“Ah… it’s Lana’s last day here, so brunch with the girls and whatever she wants to do—which is probably going to Disneyland,” I answered.
“Disneyland?” Tyler repeated.
“Yes,” I affirmed, knowing he would probably make fun of us for it and not caring. “Why?”
“Caroline and Matthew invited us to a day on their boat.”
“Oh… Ah…” Caroline and Matthew. Ugh. I hated hanging out with them as much as Tyler hated hanging out with Lana. Nevertheless, they were friends Tyler had made in college, and Matthew was now his business partner, so I had to at least put on as much of a smile as I could when I was around them.
They did have a nice boat, in any case.
“Maybe next weekend,” I answered. “We—“
“Hey, babe! Let’s go!” Lana shouted from the other room. “I know Tyler can’t keep his hands off you because he’s been away, but Momma needs coffee before this fitting.”
I bit my lips together to keep from laughing, and Tyler glanced my way through the mirror, one brow raised. I straightened out my shirt and grabbed my watch. “How can you not love her?” I teased him.
“She’s a lot,” he replied.
“She is fire and extravagance and complete inappropriateness, and that’s why I love her,” I countered. I stepped over to the edge of the bed, leaning over to give Tyler a quick kiss. “See you tonight.”
Lana was sipping on a glass of orange juice when I emerged, grabbing my purse and giving her a smile. “I love waking up to your shouting,” I said.
“I wish I could say the same,” she replied. “Though, I didn’t hear anything last night or this morning,” she added, tilting her head. “So, my conclusion was that he finally used the gag on you.”
I chuckled. “Come on. There’s a great coffee place next door to the bridal boutique.”
When we arrived, my wedding dress was already hanging in one of the fitting rooms in the back. They didn’t have Lana’s dress in, but she didn’t mind. It gave her another excuse to take off work and visit, which also made me happy.
I made her sit outside the fitting room and wait for me as I got into the dress, and when I exited, Lana stopped her pacing and stared at me.
There was no smile on her face, no expression other than a singular raised brow and stern eyes. Nerves threaded through me, and I stepped onto the pedestal for the seamstress to make any final adjustments.
The dress really was beautiful, it was fitted through the torso and hips, sweetheart strapless neckline, mermaid bottom that had a soft slope starting at the hips, not an abrupt angular one. The train behind it was only a few feet, that extra fabric cascading down after the last button on the back.
I pressed my hands to my hips and smoothed the satin fabric, watching myself in the grand, ornate mirror. The seamstress was busy measuring places that needed to be taken in, including the last couple of inches on the flared bottom that needed trimming.
Lana settled on the couch and crossed one long leg over the other, leaning back in the seat as she sipped her champagne. I could practically hear her screaming through the scrutinizing gaze she studied me with. She hadn’t spoken a word since I’d come out of that fitting room, remaining completely silent while I spoke to the woman about what I thought needed fixing.
“Can you give us a minute?” I asked once the seamstress had finished.
The seamstress nodded and left, pulling the door shut when she exited. I watched Lana through the mirror. She twisted one of her caramel spiral curls as she continued looking me up and down. I’d always been jealous of Lana’s hair: the caramel and blonde tight spirals that were always perfect to me, no matter how out of control she might complain that they were at times. She’d cut herself bangs over the winter that perfectly framed her slim, angular face.
“Spit it out,” I said.
“Spit what out?” Lana replied. “I spit champagne on this couch and I might have to call Tyler to pay for it,” she said with a bat of her lashes.
I pressed my lips together thinly. “You know what I mean. I can see it on your face.”
“What, that I don’t feel like I’m looking at anything my best friend would choose for her wedding day?” Lana stood, flowing black satin tank swaying over her thin frame, bangles jingling on her wrist. Her gaze didn’t let up as she came and stood behind me, sinking into one hip and crossing an arm.
“What do you want me to say?” Lana asked.
“The truth,” I replied.
“You look like you want to throw yourself in front of a bus,” Lana said.
“I meant about the dress,” I said. “What do you think of the dress?”
