Chapter 12
“ISN’T IT EARLY TO BE doing this kind of thing?
The wedding’s almost a year away.” I felt like the Grinch saying it, but as much as I secretly loved the idea of true love and happily ever after, my day-to-day made it clear that kind of thing was more fiction than real life.
The mountains of silk, satin, and lace arrayed before us were very real.
And after the cooking lesson, the extended couch cuddle, and Ford’s inevitable exit, which had started to seem less inevitable, I was feeling unsettled.
It had started to bleed into other parts of my life.
Most recently, the bridal salon in front of me.
“Some bridal houses take nine months or longer to make dresses. With the kind of wedding Alex and Erik are planning, she’s going to need a significant dress.” Elena shot me a look that said she knew much more about this than I did.
She wasn’t wrong. And although I understood that weddings had social repercussions and in Erik’s case some business ones as well, it was hard for me to get excited about the amount of resources that went into a single day.
Not when the lace was likely to far outlast the marriage, but I wasn’t about to say that part out loud. Especially not to Alex.
“Try to be excited for her,” said Elena, as if she’d read my thoughts. “Choosing a wedding dress is the biggest decision a bride makes.”
“I’ll behave.”
I followed her through the door and into a showroom that tugged at even my cynical heart.
With its dark wood ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and white alabaster floor, it felt like a gorgeous turned upside down world.
Wrought-iron fixtures lined the palest-gray walls, and a huge mirror with a dais filled a corner of the spacious room. But the dresses stole the show.
They stood like punctuation marks in the expensively austere space.
Dressmaker dummies wore clouds of tulle and sheaths of delicate lace, beaded bodices and satin skirts.
Dresses of every shape and style imaginable filled the room.
My inner little girl had the reaction I imagined almost every woman had when faced with all her fairy-tale princess dreams come to life.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” said Alex, hurrying toward us. She had a champagne flute in one hand and a black-clad salesclerk following in her wake.
She gave me a quick hug and then tugged Elena toward one of the racks on the far wall, going on about blush versus white and tulip versus mermaid silhouettes.
Another clerk appeared and pressed a champagne flute into my hand and motioned to a seating area in front of the platform and enormous triple mirror.
Before I had time to decide whether to sit or follow my friends, Kindra and Meredith came through the door.
There were hugs and more champagne and in moments we were crowded together on the white Duncan Phyfe sofa—I knew the name because Elena picked a similar one for my place—and the salesclerk whisked Alex away to a dressing room, two additional clerks following in a cloud of lace and tulle.
“Wait until you see her in the Vera Wang. I have a very good feeling about that one.” Elena perched on the edge of her seat, ready to spring into action if she was called on.
We might have a very different skill set and different priorities, but if I ever had anything to plan—party, retirement, wake—I wanted Elena on my team. The woman was driven and organized. I had no doubt; she’d take care of details Alex didn’t even know to worry about.
“The ombre tulle is gorgeous and the sweetheart neckline is perfect for her.” Meredith’s expression shifted from the dreamy-eyed look she’d worn since we walked in to something sharper.
Kindra nodded her agreement.
I took a sip of champagne and followed along under the fake it until you understand what’s going on premise. No one needed to know how little I knew—or cared—about wedding dresses.
“Here she comes!” bubbled the clerk, leading Alex up onto the platform. Another salesclerk followed, corralling the reams of tulle that made up the dress’s train and threatened to swallow my friend.
“You need something with presence but that’s a lot of dress.” Elena leaned forward, eyeing Alex critically. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’m being eaten by a cupcake instead of the other way around.” Alex blew out a breath, ruffling her dark hair. Instead of her normal sleek twist, she’d pulled it back in a messy updo. Presumably made messier by wrestling herself into the gigantic princess dress.
“Can we put her in the Katie May?” Elena phrased the words as a question, but it was clearly a command.
“Of course. The corded Chantilly lace on that bodice is exquisite. It will be gorgeous on her.” The woman took Alex’s hand and helped her off the platform.
By the speed she moved, I had no doubt Alex actually needed the help getting turned around and off the step without falling. The train gatherer shuffled along behind them.
“She had to try it. That much train on a ballgown is clearly too much dress for her height, but she’s got to have a statement dress. The photos she sent me weren’t quite enough.” Elena seemed to be talking to herself as much as to any of us.
“Why?” I wasn’t going to be the asshole friend who ruined the appointment, but while Alex was busy in the dressing room, I had questions.
“Why what? The dresses were too ordinary. Neither Alex nor her wedding will be ordinary.”
Elena meant well. I didn’t doubt that at all.
She loved Alex as much as I did. But I still didn’t understand why her wedding had to be such a big deal.
It would be one thing if it’s what she wanted.
But the expression on her face when we arrived and when she’d been swallowed by the cupcake dress didn’t align with that.
“No, why does she need a statement dress?” I echoed Elena’s words.
“Erik is a partner in one of the most prestigious law firms in the city. In the state.” She waved her hand around as if it were self-evident, which considering my own profession, it was.
“The rest of the partners and associates, all the local politicians, anyone who’s anyone will be at this wedding.
It’s going to be the social event of the season.
I’m going to make sure Alex shines. She deserves that. ”
“She’s amazing. She already shines. She doesn’t need to marry Erik to do that.” My tone was harsher than I intended it, but the idea of my smart, talented, resilient friend playing second to a man—even one who adored her as much as Erik seemed to—made me a little crazy.
“Of course she does.” Elena gave me a look that said she thought I was crazy too.
“But this wedding is a big deal. It’s our job.
” She punched the word our and hit me with another look.
“To make sure she has everything she needs to show the world how amazing she is. How amazing they are together and how lucky they were to find each other.”
Beside me, I felt Meredith stiffen. She was as sweet as the pastries she created and the most likely of all of us to avoid a confrontation.
And she was the definition of hopeless romantic.
If my job left me jaded, hers reinforced the illusion of true love and happily ever after.
Not to minimize what she did. The woman was a sugar artist, but she saw the couples when the biggest thing they had to decide was what flavor cake they wanted.
We had a very different frame of reference.
I gave Meredith’s hand a squeeze and ignored the schoolmarm edge to Elena’s voice. I didn’t like being chastised, even if her intentions were admirable and she was probably right.
“That’s what we all want,” said Kindra, the calm in her voice and demeanor a balm to my rising temper.
She was right. I knew she was. Everyone there, including Elena, wanted the very best for Alex.
My irritation likely had more to do with me than anything going on in the bridal salon at that moment.
I promised myself when Erik suggested I write the prenup that I wouldn’t do anything to diminish Alex’s happiness or point to the irrefutable statistics on marriage.
It wasn’t like she was going in blind. Everyone knew what the odds were. Everyone just assumed they’d beat them.
“Next one!” chirped the salesclerk. Behind her, Alex followed in a much more manageable dress.
“That’s lovely,” said Meredith as Alex stepped onto the platform. “The shape of the dress suits her and the pickwork on the lace is exquisite.”
“Isn’t it?” Elena leaned so far forward on her seat, I worried she might fall. “But I’m not sure about the back on this one.”
Alex peered over her shoulder, doing a decent dog chasing its tail impersonation.
The dress made me think of lilies. It was beautiful on her, even if the back was a little plain.
“People are going to spend a lot of time looking at the back.” I didn’t know dresses, but even I knew that much. It at least gave me something to contribute besides dismal marriage statistics.
“Charlotte’s right.” I tried not to let the surprise in Elena’s voice bother me. “Let’s try the Herrera.”
The salesclerk nodded her agreement and Alex started the shuffle step off the platform and back to the changing area. At least she could manage this dress without minions bringing up the rear.
“This next one is a little out of her price range, but I think it could be perfect. Erik can afford it.”
She finally sat back in the seat as if that settled everything while I tried to figure out why my blood pressure had just spiked and how to handle it without being a bitch.