Not that it will make a bit of difference. I have a feeling this day is gonna be hell on earth—more for Matilda than me, but for me too.
“What’s going on with you and Mattie anyway?”
I look at my brother, perplexed. “Nothing. Why?”
Anthony shrugs, but he’s got a smug expression. “Just didn’t realize you were into mixed-collar dating.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” Seriously. What does it mean?
“She’s below you, man.”
“Matilda?” I blink several times, not knowing where to start. “I’m not dating Matilda for fuck’s sake.”
He slaps my back. “Good to hear. I was starting to wonder about your judgement. Thought maybe you’d had one too many blows to your head or something.”
I’m done with this conversation. If it goes on much longer, I’m either gonna punch him in the face on his wedding day or I’m going to leave. Either way, it will fuck up the wedding, and I’ll never hear the end of it. I turn and walk away.
“Alec,” Anthony shouts at my back. “Where you goin’, bro?”
“I need some air.”
“Hurry back. We’re gonna have a toast. Adrian bought a stellar bottle of whiskey.”
“I’ll be back.” After I cool off.
ChapterTen
Matilda
I’m in hell.The other bridesmaids have been done with hair and makeup for an hour while I’m still getting poked and prodded by the stylists. My naturally curly hair is now as straight as a pin. And shiny. Not that my hair isn’t healthy. It is. It’s just they put something in it that makes it gleam under the florescent lights. Swishing my head back and forth, I’m surprised how long my hair is. I mean, I know it’s longer than it looks. I see it when I brush it out after a shower, but like this, dry and flattened, it’s down to the middle of my back. I kind of like it.
What I don’t care for is my makeup. I look like I’m about to go onto a Broadway stage. It’s thick and dark. My eyes look bigger, though. That’s kind of cool. They’ve used deep browns and beige hues, or neutrals is what the stylist called it. The thing is, it’s thick on my eyelids, and coupled with the fake lashes, I can hardly blink. It’s not a good look. For me, anyway. Everyone else looks beautiful. Especially Vicky. She, honest to goodness, is the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen, and she doesn’t even have her dress on yet. That’s because we’re going to do a walk-through of the ceremony since I’m now the fill-in maid of honor.
And, oh boy, that was a whole thing, let me tell you. Vicky and Aunt Annabelle went back and forth about the issue. Vicky wanted one of the other maids to step up, but as my aunt pointed out, my dress, the same color as the others, is short. Well, not short, but it isn’t floor-length like the other bridesmaids. Therefore, I should be the maid of honor because lots of people ask their maids of honor to wear something slightly different than the other bridesmaids, and since I’m fat, I can’t swap dresses with anyone because it won’t fit on anyone else—this was pointed out by Vicky, of course. Nice of her, I know.
Therefore, it’s decided I will be the maid of honor with the caveat that, “if I fucked it up,” Vicky’s words, she “will murder me in my sleep.”
Maybe she isn’t happy about any of it, but it’s not my doing. I’m not the one who got into a fight with the maid of honor the night before the wedding. She did that. Speaking of… the makeup person does a great job covering up the scratch on my face. You can’t even see it. That should tell you how much stuff they caked on my face.
“Are you finally done?” Vicky snaps at me as I stare at myself in the mirror. “You need to get dressed. Then we can run through this shit show now that Chrissie’s out.”
“I’ll hurry.” I do just that. I slip the dress out of the garment bag and step behind a wooden privacy screen. Out of my jeans and tee, I look down at my best bra and undies. They’re old and not all that supportive up top, but it won’t matter. I’ve got the dress on in no time, but I can’t get it zipped all the way up on my own. “Vicky?” I holler out, but no one answers. Deciding I’ll surely find one of the other bridesmaids out in the hallway to help, I slip on my red converse and limp out the door.
In the hallway, I look left and right. I’ve got my hand on my back, holding the dress together. There’s no one around. I begin to speed limp to the main part of the church. I make it down the long corridor and take a right turn. Just as I round the corner, I run smack-dab into a wall. A wall of muscle.
“Whoa,” Alec says with his hands on my arms. “Slow down, tiger.” I think he called me that last night too. He looks down at me. “You look different.”
“I know. Sort of like a hooker, but it’s what Vicky wants so…. No offense to hookers, by the way.” I turn around. “Can you zip me up?”
“Did you just say you look like a hooker?” I glance over my shoulder and see Alec’s face is pure joy. I know enough about him to know he’s trying hard not to laugh. “Shut it, Alec. We need to hurry to the church to practice before Vicky has my head.”
Alec clears his throat. I feel his hand rest near my waist. Then I hear the zzzz sound of the zipper. When it’s up all the way, I turn back around to face him, using my hands to flatten the dress out. He’s staring down at me.
“I like the dress.” His voice is deep and a little husky. It’s sexy as all get-out, but I need to get those thoughts out of my head. “You’re wrong about the red. It’s beautiful with your skin.”
Friends. We’re just friends.He even said it himself.
“You think so?” I glance down at myself, then shrug. “I guess it’s okay.” Taking his hand in mine, I move past him and tug. “Come on. She already threatened to kill me in my sleep. Let’s not antagonize her any more today.”
