “What are they doing here?”
“I would imagine they’re here for their suits.”
Of course they are. It’s at that moment that I realize I’m still wearing the awful peach dress, and before I can run back into the dressing room and change or hide, Reid spots me, a smile curving over his lips.
He immediately breaks off from the group of men and strolls toward me, casually sliding his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans as he looks me up and down.
“Wow, you look . . .” his mouth quirks. “Adorable.”
I glare at him, even though adorable is a hefty compliment for this dress.
“Do me a favor and convince Kate that peach is a terrible color.”
“I don’t think Kate thinks that highly of my opinion for this wedding.”
“I think you have the power of persuasion and I desperately need you to use it.”
Because no matter how much he gets under my skin, for whatever reason people listen to him. Jason listens to him. Kate listens to him. And right now I need to call in that favor. Reid arches a dark brow and takes a step closer to me.
“What do I get in return?” His voice is a low purr that causes goosebumps on my skin. I brush my hands down my bare arms to dismiss them before he can notice.
“You get a high five and a heartfelt thank you.”
He shakes his head. “You need to do better than that.”
I rub my hands on my skin harder, hoping the friction helps.
It doesn’t.
I turn to break out of the intensity of his stare and pretend to scan the dresses on the rack beside me.
My eyes catch on a stunning red dress and I pluck it off the rack.
His eyes follow my movement, darkening when he takes in the slip of fabric, the slimmest straps I’ve ever seen in a dress, the cowl neck.
“If you can get Jason to convince Kate to change the color to literally anything more flattering, you can pick out which dress I buy.”
“You don’t want to wear . . . whatever this is?” Amusement is alight in his eyes, the corner of his lips tugging up as he takes in the puffy peach dress again. I put my hands on my hips, pretending I feel much more confident in this dress than I actually do.
“I don’t know, do you think I should?”