Page 6 of Fauxmance

"Can be easily fixed," Mom said. "If you don't remember, your mother is one of the best seamstresses of the south, definitely #1 in Georgia."

"But Sean—"

"Is a selfish jerk who can go suck a lemon," Mom said, and I couldn't help but smile a little. "You'll find someone, Magnolia. And if you don't, just escort yourself."

My eyes widened. "Do you think Jas would let me do that?"

She shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"That would be awesome," I said, my mind already churning. "I wouldn't be able to participate in the dancing, of course. But I'd love to walk down the aisle on my own steam. That would be kind of awesome actually."

Mom gave me a nod then gestured to the dress. "You take that off and let me work my magic. It'll all work out. You and your sister are going to be the most beautiful girls at the wedding, hands-down."

"Thanks, Mom," I said. "I love you so much—and not because you're about to save my dream. But just because you're you."

"I love you, too," she said. "And hey, didn't you have somewhere to be? It's Friday."

"Oh my gosh! You're right."

My weekly appointment with my therapist was in fifteen minutes. I'd need tohurry or I'd miss it.

"Thanks again," I said, blowing her akiss as I left. "Love you most."

She laughed and waved me on. "See you at dress rehearsal."

I got into my car and headed for the other side of town. After the day I'd been having, I had a lot to say to Dr.Moorehouse. Therapy always helped. It would feel good to get everything off my chest.

When I hit a pothole on the way there, I grew even more determined.

I needed this appointment.

Badly.

It was going to be my saving grace.

I wasn't going to let my crappy ex, an ill-fitting dress and one nasty pothole-that'd-probably-cause-a-flat get the best of me. Bridesmaids never say die. And after this therapy session, I'd be ready to rock that wedding tomorrow.

CHAPTER 2

This had to be a joke.

I'd driven (with a tire going flat, I was sure of it) the rest of the way to my doctor's office, parked in the lot, raced in, boarded the elevatorand traveled up five flights—only to find a hastily scribbled note attached to the door. It read:

Away on personal business.

FAMILY CRISIS.

All of today's appointments are CANCELLED.

Will reschedule ASAP.

Stay healthy,

Dr. M

I re-read the note several times. There weren't a lot of words, but my mind refused to take it in. The lights were off. That should've been my first clue something was amiss. The small waiting room was empty—which never happened. Dr.Moorehousehad a steady stream of clients. Honestly, it always made me feel better, knowing I wasn't the only one who needed help. And…yep, the door to the office was indeed locked.

My first thought: Jeez, I hope everything's okay with her family.

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