Chapter 21
JULES
“Give us a twirl!” my mom commands with a smile as I step out into the waiting area.
I stiffly turn in a circle, letting all the women eyeball me in another long, flowing wedding dress.
“That one’s…nice.”
“Yeah, it’s okay.”
“Not really my favorite, though…”
“Can we see another one?”
Apparently, Renewed Gowns is a huge name in the second hand bridal gown niche. The owner, Alexia Kingston, just so happens to be doing a pop-up bridal shop here in Fairy Bush for the next two weeks. And my friends wouldn’t let me pass up this opportunity to find something extra special to wear.
Gotta look pretty as fuck when I walk down the aisle to my fake husband who hates me, y’know?
I am so out of my element here. I don’t understand the big deal about wedding dresses, and I’m certainly not the bridezilla type.
I’m sure I could find a way to work with an outfit that’s already in my closet.
But instead, I’m standing in this brightly-lit bridal showroom, struggling to keep my shit together.
In addition to my mom, Alba and her mother are here, too. So is Laney, and our other friend, Tammy. They’re sitting around on the fancy Victorian chaise lounges, sipping on champagne and making their opinions be known.
And, I can’t for the life of me figure out why, but my half-sister Hilary is here, too. I don’t even know how she found me. She’s either prying details out of Great-Grandma, or she’s straight up stalking me at this point.
Hilary has a way of showing up unannounced and uninvited. She’s done it my whole life. If this is her way of trying to have a better relationship with me, then—
Oh, what am I thinking? The silly notion that my evil half-sister might want to be besties is actually laughable.
I know she’s not here to support my big day.
Hilary’s just here to fish for information.
Whatever my half-sister is scheming against me is the last thing I want to be worried about while I force myself through this wedding dress shopping excursion.
But I’m just going to grin and bear it, and get this day over with as quickly as possible.
My mom plucks a pale pink slip of lace and beads off the rack. “This one is different. What do you think?”
The dress catches my attention. But only for a second. I quickly shake my head. “Ugh. No…”
It’s cute, I guess. But pink is definitely not for girls like me.
“What do you think of this one?” Alba asks, holding up a poofy ballroom-styled monstrosity.
“It's not…me.” I shudder. “I’m not sure I could pull off all that tulle.”
“You’ve got that right,” Hilary mumbles under her breath. When I turn and glare at her, she smiles sweetly. “Tell me again where you met a man like Lincoln. You two are night and day.”
“I think they’re perfect together,” Tammy pipes up immediately.
“The perfect match.” Laney plants a fist on her hip and sends Hilary a glare.
“All I’m saying is, incompatibility is a huge factor in why so many marriages fail.” My half-sister bats her blonde eyelashes innocently.
The tension in the room is quickly approaching disaster levels. I feel my teeth grinding together as I try to swallow down the verbal ass-kicking that’s rising up my throat, and my girls are all squaring up for a blowout argument.
This is not the time. This is not the place. But Hilary is really asking for it.
Alexia swoops into the mix with another gown option right then.
“Why don’t you try this one with the lace sleeves?
” the shop owner suggests. “It looks so elegant, but edgy at the same time. It says, ‘I may be the bride, but I can still kick your ass, so don’t piss me off’.
” She shoots my half-sister a lethal smile.
Hilary huffs and stomps off to look at a rack of dresses on the other side of the room.
Alexia approaches and speaks out the side of her mouth. “Just ignore her. You know how they say that behind every successful man is a woman? Well behind every thriving boss babe is some hating-ass weirdo trying to convince her that she’s not all that. Don’t let her kill the vibe.”
I offer a genuine smile.
Alexia’s a badass, I can tell. Badasses recognize badasses.
Tired but grateful, I take the dress she offers me, turning back to the dressing room to change. Again.
This was a terrible idea. All of it. I should have put my foot down when my mom suggested making a big deal out of this wedding dress thing. I feel like a fraud in every way.
I’m moving into Lincoln’s house tomorrow. All my things are packed into boxes, and my future husband has rented a truck, and this whole fake marriage scheme is starting to get completely out of control.
I’m feeling lost. Unanchored. Drifting. And I’m second-guessing everything.
I slip into another dress, liking this one even less than the first three dozen. But I know my friends will demand to see each and every one. So I trudge back out into the waiting area, and I stand there on display while everyone rambles their opinions.
Well, everyone except for Hilary, who eyeballs me like my whole existence offends her. Given that I’m our dad’s affair baby, I guess it kind of does.
In any case, I’m getting warm. The lacy sleeves are making me itchy, and now my skin is crawling. The neckline is suffocating. This isn’t me.
All this pouffy material. Acres of white tulle. Beaded bodices. Embroidered appliqués.
What have I gotten myself into? What have I gotten myself into? What have I gotten myself into?
My head swims and my palms start to sweat. “Is it hot in here?”
“You okay?” Alba asks, concern written all over her face.
“Thirsty,” I choke out, panic gripping me. “Thirsty. So thirsty.”
I dart over to the big chair where nearly a dozen pouffy dresses lay in a messy pile. “My purse. I can’t find my purse.” Why am I always losing everything?
I whip through heaps of lace and silk, desperate to find my purse, so I can get my water bottle. But my hands are shaking so bad.
“You looking for this, sister?” Hilary sneers from over my right shoulder.
She plops my leather crossbody bag down in front of me and I scramble to unzip it.
“Calm down, will ya? You’re making a scene.” She’s wearing a wicked smirk on her face as she speaks. I don’t trust her.
I’m sure she loves seeing me miserable. If I wasn’t on the verge of a mental breakdown, I’d kick her ass right this minute. But I’m too busy, hyperventilating at the moment.
“Do not tell me to calm down,” I bite before running out of the showroom, and locking myself in the dressing room, tripping on one of the many dresses in the process.
I nearly rip the lace-sleeved gown in my rush to get my arms out of the tight material. I’m sinking to the floor with the dress still swaddled around my waist when there’s a quiet knock at the door.
“Jules. Sweetie. It’s me,” sounds Alba’s quiet voice.
“I just need a minute. I just got too hot in the long sleeves,” I lie.
Alba’s silent for a moment. “You better let me in, because I’m not going anywhere.” Then she adds, “I grabbed your water.”
Still feeling weak and shaky, I lean forward and flip the lock. Alba slips into the room, takes in the ridiculous scene with me half-naked on the floor, and immediately drops down next to me.
My best friend hands me my water bottle. Then she takes hold of my hand and clings to it. I work to slow down my breathing enough to take a few cool, careful sips.
When my heart no longer feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest, I finally meet her eyes. “Thank you…”
“Oh, girl,” she whispers, softly stroking my hair. “What is actually going on here?”
“Can you keep a secret?” I whisper back.
She lifts a brow at me. “You kidding me? Of course. To the grave, sister.”
I drop my skull against the mirrored wall behind me. “This whole marriage is a sham,” I grumble.
“Shock! Gasp!” Alba mutters sarcastically.
I roll my eyes. “Bleh. I knew you were onto us.”
She giggles, then goes ultra-serious. “So, what’s going on? Is he blackmailing you? Forcing you to be his sex slave?”
I let out a weak chuckle, already starting to feel immensely better having gotten that off my chest. It also helps that I’m not shrink-wrapped in lace like a mummy-bride anymore.
“No, nothing like that. Lincoln’s a pain in my ass, but he’s…actually a good guy.” I exhale heavily. “I guess you could say this is a marriage of convenience. It’s a temporary thing. We’re doing this to help each other.”
“How?”
“He’ll be able to land an important business deal for his sports agency, and I’ll get my trust fund from my great-grandmother.”
“Wow…” is all Alba says.
“Yeah,” I respond.
She drops her head against my shoulder. “You could have told me, you know. That would have made the secret a little less heavy to carry.”
“I know. I’m a shitty friend.” I sigh. “It just all happened so quickly. And it feels like there’s so much at stake.”
“Do you think it’ll all go according to plan?” She peeks up at me. “You’ll both get what you want and go your separate ways? No complications?” Her words falter. “No broken hearts?”
“I…” I hesitate, looking down at my chipped fingernail polish. “I hope so.”
“You hope so?” She lifts an eyebrow.
“I mean, obviously I’m attracted to Lincoln. He’s a freaking Greek god in a button-down shirt.” I guffaw. “And the more we hang out together, the more I’m discovering who he really is. He has all these painfully noble qualities about him. It’s…annoying.”
Alba snorts. “Yeah. Okay. That sounds so annoying. Mind telling me what’s so terrible about liking the man you’re about to marry?”
“Come on. You know me. I don’t believe in fairytales, Alba. I was never even planning on getting married. But if I’m forced to, it might as well be worth my while.”
“Fair enough. You don’t have to believe in serendipity and twin flames and cosmic connections.
But you should believe that you are worthy of love, Jules.
You should believe that there are good people out there.
Ones that will fall helplessly in love with you.
” She squeezes my shoulder. “You deserve a lifetime of happiness. Even if a big, ballgown wedding dress and an extravagant ceremony aren’t your style. ”
A tear slips down my cheek. I try to distract myself from the emotions unburied by my best friend’s kind words.
I sniffle, laying my cheek against the top of her head. “Can I use that on a T-shirt?”
She pulls back to glare at me. “Look, bitch. You’re going to have to pay me royalties.”
“Sounds fair.” I crack a smile. “But in all seriousness, thank you for saying that stuff. I may not be on board with all of it, but you’re right about the dress. Who cares what I wear? It’s my fake wedding. Not theirs.”
“Right on, girl!” Alba hops up, yanking me to my feet.
With my bestie’s help, I go back out into the shop. I’m relieved to find that my sister is long gone. In a reasonable amount of time, I pick out a wedding dress that’s more…me. It’s simple. Sleek. Off-white. Zero pouf.
“What do you think?” Alexia asks me, as everyone gathers to watch me twirl in the mirror.
A smile breaks out across my face as I observe my reflection. “I like it so much.”
I’m almost excited about wearing it next week.