‘Sure. The last thing you want is for his dad to be staring at that incredible rack of yours. Imagine if you’d gone for a low-cut number!’
ERMERRRGERRRDDDD.
‘Ihavegone for a low-cut number. It’s long-sleeved and cuts just below the knee and is the loveliest cornflower blue and OH HOLY SHIT Bruce, it’s got quite a deep plunge. I didn’t think! What am I going to do? Will James’ mum think I’m too slutty for her son? Will his dad talk to my boobs all day long?’
‘Breathe,’ Bruce fans me with a fashion magazine. ‘Firstly, you are the least slutty person I know.’
‘Youonlyknow slutty people,’ I hiss.
Bruce thinks about this for a moment.
‘True. Let me rephrase that. You are the opposite of slutty, Jasmine. You are more of an English rose. All pale, interesting and sort of edgy?’
I look down at the scuffed jeans I’m wearing, holes in the knees because they’re that old rather than a fashion statement, and raise an eyebrow. Bruce averts his gaze and forges on. ‘Have you got a picture of the dress?’
I managed a quick changing room selfie on the rare lunch break when I bought it, so I hand my phone over, covering my eyes as I wait for a response.
Bruce starts laughing. Then he takes a look in my direction and is seized by a second fit of giggles. I fold my arms.
‘BRUCE! Why are you laughing at me? Have I chosen the world’s most inappropriate wedding dress? The last time I went to a wedding with a boyfriend, we snuck out the back and drank Blue WKDs with the rest of the underage teenagers there. I ended the night being sick in my bag and let me tell you, my Tamagotchi did not survive the onslaught. THAT’s how long it’s been! Now I’m a so-called adult and I really don’t know what I’m doing. Am I going to give one of the great uncles a heart attack? James will definitely end it if me and myboobs kill off one of his relatives. Violet and I are flying to France first thing tomorrow for four nights, and when we get back I’ll be so busy that there will be zero time to find a decent replacement. This is a disaster!’
I pause for breath while Bruce wipes the tears from his eyes.
‘Oh honey. This dress is most definitely not inappropriate. When you said it had a deep plunge I was picturing Rihanna at carnival. Heaven knows I’m as keen on a jewel-encrusted bikini and feather crown as the next man. But Jasmine, this is not a deep plunge.’
Bruce zooms into my boob area on the photo and unsuccessfully stifles another smirk.
‘I’m seeing collar bone and the tiniest hint of tit wrapped up together in one badass dress. It is stunning. You are going to look fabulous.’
‘Do you really think so? You’re not just saying that to be nice?’
‘Cross my heart and hope never to tan Chace Crawford.’
I gasp. ‘Your ultimate crush and dream celebrity to tan?’
Violet’s interest has been piqued and she pulls up a seat, carefully stretching her sticky golden limbs out in front of her. ‘Are you guys talking romance? How are things going with James?’
Every now and then, Violet can actually be quite sweet. She’s definitely not the worst boss in the world.
‘We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now.’
‘That must be a personal best for you!’ She snorts.
Can I take that whole not-the-worst-boss-in-the-world comment back pls?
‘What?’ Violet asks, all wide-eyed innocence. ‘You just don’t have a great track record when it comes to men. You either fall head over heels with a guy who ends updumping you or you find a ridiculous reason to dump them. Didn’t you end things with a guy when you found out that he fell one inch short of your six-foot-minimum requirements?’
That *may* have happened.
‘Oh and what was the name of that one you broke up with because you found out he lied about his age?’ Violet’s warming to her theme.
‘Frank the Fetus,’ butts in Bruce, biting his lip.
‘Yes, thank you for reminding me. . .’ I reply, over the sound of Violet falling into a fit of hysteria.
The truth is, I don’t have the best dating history and some of the dates I’ve been onhavebeen borderline comical. . . In hindsight and after drowning the memories in a shit tonne of gin. And then a bit more gin. Still, it’s never ideal to be the single girl at the butt of everyone’s jokes. I may be a tiny bit picky, but surely there’s nothing wrong with that? I’ve experienced first-hand the all-consuming heartache that comes from an unexpected breakup. From finding out that the man you thought of as pure gold was nothing more than fool’s gold, at best. Seeing someone you love with all your heart doubled over in physical pain after a revelation like that never leaves you. I guess that’s why I’m so particular. I know what I like in a man and I’d really rather not cut corners. As for James, he’s 100 per cent my type on paper. I am trying so hard not to put any pressure on myself – on us – but I do wonder if James might be the real deal. Could my luckfinallybe in? That’s why I’m all the more nervous about meeting his parents next weekend. Every time I think about it, I want to barf a tiny bit.
‘I’m sorry Jas,’ says Bruce. ‘Come on, back to James. . .’
