Page 87 of Break Me, Daddy

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” Beckett said with a chuckle that raked down Holden’s nerves.

“So what the hell do I do about it? How do I make her see this was never about her not being good enough?”

“Actually… I may have an idea.” Leaning forward, Ice grinned. “I watched this scene once at another club, back in DC. And I think it’s exactly what you’re looking for.”

“I’m listening.”

Frankie

“Oh my gosh! It’s gorgeous!”

Tears dampened Frankie’s eyes as she watched her best friend in the whole world twirl in a gorgeous white ball gown, covered in tiny pink flowers. “I have to agree with Ivy. You look incredible, Lottie-baby.”

“Yeah?” A flush that matched the flowers on her dress rose to Lottie’s face as she turned to examine herself in the mirror. “It really is beautiful. I’m just not sure it’s the one, you know?”

“I do,” Frankie assured her, lifting her champagne flute in solidarity. “Onto the next one.”

They went through three more, with Lottie growing more and more upset as she rejected each one.

“Maybe we should just elope,” she said with a sigh, twisting around to view the back—or lack thereof—of the dress she was currently trying out. “Forget the wedding, just go to Vegas or something.”

Passing her glass off to Cordelia, Frankie rose from her chair and stepped up onto the small stage where Lottie was giving her wedding fashion show. “Let’s go pick something else.”

“What’s the point?” Lottie whined, but despite her protests, she allowed Frankie to lead her back to the dressing room.

Nudging Lottie through the door, Frankie flashed a smile for the attendants. “Can we have a moment?”

The woman who’d been helping Lottie with her selections inclined her head. “Of course. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

When she disappeared again, Frankie pulled the door shut behind her and turned to her best friend. “Okay. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Lottie, already in the process of sliding the dress from her shoulders, shrugged. “Nothing’s going on.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been chomping at the bit to get this wedding planned and now you’re claiming you want to elope? Did something happen with Braden?”

“No. He’s been amazing. It’s just…” Tears shimmered in Lottie’s pale eyes. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.”

Shit, shit, shit. A crying bride wasnoton the agenda for today. “What do you mean?”

“My mom. She’s supposed to be here, helping me with all this, telling me I chose the wrong linens or that I can’t wear a strapless dress in the winter. But she’s not and it’s all wrong and I just?—”

Rushing forward, Frankie wrapped her arms around Lottie’s shaking shoulders. “I know, honey. It’s not fair.”

For several long minutes, Lottie clung to her, sobbing into her shoulder as Frankie gently rocked her from side to side. When the tears had mostly passed, she lifted her head, sniffling and wiping at her damp eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for everything you guys are doing.”

“But it’s not the same. I get it. You don’t have to apologize to me or anyone, Lottie. Do we need to put a pin in the dress shopping for today?”

“No. I want to do this. I’m just having a moment.”

A knock on the door interrupted their talk and Frankie eased it open a fraction, surprised to find Cordelia on the other side, holding up her phone.

“I’ve got Braden on the line,” she whispered, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Seemed like Lottie might need her Daddy.”

“I think you might be right. Thanks, Delia.”

“Don’t mention it.”

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