“I think it’s pretty,” she replied. “It honestly is a beautiful dress, but nothing about this is what you wanted.” She began circling around me, checking out every inch of the gown. “It’s mermaid style. You’ve always wanted goddess. It has rhinestones, and you hate sparkle. A gaudy belt? You hate those belts on wedding gowns. Your tits look fantastic, but strapless? You’re going to be pulling at it all night—“
“She’s putting this sticky fabric on the top so it doesn’t fall,” I said.
Lana raised a brow. “This ombre sparkle and tulle on the tail is so heavy that I could put my tiny tits in it and it would still ride down.” She sighed with another long perusal over me, and then met my eyes again. “You look stunning, Clo. It hits all your curves, shows off your body, and will be gorgeous at the black tie affair they have planned… It’s just notyou.”
I hated how much she was right.
Lana gave me a tight-lipped smile, apparently seeing my crestfallen face. “You asked for my opinion,” she said.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, turning and checking out every inch of myself. “Everyone loved it, though,” I said. “I know Tyler will think it’s pretty.”
“He should. His mother helped pick it out,” Lana muttered against her glass.
I glared, and she held her hand up. “I know.” She sighed heavily before broadening her smile, sympathy almost in her eyes.
Lana topped off my champagne and clinked her glass against mine. “So—” she said, suddenly making her way to the door. “You’re a size ten, right?”
“Twelve, sometimes fourteen. Although, in these dresses, I’ve had to go up a couple of sizes,” I replied.
“Perfect. I’ll be right back.”
I didn’t know what she was up to, but I knew there was no point in arguing or even asking.
I turned and stared at myself in the mirror again as she disappeared through the door. She was right. It was nothing that I would ever choose for myself. It was nothing like the dresses I’d poured over in the past.
I gulped back the champagne as the seamstress came back in the room to carefully help me out of it.
Lana appeared twenty minutes later while I threw back my third glass of champagne and waited for her in a robe. She had another dress in her hands, and my stomach dropped when I saw it.
“What are you—“
“Shut up and try it on,” Lana said.
Lana wouldn’t let me see much of the dress as I stepped into it. It was only when she guided me out onto the floor and helped me on the pedestal again that I finally got to gaze at the most perfect gown I’d ever seen.
Thin straps of soft lace appliqué that was a V down to my belly button, showing off the sides of my breasts. Cinched in at the waist. High slit on the lace appliqué skirt. A layer of chiffon came over my left breast like one side of a toga, the same chiffon laying delicately around the skirt.
And black.
I ran my fingers over the poppy flower design on the top and the vine-like pattern on the bottom, feeling how supple it was to the touch. But even as soft as it was, it was nothing compared to the buttery feel of that chiffon. It was like holding a dream in my hands.
This was such a bad idea.
Lana came around and stood before me, sinking into one hip as she crossed her arms and peered me over, a small smile on her face.
“Now, that’s how finding forever is supposed to look,” Lana said.
My heart swelled along with my lungs. Emotion pricked the back of my eyes and behind my nose. I choked out a nervous laugh. “Imagine me showing up in this instead of the other one,” I said.
“Scandal of the century,” Lana laughed. “Damn, this is beautiful. You know, it’s almostGrecian mountainsbeautiful,” she added with an expectant raise of her brow.
I scoffed. “I think the dream of being married in the mountains of Greece has gone out the window,” I said. “I know how much you wanted that vacation, though.”
“I really did,” Lana sighed, then circling the pedestal. “Shame. Where is a Greek god to sweep you off your feet when we need him?” Her grin widened, and I rolled my eyes.
“Stop,” I drawled. “You’re ridiculous.”
She stopped in front of me again, biting her thumbnail and still looking over the dress. “I can’t get over this—Hey, Sarah?” She called out for the boutique owner who had been helping us. Sarah popped her head in a second after, her face lit up as she looked at me in the dress.
