Page 97 of The Love Playbook

My stomach churns at the thought. Part of me can’t believe I’m here, but before I can respond, she motions toward a narrow hallway at the back of the store. “The fitting area is just down the hall to the right. Barb is waiting there with our associate, Marti.”

I try for a smile, but it’s wobbly at best, so I brush past her and follow her directions.

At the end of the hallway, I make a right as she said and step into a large room filled with plush ivory chairs and mirrors covering every square inch. Each fitting room is curtained off with pale chiffon, offering a sense of privacy despite the boutique’s open design. On the far wall, sits a coffee bar as well as a wet bar and that’s where I find Barb quietly sipping a glass of champagne while chatting with another sales associate, who I assume is Marti.

My heels click on the marble tiles, and both heads turn.

Barb’s face lights up immediately, her blue eyes shining as I try for a smile, this time succeeding. “Sorry I’m late. I got held up at my last class,” I lie.

The truth is, I contemplated canceling. Even on the drive here, I wanted nothing more than to turn back around and forget the deal I made with my father because the thought of trying on maid of honor dresses for his second marriage and helping Barb pick out a wedding gown while she recites her vows makes me want to vomit. The only thing that got me here is the reminder of how happy Chris was when I told him?and the fact that my father already cut my mother a check, one she desperately needs.

“It’s fine. Marti and I were just talking about you.” Barb smiles. “Champagne?” She lifts an untouched glass off the countertop beside her, and I nod.

If I’m to make it through the night, I’m going to need all the liquid courage I can get.

Stepping forward, I take the offered champagne, then accept a one-armed hug from Barb before I down half the glass at once.

“Now, I hope you don’t mind,” she says, hooking her arm in mine, “but?”

“You guys already picked a few dresses for me to try?”

When Barb winces, I reassure her with a smile. “The other sales lady told me, but it’s totally fine.” Honestly, I don’t care what the hell I wear to this thing. It’s not exactly a memory I want to embrace.

“Well, don’t be afraid to voice your opinion and pick something else,” she says as we come to a stop in front of one of the dressing rooms. “I want whatever you’re comfortable in. Anything is on the table. All that matters is that you love the dress you get.”

“We’ve hung the dresses inside already,” Marti says, pulling the chiffon curtain aside. “But if you need a different size, or none of these suit you, just holler. I like to hover in the background until I’m needed. I find most people want to enjoy the experience without constantly being bombarded, but I’ll be right there if you need me.” She points to a small desk across the room. “Barbie has you booked for the bridal suite for the next three-and-a-half hours, so you have tons of time. A small catered supper will be set out for you in a little over an hour, but until then, we have plenty of champagne, bottled water, and chocolate-covered strawberries on the bar.”

Barb’s cheeks pinken as I glance over at her, my mouth agape. “Your father reserved it for us,” she says, playing with her hands out in front of herself. “I told him it was a bit extravagant,scheduling a private fitting like this, but he insisted. I think he was just so excited when you told him you’d come that he wanted to pull out all the stops and make it truly special.” She shrugs, her expression sheepish. “I told him I’m just glad you’re here. I would’ve done this any time, with a million other ladies crammed into this very room.”

Damn. Way to make a girl feel like shit.

Here I am, wishing I were absolutely anywhere else in the world right now, and Barb is being the world’s biggest sweetheart.

This isn’t about her,I remind myself.It’s about my father and why he shouldn’t be getting married.

But that’s no reason why I can’t try and make this evening enjoyable.

“My father can afford it,” I say. Pushing aside my guilt, I reach out and give her hands a little squeeze. “So, if he wants to do this for you, then I say let him. We’ll drink all the champagne we can get our hands on, eat whatever lavish dinner they send our way, then lament about how we’ll need to lose five pounds just to fit into the dresses we find.”

I grin as I turn toward the fitting room, taking in the jeweled-toned hues of the dresses on the rack. They’re exactly the kind of gowns I would’ve chosen for myself.

Warmth unravels inside my chest. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all?

“Oh, and one more thing . . .” I say, with a glance over my shoulder. “I’m gonna need a couple of those chocolate-covered strawberries.”

I pop another strawberry in my mouth, staring at the wine-colored gown I chose.

“It really is gorgeous,” Barb says, admiring it.

“I just love the color.”

“Mm-hmm. It’s like a good merlot,” Barb says, tilting her head as she stares at it.

“Well, now that we’re done with me, it’s your turn. Are you ready to try some on?” I ask, eyeing her closely.

She bites her lower lip, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. “I’ve been ready. There’s actually a couple of dresses I’ve been eyeing since I got here.”

“Well, then what are we waiting for?” I ask, motioning for her to lead the way. “Time to start picking.”

---