“Wedding dresses are just the first layer of lingerie.” A metallic sound sliced through the air as the teeth of the zipper connected.
“Huh. That is a deeply sexy way to think of it.”
“As are you, my dear.” He let out a squeal that was somehow both delighted and exasperated. “It’s perfect. God, I am so good at my job. You are a goddamn work of art. Open your eyes. Drink it up!”
I opened my eyes and my hands slowly drifted up to cover my O-shaped lips. “You made this, Luca?”
He studied his work in the reflection of the three-way mirror. “Well, sort of. I designed it. The seamstress constructed it, and I put on the finishing touches.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him, a touch of admonishment in my tone. “We have a seamstress and you made Nolan fix his own dressing gown?”
He shrugged noncommittally. “What doesn’t kill him, et cetera, et cetera.”
I turned back to the mirror to fully appreciate Luca’s work. The neckline was a low swoop with delicate straps that cut over my shoulders and down my back into a ballet-style back that curved dangerously low. Floral lace crept up the bodice, gathering tightly at my waistline and then spreading down into the skirt, which flowed out into soft, full layers of delicate tulle.
When Luca told me I wouldn’t need a bra or a corset and that he’d built all the correct undergarments into the dress, I was hesitant. I loved and trusted Luca, of course, but fat girls were specific about our clothing, especially our undergarments. We knew what worked. We knew what was available to us. And I didn’t mind showing a little bit of skin or letting a pretty bra strap stick out, but I also didn’t know if I’d ever worn something as fine and delicate as a dress like this without any hint of bands or lines. And while wardrobe actually was always a bit of a trust fall for me, something about the idea of stepping into a wedding gown for the opening scene ofDuke the Halls, when Felicity left her modern-day fiancé at the altar, made me feel even more vulnerable in a way I had no interest in parsing apart.
“Well, holy fucking shit,” Sunny said as she froze in the doorway. Teddy stumbled to a halt behind her, holding a turkey leg in his fist. “I’m not going to say you look like a virgin, because I don’t believe in virginity, but you look like a virgin. Hi, how are you? May I sex your body, please?”
I glanced down at myself once more, my chest and cheeks flushed pink. “Are you sure this is okay on me?”
“How dare you?” Luca demanded, sounding out each syllable. “How dare you question my creative intuition and also my ability to make you look so incredibly hot in a wholesome Christmas movie?”
Teddy cleared his throat and took a bite of his turkey leg. “You look great, Bee.”
Sunny held her phone up and snapped a photo. “For your moms... and my spank bank.”
“Forward that to me,” Luca requested.
I rolled my eyes, even though it felt a little—okay, a lot—nice to be drooled and fawned over.
Teddy turned to me. “Bee, your moms are hounding me about scheduling a Christmas call with you and finding out what your wrap time on Christmas Eve is. Can you please, for the love of cheesy tots and Natty Light, call them back? Every morning, thefirst thing I feel is the sting of regret that I ever gave them my phone number that time they visited the set ofCamp Stepbrother.”
“Every time I try to call, they’re already asleep,” I whined.
Teddy held his hands up, turkey leg included. “Not my problem. Sunny, Luca, we’ve got some logistics to work through.”
“Hey,” I said, “have you heard anything about the last page of the script yet? I was supposed to get the updated version with my call sheet yesterday.”
Teddy shook his head. “Gretchen’s the Pearl Wrangler.”
Luca held a hand out for me as I stepped down from the platform, and then he picked up the train of my dress before leading me behind the partition so I could change in private—even though everyone in this room had seen my boobs so often that they were about as exciting as an Applebee’s menu.
Luca unzipped me and helped me step out of the dress, but before he could leave, I turned with my arms crossed over my tits, and said, “I never really dreamed of having a wedding dress, but now if I ever do have those dreams, this is the one I’ll be wearing. It’s perfect.” It was true. We’d already filmed the scene in which I wore a tattered tulle skirt and overcoat—the scene where the duke found me stumbling through a snowstorm in what was left of the wedding dress—but the actual dress was better than anything I could have imagined.
He sighed with satisfaction. “It really is.” Which was basicallythank youin Luca’s language. “You okay in here? I think we’re going to drink our way through this last week of filming at the Dirty Snowball.”
I nodded and he left to hang up the dress as I began to dig through my pile of clothing to find my chiming phone.
Mom:Call your mothers, dear.
Missed Call from Jack Hart
Jack:You might want to call me back if you don’t want this whole vanilla movie thing to blow up in your face.
Jack was still pissed at me for canceling on him. I’d planned on making it up to him as soon as I got back to L.A., but this text sounded more like a threat than anything else. I’d call him back later, but shooting with him was out of the question even if I did feel bad about how things were shaking out for him post-divorce.
Nolan:Asking for a friend. Are you free around... now?
