“The guys are here?” I ask.
“Yep, but they won’t see you. The salon is designed in two sections: a tux fitting shop and a bridal boutique. So don’t worry, Scottie isn’t going to see you in your dress until tomorrow.”
We head inside, and the moment we do, five sets of eyes swivel to catch Juliet and me walking in, my dress cradled in Juliet’s arms now.
A seamstress walks over quickly and takes the dress. “I’ll put this in the bridal room.”
Juliet hands over the dress and then puts a gentle hand on my back to escort me towards the waiting woman in the room.
“Perfect, then let’s introduce you to the girls. You’re part of us now.”
I glance over at her, confused. “A part of you? How do you mean?”
A woman with blonde hair and a bright smile gets up and walks over. “You’re one of the wives of the players… Well, after tomorrow, that is. I’m Peyton—Hunter Reed's girlfriend.”
Another woman gets up and offers her hand. “You’re the newest WAG. I’m Cammy—JP Dumont's girlfriend and administrative assistant to Penelope Matthews… the Hawkeyes GM. She’s not here today, but she’s really excited to meet you.”
Juliet starts to point out the two other women, standing off to the side, both smiling back at me. Vivi, Trey Hartley’s girlfriend, and a very pregnant Kendall, Aleksi Mäkelin’s wife, as of a week ago.
Juliet beams. “Ladies, meet Katerina. Scottie’s fiancée and the newest member of our club.”
A chorus of delighted gasps, and I swallow. I wasn’t prepared for everyone to be so excited, so interested… so nice.
The warmth hits me like a wave. It’s… unfamiliar and overwhelming, but not unwelcome. I feel like a fish out of water, but I guess for now, this is my new life, and I need to embrace it if I want to fit in with Scottie and my brother’s world. Which at the moment, if I want to stay in the States and dance, I’ll have to.
Peyton loops her arm through mine, tugging me toward the fitting pedestal. “Okay, show us the dress.”
The boutique hums around me—women laughing, dresses swishing, Cammy muttering about necklines, Peyton insisting Juliet promised them champagne “for morale.”
And for the first time since I left New York…
Maybe I can learn to love it here, even temporarily.
I step into the dressing room. When I emerge, the room goes silent.
I climb the pedestal as the seamstress fusses over the hem, pinning, tucking, smoothing.
I keep my eyes down until Juliet says softly, “Look.”
I lift my head.
My reflection stares back—off-white fabric, soft curls pinned with pearl combs, skin glowing under the lights. I look like someone I used to dream about being.
A bride.
Not a bargaining chip. Not a weapon. Not a Popovich pawn.
Just a woman.
A quiet breath escapes me. My eyes sting at the thought that my brother might be saving me from putting on a wedding dress to marry who my father wants. This might actually work.
“Katerina?” Juliet murmurs. “You okay?”
I nod… barely.
And that’s when the door opens.
Juliet circles me like a general preparing for battle, tugging here, smoothing there, nodding firmly at the seamstress as she pins the last edge of lace along the hem.
