The Bridesmaid's Checklist: Laura's Wedding (BCL Book 1) (6 page)

Laura looked breathtaking.

Who cares if it went over the budget by a few hundred? Mouths were covered, tears were shed, and everyone had something to say.

“You look breathtaking.”

“This is the one.”

“You have to get this.”

We hugged her and compliment her, gushing all over ourselves.

“I agree,” she said. “This is the one.”

A few minutes later we were at the register, and Laura gave the saleswoman
Eddie’s
black credit card. “You’re glowing,” the woman said after handing her back the card. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.”

The comment made Laura smile, but not me. I’d heard that before. I knew everyone made a similar comment to brides-to-be. I also noticed that the woman’s big smile didn’t reach her eyes. I knew for a fact that every single wedding-related salesperson said the same.

Nevertheless, if it made Laura happy, I’d remain silent.

It had been a very productive day.

“
I
thought I asked you to respect the budget, Kassandra,” Edward angrily barfed at the phone as soon as I answered it. It was easy to know who it was; his name didn’t appear on my iPhone’s screen, since I didn’t have his contact, and then he was the only person who liked calling me by my full name.

“How did you get my number?” I asked.

Edward didn’t even acknowledge my inquiry, just continued on his quest. “I trusted you to help me keep Laura under control.”

“I did everything I could, but it isn’t exactly easy.” By now, I would expect him to know that Laura liked spending money. She was the most spoiled of my friends. “Laura’s used to getting her way.”

“Well then, I overestimated you, Kassandra.” There it was—he still always found a way to make me feel like crap. I’d forgotten that. He usually presented me with a challenge, and when I was unable to meet his standards, he made sure I would never forget.

But I wasn’t the same girl anymore.

“Whatever, Edward. I just got home. I’d like to rest.” I’d had enough of this conversation. I was ready to end it and dedicate the rest of my long Friday night to relaxing.

“Next time, please keep the budget in mind,” he reminded me.

I wasn’t about to keep my mouth shut. “Next time, stay and tell her yourself.”

I hung up.

He needed to grow some balls. So did I.

Why was he calling me at 10:00 p.m. after a long day of dress-shopping to grill me about not staying inside his budget? The worst part was that a tiny piece of me still felt the need to please the guy.

The bastard. I needed to learn to send him to hell.

I went inside my room and undressed. All I wanted was a bath and some rest. Sadly, I was interrupted in the middle of my relaxing wash. My phone rang again some minutes later, and since no name displayed on the screen, I was sure it was Edward again. I was going to let him have it this time.

“You can freaking go talk to someone else about your stupid budget. I’ve had it with you for the night. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Well, hello to you too, babe,” a laughing voice said on the other line.

That wasn’t Edward.

“Who’s this?” I was done with those mysterious calls. Right there, I decided I wasn’t going to answer the damn phone if a name didn’t display on my screen.

“It’s Josh, gorgeous.”
Now
I connected the husky voice to the person on the line. “I heard Ed talking to you and completely agree that he acted like a dick. I wanted to check how you were doing.”

Wow, he was concerned for me. I definitely hadn’t expected this.

“Why?”

He laughed again. It was amazing how my body tingled with the sound of his laughter. Not good, really. I had to remind myself once more that he was up to nothing but trouble. “Haven’t I said it enough times, already? Because I happen to like you, Kass.”

“Well, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” I was more annoyed than fine. It wasn’t Josh’s fault, but his friend’s. However, I just didn’t feel like talking about it. “Goodbye, Josh.”

“Hey, Kass, wait.” This time he sounded serious.

“What now?”

“Would you like to have a drink with me tonight?”

Really? He’d just asked me out on a date? It wasn’t that late, but I certainly wasn’t in the mood.

“No,” was my simple, cutting answer.

“Oh, come on, Kass. I know you need a drink.” He was completely right, but I was completely drained.

“I might need one, but I’m tired,” I replied.

“Then I can come visit and rub some oil on that rockin’ body of yours.” Oh yeah, I’d caught that tint of mischief on his voice. He was throwing bait, and he certainly wasn’t going to catch me. At least, not tonight.

“No, thanks.”

I didn’t count on Josh persisting so much. “Come on, babe. You know you want to.”

I laughed. This guy just didn’t understand the words
not
interested
.

“Stop flirting with me. It won’t happen.”

“I’ll stop flirting when it happens. Maybe.” He was probably right. The only way for him to desist might be to sleep with me. Afterwards, he’d probably lose his interest.

I wasn’t going to play that game. But he’d made me laugh. Somehow, I always seemed to relax near him, and even though we were only talking now, I still felt it.

“What about a little chat, then?” he asked.

This deprived us of any alcohol or physical contact, so, why not?

“Chat about what?”

“Your day,” he said.

He wanted to know about my day? That was cute. And easy. Well then, I’d tell him about my day.

“Are you sure you want to hear about it?” I was going to give him one more chance to back down. I still couldn’t see a guy like him interested in a wedding shopping spree.

“Very,” came his answer.

“It’s about dresses. You might get bored.” At least I could be honest with him.

“You never bore me.” Oh, but he sounded too honest.

“Okay, then. Don’t complain later.”

Per his request, I told Josh about my day, which was summarized into two words: dress shopping. After we helped Laura choose her wedding dress, we talked to her about the bridesmaid options. We had three colors in mind: pale yellow, turquoise and coral. Very primary-colors-like. Apparently, I was the only one who wanted the turquoise, so I was rapidly ruled out. There was a lot of going back and forth from the yellow to the coral, everyone undecided until one of the saleswomen practically told us that coral would be more visual with the colors of the sea and that yellow wasn’t easily worn by anyone. Laura agreed that coral would be a much
happier
and
elegant
choice, and that was the end of the discussion. We tried different dresses in that color spectrum and took pictures. We’d drawn the unspoken conclusion that since Laura was all on board with strapless dresses, ours would also follow that rule. While the girls and I left the store promising we’d come back to buy our dresses later, Laura, on the other hand, paid for hers in full.

“I bet you look awesome in blue.”

“I bet you look lovely in pale yellow.”

“I bet you’ll look hot in coral.”

Apparently, this was Josh’s only contribution to the conversation, but he was making me laugh—a lot. “So you think I look good in everything?”

“Absolutely,” he affirmed. “But you know that, right?”

I didn’t respond his question. I knew it was rhetorical.

“I bet you look even better naked.” Josh paused. “And in my bed.”

This was not where I wanted our conversation to go. We needed to have some distance, here.
I
needed to keep my distance.

“Keep that up and I’ll hang up on you, right now.”

Then the line went dead.

I’d really had no intention of hanging up on him; I just wanted him to behave. I felt kind of bad, and only a little guilty, when I thought about it. He’d probably lost reception and the call dropped, but I couldn’t shake the possibility that I’d finally pissed him off enough with my rejections to make him hang up on
me
, instead. I’d actually really enjoyed our conversation.

I decided my bath was over. The call had been a very nice compliment to my relaxation time, and now I needed to get ready for bed.

A few minutes later, someone knocked on my door. It was late and I was already in my pajamas, which consisted of multi-colored boy shorts and a white camisole. Usually on weekends, I’d be wearing some sexy set of lingerie and enjoying the company of some glorious hunk. Instead, I’d spent all day shopping with my girlfriends, and I felt exhausted and without energy to go find a man for the night.

I looked through the peephole on my door before even turning on the lights. It was Josh—and this was even more unexpected than the phone call.

As I opened the door, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I ran out of battery and I wanted to hear the rest of your story.” He stepped inside my apartment and kissed me on the cheek. He looked as breathtaking as he had this afternoon at the bridal boutique.

“That’s it?” I asked, blinking back my surprise.

“Yep,” he responded.

“Weren’t you out someplace?”

“Yeah, I was. Then again, I wanted to hear the rest of the story.” Josh found his way to my white couch and sat.

“Just like that.” I couldn’t believe he was here just because he wanted to know what happened next.

“I was close.” Then he reached for me and pulled me to sit next to him.

It took me a moment to sit comfortably. After all, he was completely dressed and I was in my underwear.

“So, what happened after the bridal shop?” He seemed surprisingly interested in my account.

So I continued. It was a little strange, to be honest. But strangely easy.

After saying our farewells to Laura, we carried out our plan to go to Marisol’s cousin to get our dresses done. Natalie drove with me and we had some time to discuss
Eddie
, Laura, and me. She begged me to talk to Laura about it, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to do that. But I knew she was right. We finally got to Maria Fernanda’s shop, and all of us were mesmerized by her beautiful designs. It was so easy to select a model and the fabric; besides, she was asking peanuts for our dresses and she even gave Denise the option of making small payments a week for hers.

Maria Fernanda was the perfect person to solve our bridesmaid’s wardrobe. I only had one complaint. She used one of the phrases I hate the most about weddings: “You'll definitely wear it again.”
Girl, I know they’re your dresses, but trust me. You never do. Haven’t you seen that movie about the girl with the gazillion bridesmaid dresses?
That single comment started a very heated argument about the whole
‘wear the dress again issue.’
Which was something I had to add to my checklist:

Bridezilla Checklist

☑
Enslaved bridesmaids

☑
Money woes

☑
Attire Backfire

Because no one wants to spend a dime in a dress that they’ll only wear once.

Fortunately, our seamstress superstar was the clear answer to that problem. Not only was she asking for a fraction of the cost we’d pay in a boutique in L.A., she also offered to modify the dress after the event so we could wear it again. Apparently, she already had it all figured out with slight changes here and there. She was really going to make some serious business with all of us and all the new customers we’d be sending her way after this.

Unsurprisingly, we were all pretty happy with the result of our trip. We even decided on a wedding gift for Laura that would have her smiling, and we knew she needed it. It had been a really productive day.

“Didn’t you ask her to make you that turquoise dress you wanted?” Josh asked after I finished my story.

“Of course.” I smiled at him. I liked it that he’d paid attention, apparently serious about getting to know me better. That simple thought made me happy.

I couldn't really remember how it happened, but somehow, Josh and I were sitting at opposites sides of my couch and he was rubbing my feet.

It felt wonderful.

He also seemed to get more comfortable as we continued our conversation. Josh placed his boots on the side of the couch, hung his jacket on one of my winged chairs, and remained only wearing his black jeans and shirt—a very greaser-like mien.

He looked hot.

“Did you get anything for the other events?” How could he be so curious about my dress selection.

“I didn’t. But I might go back soon. She had wonderful ideas.” I’d thought, during our visit, that I might as well choose a style; she could make me something for the engagement party only a few weeks away. “Maybe get her to make me a dress for the next event.” I couldn’t avoid yawning at this point. I was really tired, even if it was only half an hour after midnight. It had been a long day.

“Tell me when you do,” he requested, continuing his tender ministrations. Now it wasn’t only my feet he massaged; he’d moved to my calves as well. His hands were warm and so very soft. It was impressive for a man like him to have such delicate hands. It shouldn’t have impressed me that he could be so smooth, but he was. This evening had been full of surprises. I couldn’t concentrate in much else as his hands caressed my muscles in a slow, tender motion. “It’s always good to know a good seamstress for the girls.”

I probably should’ve made a nasty comment about his womanizer tendencies, but I didn’t. I felt so tired and relaxed, I couldn’t care less.

“Are you doing some planning for the engagement party tomorrow?”

When I heard his voice, I opened my eyes and noticed that I’d been falling asleep. “Yep.”

“Need some help?” he asked softly, his mouth close to my ear.

“Sure.” I felt him move from the couch. He was probably getting ready to leave. I did not expect his arms underneath me as he lifted me from the couch. I was so tired, I barely noticed when he placed me on my bed and covered me with the comforter.