Maggie says, “Sounds perfect. Thank you.” Then she settles back in her chair, sipping her champagne, her eyes dancing over the rim of her glass as she makes a shooing motion for me to go into the dressing room.
Giving her my signature narrow-eyed glare, I go into the dressing room anyway, stripping down to my underwear and putting on the skirt slip. Crossing my arms over my chest, I call, “I’m ready.”
The door cracks open, and a dress comes through the opening. I can’t even see Shannon amidst the froth of tulle and satin. “Arms up!” she chirps.
Gamely, I do as directed, and the dress slips over my head. As it’s going on, I realize there are wide straps, so I angle my arms to go through them correctly.
While she seemed a little annoyed that Maggie and I have clear ideas of what I want, she at least starts us out with something that might fit those parameters.
Once the dress is on me, Shannon appears. “Turn around, and I’ll lace you up.” And that’s when I realize this is a corset style like she mentioned earlier. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I present her with my back.
She talks about the dress as she tugs and pulls. “There’s a modesty panel in place right now below the lacing. That way, you can still wear a bra if you prefer. However, it’s easy enough to put bra cups into something like this, then you can leave the back open. Not everyone likes showing that much skin, though, so it’s up to you.”
“Sounds good,” I murmur, dropping my arms as the dress conforms to my body.
“Done!” she says, sounding inordinately satisfied. “Come out and take a look in the big mirror out here.”
She backs out of the dressing room and indicates that I should stand on the dais. I feel a little silly standing on a stage and twirling around. “I feel like I should have my violin,” I say to Maggie.
Grinning, she shakes her head. “You’re not allowed to play at your own wedding. Too bad you don’t know any musicians here yet. It’d be fun if you had some friends playing for you.”
I mumble my agreement, then turn to face the triple mirrors. “Wow,” is all I say.
“You look stunning,” agrees Maggie.
“I’m honestly surprised at how well that fits,” Shannon comments as well. “The silhouette is perfect for you.”
It’s a simple dress, white satin with seams that follow the line of my body before flaring into an A-line skirt that falls a little below my knees. It has just enough poof to be pretty without being over the top.
“I love it,” I breathe.
Maggie turns to Shannon, a wide smile on her face. “I think we’ve found our dress.”
“On the first try? You don’t want to try on any of the others?”
I shake my head, staring at my reflection as though transfixed, like a character from Greek myth, but Maggie stands. “Let me just look through the rack. I’ll see if there’s anything else that seems likely. But there’s a solid chance, this is the one.”
Shannon’s smile seems more real now. “Feel free to take a look,” she says to Maggie, including me in the invitation as well. “Let me know which one you want to try on next.”
Stepping down from the dais, I join Maggie at the rack. We peruse the offerings, but none of them are as nice as this one. I shake my head. “I want this one,” I say, surprised at how easy it is to make the decision once the right dress is on my body. I almost don’t want to take it off.
Maggie grins. “Then that’s the one we’ll get.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jason
“She wouldn’t even letme see the dress,” I complain to Bouchard as we drive to the Arboretum. Hailey had said she didn’t care where we got married, but I saw the way her face lit up when she saw this place. So I booked it immediately.
He shrugs, totally unbothered. “Isn’t it bad luck, though? That makes sense, after all.”
“Well, normally, sure, but …”
When he doesn’t immediately say anything, I glance at him to find him looking at me, eyebrow quirked. “But?” he prompts.
I shift in my seat, drumming my thumbs on the steering wheel. “But it’s not like that.”
“Are you sure? It’s not like you don’t believe in luck, Mr. I Won’t Wash My Socks If We’re On A Winning Streak.”
