Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
I walked to the pillar of mirrors and stared in horror. “I look like a giant cupcake.”
“You look gorgeous.”
This could not be what girls were wearing these days. Could it? “How do you even sit down in something like this?”
“You’ll be dancing and talking to guests all night anyway. You can sit once you’re married.”
“What if I have to pee?”
“Your bridesmaids will help you.”
There was no way all this tulle and a bridesmaid would fit comfortably in a bathroom stall. “I don’t think this is my style.”
She pouted. “But you look so pretty and once your hair and makeup are done you’ll be perfect.”
Hale didn’t care if I wore makeup and I typically didn’t do more than Chapstick and mascara, so I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to pull off the dramatic image she had in her mind—or if I wanted to.
I stared at my basic brown hair in a lopsided bun. “How do you think I should wear my hair?”
Her grey Davenport eyes met mine in the mirror. “You haven’t picked an updo yet?”
“Phina, the wedding’s two months away and I’m just now trying on dresses. I’ve never done this before.”
She paced and took a long sip of her champagne, thinking and then regrouping. “You’re lucky you came to me.”
That wasn’t an answer to the hair question.
“Lilly, call down to the salon and see if they have an opening for Rayne. Tell them we need an emergency consultation tomorrow.” She released the ties of the gown and my insides expanded much like an inflatable life raft unfolds. “Don’t wash your hair tonight. Updos hold up better when hair’s a little dirty.”
“Okay.”
“While you’re here, you can squeeze a salon visit in between a fitting and a makeup consultation. I’m guessing you haven’t selected a cosmetologist yet either.”
Was this another person I needed to headhunt? “Um…”
“On second thought, Lilly, call Devyn. He can book all of Rayne’s appointments.”
I was juggling three event coordinators and one bossy soon-to-be-sister-in-law.
Already missing Elara, I said, “I wanted to be back to Florida by the weekend.”
“Then we have a lot to cover.”
Those magic words unlocked my compliance. Sixteen dresses later I was exhausted and defeated. Nothing looked right on me. I wasn’t fancy enough for gowns and the moment I tried one on, it showed.
“What if I wore a tux? That would be funny, right?”
Phina scowled. “You’re not wearing a tuxedo on your wedding day. Hale wants to see you in a gown.”
“Did he say that?”
“He didn’t have to say it. I know my brother. He’s traditional and boring.”
“Hale’s not boring!”
She waved a hand. “Whatever. He’s … by the book. I know we have something here that you’ll like. We just have to keep trying.”
I openly sulked. I didn’t want to try on any more dresses. I wanted to eat my feelings and put on some elastic-waisted pants, preferably made of fleece.
As she passed over several gowns, flicking through the selection. I refilled my champagne. It was past lunchtime and I was getting cranky.
“Wait! What’s that one you just passed?”
Phina backtracked as she swiped through the rack of designer gowns. “This? You don’t want this one. It’s too plain.”
I set my glass on the veneer table. I’d consumed enough champagne to no longer care that I was walking around like Princess Dominatrix Ivory Underpants in what was essentially a public setting. “Let me see it.”
She sighed and lifted it off the rack. “It’s very low cut, Rayne.”
But it was simple. Spaghetti straps. All white silk. No beads. A delicate crisscross open back. “Can I try it on?”
“We’ll have to tape your boobs.”
“I’m sorry, do what now?”
“Tape your boobs. Lilly, get me a box of rose petals.”
Before I could ask another question, I was turned and sucking in a much needed breath of fresh air as the hooks of the trap-corset came undone. Lilly handed Phina a pink box.
“Okay, face me.”
The cool air against my skin filled me with awkward embarrassment as my nipples were exposed. Phina pulled away the corset.
“Whoa.” I covered my jubblies.
“Rayne, I need to see your breasts to fix them.”
Fix them? “What’s wrong with them?”
“You’re thirty.”
Offended, I scowled at her. “My boobs are perfectly fine.”
“Of course they are, but a dress like that shows everything. And you’re not what I’d called buxom, so you have to work for a nice décolletage.
I pouted. “Your brother loves my boobies.” They weren’t anything to write home about, but I was working with a nice C-minus in the cup department.
“I definitely don’t need to know my brother’s thoughts about your breasts. But I can guarantee, he’s going to love them more when I’m finished perking them up.” She batted away my hands and tore open the pink box.
“What is that?”
“Tape. Stay still.”
I frowned as she slapped one sticky, flower-shaped pad over my nipple. She cupped my boob, lifted it, and readjusted the adhesive.