“Thank you.”
“For what?” He takes a drink of water and watches me, looking thoroughly confused.
“For this. For putting all of this together. For introducing me to Jada.”
“Nah, don’t thank me for this.”
“Why’s that?”
He laughs and pulls on his suit jacket. “I only introduced you to Jada so someone else can deal with your bullshit. I’ve suffered long enough and am more than ready to pawn you off onto someone else.”
“Fuck you, Max.”
“Fuck you, too.”
SIXTY-FOUR
Jada
I hearthe zipper go up my back, and I hold my breath, hoping this dress fits. I say a silent prayer that there are no hiccups.
I feel it climb from my waist to the middle of my back. It stops right below my shoulder blades. The front cinches against my chest perfectly.
“It fits,” I breathe out, relief washing over me.
“Did you doubt me? I mean, really, Jada.”
“Well, you never know.”
Kari turns me to face her. The corners of her mouth touch her eyes as she gasps.
“What?” I look down. Everything looks right. It looks like it fits.
What if there’s a rip? What if it’s torn? What if ...
“It’s perfect,” Kari whispers. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Are you sure?”
She points at the mirror, and we turn, staring at our reflection.
My dress fits me like a glove, exactly how I envisioned it when Isaw it in the magazine. I look demure and sophisticated, just like I wanted.
“Cane will love this,” I breathe, turning both ways to get the full effect.
“Yeah, on the floor.”
I laugh, knowing she’s right. Cane never cares what I wear. I can wear sweatpants or a miniskirt, and he’s happy all the same.
He’s happy when I’m happy.
The thought causes warmth to slide throughout my body. I think back on our relationship and how much I’ve changed since I met him. How broken I was the night he walked into Blanca’s and how whole I feel now.
I hated what I went through with Decker. I cried more tears in those years than all of the tears I’ve shed through the rest of my life together. But if it took that experience to get me here today, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.
I look at my sister, fitted with a gorgeous gold bridesmaid gown. It is strapless, the color of warm honey, and cinches at her narrow waist. It flutters out a touch and stops at her knees.
“Look at us.” I smile. “We look like we should be walking a runway.”
