“I’m just so fucking lucky,” he said, his voice full of awe. Carly’s heart squeezed and suddenly she was blinking away tears, undoing all of that washcloth’s good work.
“You’re damn right you are. But so is she,” she added, and she stepped forward to give him an awkward, hands-full hug. He gave a big sniff over her shoulder, then pulled away.
“Go primp,” she said, with a smile that felt like the real thing, and he nodded and headed down the street toward the hotel.
Carly stepped inside the house just in time to hear the sound of a cork popping out of a bottle, followed by whoops and clapping. She made her way down the hallway to the kitchen and dining room, where she found Alice pouring champagne into glass flutes as Izzy laid out the contents of several makeup kits onto the dining table.
“There’s the maid of honor!” Alice cried, and Izzy looked up from a handful of brushes and gave her a smile.
“Heather’s drying her hair,” Izzy said as Alice handed them each a full flute. “We’ll do hair first, then makeup. Heather, then Alice, then you. Do you want to see the spreadsheet?”
Carly chuckled. “No, I’m okay. How’s she doing?”
Alice wobbled her head, thinking. “She seems a bit nervous, but it’s good nerves. Show nerves, you know? The kind that make you sharper and quicker, not the kind that muddle your brain.”
Carly took a sip of champagne, wishing she felt that way. Instead, she somehow felt sluggish and enraged at the same time. But that didn’t matter today. What mattered was keeping Heather calm, sticking to the schedule and getting her down the aisle without anything going wrong. No fuckups, today of all days. If she couldn’t keep that vow for herself, she could keep it for Heather.
A few minutes later, Heather came out of the bathroom wrapped in a plush white robe, bringing the scent of lavender perfume into the room. She beamed when she saw Carly and gave her a quick hug.
“You ready to do this?” Carly asked, squeezing her tight.
“Only for the last two years,” Heather said, squeezing her back. “I’m so glad you’re here. I wouldn’t want to do it without you.”
Carly pulled away to see Alice holding out a glass of champagne for Heather.
“A toast,” Alice declared. “To my favorite dance partner, Marcus, and his actual partner, Heather.”
“To Heather!” Carly and Izzy said, and the four of them clinked their glasses.
Heather took a delicate sip. “Make sure you eat, too, okay? There’s cheese and crackers and charcuterie in the kitchen. No one drinks on an empty stomach today—that’s how cakes get knocked over.”
“As bridezilla requests go, ‘Please eat the charcuterie’ is pretty manageable,” Izzy smirked.
“This ismy wedding, it’smy day, andI demandyou eat some of that goat cheese!” Heather faux glowered at her, and all four of them burst out laughing.
This is fine, Carly thought. She could do this. She’d sit quietly while Izzy did her hair and makeup, and she wouldn’t think about the fact that a few hours from now, she’d have to see Nick. Walk down the aisle toward Nick. She took a swig of her champagne and started unpacking her things.
An hour and a half later, Izzy had twisted and pinned half of Heather’s long brown hair into an elegant low knot and curled the rest into loose, romantic waves. Alice had opted for a sleek ponytail that would stay out of her face as she was officiating the ceremony. And Carly had asked Izzy to give her a classic French twist with plenty of tendrils left out to frame her face and make the whole thing look slightly more relaxed than an uptight ballet updo.
“You like?” Izzy asked, offering Carly a large handheld mirror. Carly examined her reflection. Her curls looked extra bouncy and defined, which she loved. Her face was still puffy and pale, which she did not love, but Izzy could probably hide that with makeup.
“Looks perfect,” Carly said, giving Izzy a quick smile. “And it’s almost ten, so I should get ready for the florist.”
“All right then. Heather, get your beautiful face over here so I can make it even more beautiful,” Izzy said as Carly stood up.
She grabbed her phone, and some cheese and crackers, off the table, hoping that the florist hadn’t tried to call her while she was in the chair, but there were no missed calls from them. No missed calls from Nick, either.Good, she thought. She didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t ever want to see him again, and once this wedding was over, she never would. Her phone vibrated in her hand, and she jumped.
“Must be the florist arriving,” she said to the room through a mouthful of cheese, and she headed up the hallway toward the front door.
Halfway down the hallway, she looked down at the screen and saw that it wasn’t a text but an email. She swiped to her inbox.
Email from: Catherine Lancaster
Subject: Your future at NYB
Carly’s fingers went instantly numb, and she fumbled the phone in her rush to open the email. Had Catherine already decided about promotions? Had she decided to notify people privately, instead of doing it at the end of a company class like she’d done last year?
Carly,
