Glancing over at our friend, I watch for a second as she snaps a selfie of herself, white princess dress, tiara, fake veil and all.
I get the warm fuzzies just looking at Carmen; she’s going to be the most beautiful bride on her special day and I’m so grateful that she trusted me enough to plan her send off to celebrate her final night out as a miss.
Not to mention, her soon to be husband is an angel personified.
I couldn’t ask for a better person to marry my best friend.
Blinking away the sudden onslaught on tears burning my lash line, I swallow down the lump in my throat. I’m not usually an emotional drunk, but there’s something about this particular occasion we’re celebrating that has me feeling teary eyed because… I want that.
I want someone to love me like Carmen and her soon to be husband share. I so desperately want someone to love me unconditionally and unapologetically. A wild sort of love that’s never short of passion; free and uninhibited.
But right now, I don’t think I could be any further from findingmy one.
Unless he’s hiding somewhere around the bar…
I roll my eyes at my own train of thought. Yeah, right.
Trying my best to pull my short attention span back to the present moment, I paint a waxy smile across my face and grip Shelby’s arm. “We should have hired a stripper!”
“Carm would have hated that,” she mutters back.
“For us!”
“I don’t think Jack would be too happy about that.”
I wave my hand in front of us. “Boyfriend shmoyfriend. What about us single girlies?”
“Go find someone, then. There’s a fucking plethora of men here tonight.”
“Maybe I will.” I smile coyly, batting my lashes at her until she breaks and laughs loudly. “And then when I get married to him, I’ll allow you to stand up and tell this exact story.”
“Deal.” Shelby grabs my hand, forcing me into a handshake.
I’m thinking of maybe hitting the bar before I start prowling around to find whatever man takes my fancy. That way, my hands won’t feel as awkward because I’ll have something to hold.
I take a step towards the bar, but I don’t get very far when Melanie dressed as Princess Aurora links her arm through mine.
“Toilet break?” she asks sweetly, dragging me along before I can say no.
Tottering across to the ladies, I empty my full bladder, flush, and wash my hands. I slick on a fresh layer of plumping gloss onto my lips, re-zip Melanie back into her pink, polyester costume and follow the crowd of giggling women away from the strong smell of disinfectant and bleach. The smell of the bar gives away to yeasty hops and cheap aftershave. While out on the dance floor, the music pounds from the speakers; I swear I can feel my eardrums vibrating.
What was I doing before my bathroom break?
Oh. Right.
Bar. Drink. Find man…
Men?
Hm. Either. Both. Both is good.
Tipping my head towards the bar in a silent gesture, Melanie gives me a nod to show she heard me, before beelining back to the table our party has claimed for our own.
I push through the throngs of people singing along to the catchy tune and dancing badly, putting one heeled foot in front of the other and ignoring the way the thin edges of my stilettos stick to the floor. The marble bar top, when I reach it, I notice, has the same sticky sheen to it from one-to-many spilled drinks.
“Another bottle of bubbles?” the bartender guesses with a grin, pushing his floppy fringe out of his face.
I shake my head. “Water, please. Just a glass.”
