The loudest scream I’ve ever heard erupts from Kenzie as she stomps her foot. “I did NOT change my bridesmaid dress color from merlot to… puke green!”
“Someone with the password did.”
“Who did you tell the password to?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
“No one!”
Darla tilts her head to one side, her glossy ponytail swinging like a pendulum counting down Kenzie’s remaining patience. Her heavily-lined eyes narrow to slits, lips pressed into a thin line that somehow communicates both supreme boredom and simmering annoyance. She examines her manicure for a moment before looking up with the dead-eyed stare of someone who’s worked retail for far too long. “Then you changed it,” she says flatly. “The system won’t allow any changes without us entering the password. That’s literally how computers work.”
“My wedding is ruined now! These dresses don’t match my color scheme!”
Tracy glances down at the dress and shrugs. “It’s kind of Christmas-y. I mean, it’s… a green.”
I nod in agreement, almost feeling bad for Kenzie. Almost.
Kenzie shakes her head and turns to Darla. “I need new dresses in the correct color, right away!”
“They won’t arrive until the New Year. You chose to wait for fittings until now, so it’s these or something off the rack. Either way, these are paid for.”
“Then I want something off the rack!”
Trace snorts as I raise my eyebrows. “Are you paying for the new dresses? Because I’m not,” I say.
“Yeah, I’m not buying two dresses for your wedding,” Tracy agrees.
“You will do what needs to be done! This is my wedding!”
We both stare at her, shaking our heads.
“If you don’t, you’ll be kicked out of the wedding party!”
“Don’t tease us now,” I reply. “I’m not paying for another dress. You made the change, so—”
“I DID NOT CHANGE THE COLOR OF THE BRIDESMAID DRESSES!” Kenzie’s voice rises, sharp and frantic.
I turn to Tracy and point at her dress. “Are you as color blind as I am if these aren’t a different color than merlot?”
“I guess so.”
“You will go and get a dress in the right color or—”
“Or what?” Tracy challenges. “You’ll kick us out? Cool. We didn’t want to be in the wedding party to begin with, so you’d be doing us a favor, not punishing us.”
Kenzie’s left eye spasms violently beneath her perfectly-arched brow, and she unleashes a scream that ricochets off the boutique’s mirrored walls like a banshee’s wail. Tracy and I both flinch, our hands instinctively flying to our ears.
Darla, however, doesn’t even blink—her mascara-heavy lashes remain perfectly still, her crimson lips set in the practiced neutrality of someone who’s witnessed the full spectrum of bridal meltdowns, from champagne-fueled tears to full-blown hurricane tantrums like this one.
“Are you trying on new dresses or taking these ones?” Darla asks flatly.
“I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” Kenzie snaps before storming out of the shop.
“Guess we’re taking the dresses,” Tracy says with a sigh. “We were so close to getting kicked out of the wedding.”
I shrug. “I’d be willing to eat the cost of the dress if it means we didn’t have to stand up there.”
As we turn to head back into the changing rooms, Darla stops us with a pointed comment. “I know it was you.”
We turn back slowly, our shoulders hunched like guilty children caught raiding the cookie jar. My mouth goes desert-dry, and I feel a cold sweat break out across my lower back.
