Good Lord.I poke my head out to see Matteo is nodding along patiently from a standing position. His phone is in his hand. He’s probably trying to keep tabs on his business and avoid Birdie. The first dress I’m handed is a real fairy-princess number. It’s hideous.
I walk out holding up the many toile skirts and twirl for him. He breaks into a smile. ‘Perhaps if I was Prince Charming and this was a cartoon.’
The assistant clicks her tongue and ushers me back in to help me take it off. She yells through to him, ‘What are weddings like where you grew up? Traditional or modern?’
‘A mix,’ he says. ‘In Spain, weddings are all about good food, music, the many, many traditions… and family.’
‘And which is more important to you?’
We listen to Matteo take a beat.
‘Family.’
The assistant smiles. ‘You’ve got yourself a good one there. He’ll make a fine husband.’
I can feel my cheeks burn. If only she knew this was all a charade. She’d be furious. She flicks through a rack of dresses and hands me another.
‘This is the one for you.’ She bustles out and I can hear her grilling Matteo further. ‘What sort of life will you have together?’
Christ Almighty.She’s so nosy. I wish she’d just disappear and let us browse the dresses in peace.
‘Erm…’ He hesitates. Probably, like me, wondering how truthful to be about this web of lies. ‘Connie is an amazing singer-songwriter. I guess we’ll be travelling the world. Maybe base ourselves in Spain, but work between there and LA when she’s not touring.’
I feel a bloom of pride that he could even think that. Even if none of it is true.
‘You have a place in LA?’
What did I say? She’s a professional nosy parker.
‘Yes. I live there. Or, at least, I used to. We’ll see.’
‘You seem familiar. Like a movie star.’
Oh, my God.I know nothing about him or his work history. I should really ask him for his CV before we get hitched. I will the nosy parker assistant to keep badgering him for information.
‘Are you successful?’
Good question. It’s so hard to tell if he’s stinking rich or just financially comfortable, because he’s not in the slightest bit showy like Luke, who reeks of old money just by looking at him. My mind shoots back to Matteo and his battered old-lady scooter.
‘Depends on who you ask.’
‘Do you love what you do?’
‘I make music with a range of artists. It can be crazy and unpredictable. But yes, I love it.’
‘Love can make a man do crazy things,’ she says. ‘You must really love your bride to travel across the world for her.’
Gah!She’s going too far! The L bomb. We’ve only just gone exclusive. Matteo must be cringing. I wait for his reply, but none comes. Now I feel terrible. He’s being forced into a corner and interrogated.
‘How long have you been together?’ she probes.
‘Long enough.’
Clever.
‘When you know, you know,’ she says. ‘Am I right?’
‘I guess so.’
