Page 40 of The Wedding Crush

A few seconds later, Morgan and Ace come bounding back down the steps to wait by the car.

Stalling, I shoot Stefano another glance. “Don’t let me forget to go over them when we meet at two, but Morgan gave me a list ofrequests…” I drag the word out for dramatic effect.

The corner of his mouth kicks up. “Do I even want to know?”

I cover my face with my hand. “Oh God, no. Think choreographed pairs dances as we enter the ceremony…”

“Sadly, I’m prepared for worst-case scenarios concerning my brother, so I might be equipped to help.”

Equipped? Really?

It’s absolutely corny. A totally, fittingly and unknowingly dirty innuendo, and so comically him.

Inside I’m cracking up because it’s not friendship or aligning stars, but somehow, laughter and comfort feel like a step in the right direction between us.

Just then, Morgan reminds me of the time, and as I tell Stefano I’ll see him in a few hours, climb into the car, and pull onto the main road, my breath catches in my throat.

I’m more looking forward to our meeting than dress shopping with my best friend.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Avery

We make itto Bridal Bliss with ten minutes to spare, and thankfully, everyone else is already here.

Corralling our group to the right of the entrance, I clear my throat to grab everyone’s attention.

“Before Shanice calls us in for the dress appointment, let’s take a moment to go over some ground rules,” I say, fishing out dual-purpose judging/paddle fans from my tote, instructing the ladies to, “Take one then pass the stack to the next person.”

Morgan giggles as she reads, “Love it! I say yes to this dress,” then turns it over, scanning the “Hmm…it’s a no from me” on the flip side.

Functional, fabulous, and a fan, in case things get heated.

Logistically speaking, I’ve come prepared.

By no stretch of the imagination do I believe eight strong-willed women won’t have as many opinions about Morgan’s wedding attire. Including the bride, we’ve got four Sister Circle members, Chiara (honorary Sister Circle status), Victoria Fortemani, and Morgan’s mom, Georgia. Ace is here too, but wedding gowns aren’t exactly his thing. Order and structure are nonnegotiables.

“Now, I know we’re all super excited to be a part of this beautiful tradition. I’m sure no one has been creating Pinterest boards and leafing through bridal magazines…” Everyone laughs, guiltily. “However, in the interest of saving time, and to keep Morgan’s decision at the forefront, once we’re seated, you’ll each have twenty minutes to browse through exclusive designer collections for a dress—that’s singular—for our bride to try on.”

“Ooh, I love this idea.” Valerie smiles warmly.

Chiara squees excitedly with her.

I don’t miss Victoria and Georgia sharing an impressed glance either.

Even though I’m a smidge salty that Victoria callously, thoughtlessly wants to invite Stefano’s ex-wife to his brother’s wedding, even though she’s clearly basking in “greener pastures,” I’m so glad they’re here supporting Morgan.

“Think of this as a front-row seat at an extremely condensed fashion show. Two hours. Eight dresses. Three bottles of champagne!”

Monica and Seneca quietly hoot and holler.

This is still a business establishment.

When Shanice finally ushers us into the viewing area, everyone—except for Morgan—claims their seats around the raised platform. After I settle Ace on the floor next to my chair with his iPad, earbuds, and cars, the ladies are raring to go. Then, just like that, we drop off our belongings, and it’s a veritable tulle and lace free-for-all.

Monica runs roughshod toward an A-line number with a cinched waist and diamond-encrusted bodice. Seneca, Chiara, and Valerie get lost in tea-length. Georgia is drowning in ball gowns.Both of which are distinctly not Morgan’s taste nor her vibe.But Victoria and I rightly find our way to modern mermaid and trumpet cuts.

By the time we’ve selected our dresses, hung them in Morgan’s dressing room, and we settle in our seats again, it feels like curtain-up.

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