Chapter 12
Hannah
The last month has been a blur of weddings and meeting with clients. In that time, I’ve met with Jacqueline five times. Brooks hasn’t been with her once. I should be glad he’s not with her. But I’m not. I can admit it.
I want to see him. Be around him.
It’s not healthy. Not when I know I still want him. I’ve never stopped dreaming about him. But now the dreams have turned erotic. So freaking erotic. I’ve woken up wet because of him every day since seeing him. I want more. I crave his touch. And I know I’m going to hell because I’ve even considered reaching out to him with the thought that maybe I can fuck him out of my system. The thing is, I worry that it won’t be enough. That I’ll never get him out of my system.
I’m deep in thought when there’s a knock on my door.
Jess smiles as she enters my office. “Hey stranger.”
I stand, hugging her. “You came to see me without the baby? I’m wounded.”
“He’s having a dude-day. Matt’s words, not mine.” She sits in the chair across from my desk. “I hope you’re not busy.”
I snort. “We’re heading into our busy season. It’s not too bad today, but I won’t be able to say the same thing next week. How are you?”
“Well, I’m wondering why my best friend is ignoring me.”
Guilt courses through me because she’s right. I have been ignoring her.
But I say, “I’m not ignoring you. I’ve just been dealing with a difficult client.”
“Sure.”
“Jess, I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”
She sighs, but I know she’s mostly joking when she smiles.
“Well, there just so happens to be a gala this Friday that is sold out. I originally told the person hosting the gala that I couldn’t go because I didn’t have a babysitter.”
The gala is to celebrate Hannah Lee Bridal’s fifth year of being in business. When I look back, it’s amazing to see how far I’ve come. There were times in that first year when I didn’t know if I was going to be able to stay open. I went from a small rental space in a shopping strip that my dad paid the deposit for to a building that I own with over 5000 square feet. Everything from the furniture to the decorations were picked by me. So, yeah, I’m celebrating my success with a gala. There’s going to be food, a showcase of some of my most talked-about weddings, entertainment, and networking.
I’m grinning as I say, “And now you and Matt can go?”
“Yes.”
“Well, the person hosting the gala always sets aside two tickets for her best friend and her best friend’s husband, so you’re in luck.”
Jess grins. “Excellent.”
“Are we good?”
“Yeah.” She pauses. “I just worry about you, you know? You work so hard, and you never take time for yourself. I wish you’d get out there and date.”
I snort. “Well, my last attempt at dating didn’t go too well. He couldn’t even remember that I was allergic to shellfish and took me to a seafood restaurant where he ordered lobster.”
“What a jerk!”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“So, you’re not seeing him anymore?”
I shake my head. “Not really. He’s coming to the gala, but only because he’s hoping to rub elbows with some of my clients and I didn’t have it in me to tell him he couldn’t attend.”
“You’re better than me, friend. I would have told him not to show his face. Did he even seem bothered that you’re not seeing each other anymore?”
“No.” I grin. “He clearly doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
“Clearly.” She stands. “Well, now that I know we’re good, I need to get home to my baby. I don’t trust Matt even if it is a dude-day.”
“I’m glad you stopped by.”
“Me too.” She wags her finger at me. “Just don’t ignore me again.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
“Good. See you on Friday.”
When she’s gone, I lean back in my chair. I’m going to have to tell her about Brooks. Soon, too. Because there’s a chance he might be at the gala since all of my clients were invited. But that’s a bridge I’ll cross when I get to it.
My head throbs, and it’s not from the lack of sleep from finalizing my gala. No, it’s because of Jacqueline Chanel Minty-Smith. The Bridezilla of all Bridezillas. She’s walking past the dresses, sneering at each one. We’ve been at this for two days. Usually, most brides know what they want their wedding dress to look like. Not Jacqueline. No, she wants to see so many options that it’s going to take forever to find her dream dress. If it even exists. I’m starting to doubt it.
“None of these are acceptable.”
“You said you wanted the very best from France.” I point to the racks. “These are right off the runway from Paris Fashion Week. Some of these are right from the designer’s shops, which means you’re the first person to see them.”
“They all look so… basic. I’m anything but basic.” She spins to face me. “I thought you were the best.”
“I am the best.”
“Then I know you’ll get me what I’m looking for. Now, let’s bring in my bride’s maids. Surely, you’ll have something for them.”
Renee meets my gaze, and I nod. She exits and then returns with two of the four bride’s maids. The other two weren’t available to be here until next week, which is par for the course with this wedding. Out of the two that are here, I really like one and really dislike the other.
Isabetta, or Isa, as she told me to call her, smiles at me. “Wow. There are so many choices.”
Jacqueline turns to Isa. “Don’t worry if you can’t find your size.”
Isa’s cheeks flush, and I’m about to stand up for her when she smiles sweetly.
“Jacqueline, there’s no need for you to worry about me or my size. You, on the other hand, should definitely be worried that you haven’t found your dress yet.”
Jacqueline sputters, and turns to the other woman, Buffy.
“Can you believe this? If Aimée and Vivian were here, this wouldn’t be happening.”
I’m not sure if she means Isa talking back or the lack of having her wedding dress selected. Buffy nods, looking sympathetic. Buffy reminds me of a Stepford Wife—a cookie cutter blonde who looks like every other older woman with too much money and too much plastic surgery. I can tell she doesn’t like me, which is fine. As long as she’s not difficult, I can deal with her. But I get the feeling she’s going to be difficult.
The thought is confirmed when she says, “Aimée definitely wouldn’t stand for this. I mean, why is Isa even in the wedding? Isn’t she about to pop?”
What a bitch!
Jacqueline turns, looking Isa up and down.
“Buffy makes a good point. I mean, what if you go into labor and ruin my wedding?”
Isa rubs her stomach and says, “It’s unlikely that I’ll go into labor. I’m not due until the second week of July.”
Jacqueline doesn’t look convinced, but says, “God knows Brooks won’t side with me on this one. All the Elite wives are expected to be in the wedding, so my hands are tied.”
I ask, “Elite wives?”
Jacqueline giggles. “Silly me. Of course you have no idea what that means, do you?”
But she offers no explanation as she turns back to Buffy, speaking in a low tone that has Buffy snickering as they move away from us.
Isa turns to me, grimacing. “I’d like to tell you they get better once you get to know them, but they don’t. That’s why Brooks calls them the Elite bitches.”
Yeah, that’s something I can see Brooks saying.
“Does Elite mean something?”
Isa works her bottom lip between her teeth. “Kind of. It’s a group of sorts. Our husbands are all members, which is the only reason I spend time with them. Jacqueline is right in the sense that we’re required to be seen together, which is why I’m in this wedding party when I’d much rather be sitting on the groom’s side so I can watch my husband.”
“Is your husband one of the groom’s men?”
“Yes. His name is Alessandro, but Brooks calls him Ace.”
“I’ve heard Brooks speak of him before. They met in college, right?”
I don’t mention that Brooks mentioned his friend years ago. I was even supposed to meet him once, but it never worked out.
She nods. “That’s right. So, how has it been working with Jacqueline?”
I snort, glancing at my client. “I’ve had better, and I’ve had worse.”
“Worse?” Her nose crinkles. “God, I’m so sorry.”
We share a smile.
“This might be odd, but would you like to have dinner? It seems I’m in town until the wedding because my husband is afraid that traveling is going to send me into premature labor.”
“If you’re in town for a while, then I insist that you and your husband come to my gala this Friday.”
“Gala?”
I smile. “I’m celebrating being in business for five years. It’s going to be quite the event, if I do say so myself.”
“I’d love to. I’m sure Alessandro won’t have any objections either.”
“Excellent. Any food allergies I should know about?”
“None, but thank you for asking.”
“I’m allergic to shellfish, so I always try to be mindful of other allergies, too.”
“Honestly, God knew better than to give me an allergy. I have an overactive imagination and tend to hash out every worst-case scenario possible.” She snorts. “Come to think of it, I might be rubbing off on my dear husband. He’s usually not so worried about the what-ifs, but from the moment he found out I was pregnant, he’s been extra paranoid.”
“You’re carrying precious cargo. It’s understandable.”
“Do you have any children?”
My chest is so tight that I’m not sure I can speak. “No children, but maybe one day.”
Jacqueline returns at that moment, holding out her phone.
“Buffy and I both think this is the right dress for me. How soon can you have it here?”
I look at the screen and send up a silent prayer.
“You’re in luck. I have that in stock.”
Her lips part. “There’s no way.”
“There is. I’m good friends with the designer. Right this way.”
I wink at Isa as I lead Jacqueline to the dress of her dreams. Do I think it’s right for her? No. Does it matter what I think? No. All that matters is what the bride thinks.
Tears fill her eyes as she looks at the dress. “This is it. This is the dress I’m going to marry Brooks in.”
I hate that I know Brooks won’t like the dress. Well, the Brooks I used to know, at least. A sharp pain stabs through my chest, but I ignore it.
“I’m sure he’s going to think you look stunning.”
At the end of the day, she’s the one who’s going to marry Brooks.
Not me.
It’s so hard to keep a pleasant smile on my face when my heart is breaking.
Isa catches my gaze and I have to look away. I feel like she sees too much, and since her husband knows Brooks, I don’t want anything to get back to him.
I’m mostly over Brooks, and it’s normal to feel pain. Right?
“Let’s get you in a dressing room and try it on,” I say to Jacqueline.
“No need. Just take my measurements.” She peers over her shoulder. “Buffy, have you found anything you like?”
“Not yet.”
She sighs. “Of course not.”
“I’m sure we’ll find your bride’s maids the perfect dress. Now, let’s get those measurements.”
She thankfully doesn’t put up a fight and I get the measurements. It’d be better if she tried on the dress, but since she refuses, I will not press the issue. By the time we’re done with measurements, Buffy has proclaimed that she’s found the perfect dresses for the bridal party.
“It’s to die for,” Buffy says, holding up the form fitting coral dress.
Jacqueline nods. “I love it and the others will look wonderful in it.” She turns to Isa. “You might want a shawl or something for yours, to cover your fat.”
Isa smiles sweetly back at Jacqueline. “I’ll wear what everyone else wears. If they don’t have a shawl, then neither will I.”
I have to give her props. I don’t know if I could wear something like that, but I also blame my strict upbringing with Pastor Sullivan and my mother. Religious trauma is a real thing.
Jacqueline frowns. “Perhaps we can have different styles just as long as they’re the same color. I don’t think Vivian will like this dress.”
“You’re probably right.”
Jacqueline’s phone rings and she lifts it. A dark look flickers in her gaze as she answers.
“This is Jacqueline Chanel Minty-Smith.”
I wonder if she’s going to keep the Smith part of her last name when she marries Brooks. After doing some research on her, I discovered that her former husband, Gerald Smith, recently passed away unexpectedly. It shocked me she was already engaged, but maybe she was seeing Brooks on the side all along. God knows that’s his style. But Jacqueline Chanel Minty-Smith-Henderson is a mouthful.
The thought has me choking back a laugh. Otherwise, I might sob.
Jacqueline glares at me. “One moment, Albert. I need to step somewhere more private.”
Whoops.
When she’s gone, I turn to Isa. “I have a dress that I think will look stunning on you. May I show it to you?”
“Yes, please.”
Isa is nothing like Jacqueline. She’s sweet. Easy to work with. And actually has an idea what she wants to wear. I leave her with Renee to try on some dresses and go looking for Jacqueline.
She’s in the hallway, her back to me.
“What I don’t understand is how this happened.” There’s a pause. “That’s not acceptable. I can’t be the one who brings down my family’s empire and legacy.”
Well, that doesn’t sound good. I should leave, but stop when the next words come out of her mouth.
“No. I refuse to believe that all the money is gone. You better find a way to fix this, Albert. I’m getting married in two months, and nothing is going to stop this wedding.”
I step into another room before she ends the call. Her loud heels hit the tiled floor as she passes, going back to the bridal room. I peer around the corner.
What in the hell was that about?
Because it sounded like Jacqueline Chanel Minty-Smith might be broke.