Page 64 of The Senator: Raphael

The saleswoman greeting us is in her mid-thirties, her hair pinned back a tight brown bun and a high-collared dress that fits her perfectly running down to her lower mid-thighs. Her measured smile adds a bit of warmth to an otherwise way too uptight person.

“What’s the vibe of the wedding? Formal or more relaxed?” she asks.

“Relaxed,” I answer at the same time Lola says, “Formal.”

I turn toward her, and she arches her brows while sipping champagne. “What? You’re marrying a senator! I think your guests will expect black tie and all.” She shrugs.

This is the difficult part of this charade. We don’t even have guest list.

“We’re going for a less lavish ceremony,” I explain to the woman who just nods, her face unreadable. If she thinks it’s odd marrying Los Angeles’ most desirable bachelor in an intimate down-to-earth ceremony, she’s not giving away anything.

“Is it an indoor or outdoor ceremony?”

“Outdoor,” I say at the same time Lola says, “Indoor.”

I turn to her again and she raises a hand, sealing her lips. The saleswoman’s lips curve upward and it’s the most noticeable reaction since we stepped foot in here.

“It will be an outdoor wedding and we’ll have lavender, daisies, gerberas, and white roses in the centerpieces. Not exactly rustic, but a more casual feel,” I finally explain.

She nods again and I start to wonder if she has any feelings whatsoever or if she packed her heart away in a box before coming into work this morning. “Do you want something with lavender color in it?”

“Oh, no. I prefer white with lace, but not too sophisticated,” I answer in a rush.

The woman nods, again, then excuses herself and walks out of the room.

“You have no idea what you want, do you?” Lola smiles at me.

“Nope.”

“Are you sure you want to go through with this? You should be happy to plan your wedding…” Her voice trails off like she’s not sure what else to say.

I asked her to come with me because I thought it was sad to look for a wedding gown all alone, but the truth is that I dreamed about sharing this moment with my mom and sister. I imagined their squeals when I findThe One, but that will never happen. Until I stepped inside this place, it didn’t hit me how much I missed them.

When I was a bartender, the pain of missing my family was a dull ache in the background, but now that I’ve started to really live my life and not just survive it, I realize they’ll miss every important milestone and I’ll miss theirs.

“I am happy.” And in part it’s true. I’m getting something I didn’t know I could have and I’m grateful to Raphael for that.

“Are you sure? Because he’s sleeping with prostitutes, and if you want to call it off, you have every right to do so.” There’s bitterness in her voice.

I glance at her, seeing the hard edges of her expression. She’s very protective when it comes to men. She hates when women forgive everything in their men and I’m sure she thinks I’m overlooking his infidelity for the sake of this wedding.

“He’s not…” I murmur.

“I know you told me he has a good excuse. How convenient that he has a great explanation for being caught with an escort. A believable one, too.” Her words drip sarcasm.

I can’t even look her in the eye because the truth is that his excuse is so elaborate and straight out of a movie that no one in their right mind would believe him. But he seemed truthful. Last night when he lied to me, he seemed honest too.

The saleswoman chooses this moment to roll in a rack with about ten dresses. I stand up and browse the selection. They all have lace, there are a few shades of white, and they’re a wide variety of styles. Flowy gowns, fitted ones, silky with a layer of lace or puffy with layers of tulle, and they all have one thing in common: they’re gorgeous.

“This is just a start to narrow it down to meet your tastes. Then we’ll start from there to find you the perfect dress,” she explains with the same warm, composed smile.

I pick the one that catches my attention first. “I don’t know, I think I may have foundThe One,” I murmur, admiring the magnificent piece of art in my hands.

It’s love at first sight. It’s a simple silky dress with a deep V-cut in the front and the back almost completely uncovered. The silky part is sleeveless, but it’s the lace covering the entirety of the dress that caught my eye. It’s simple with a subtle pattern, and it covers the dress from neck to toe. It has long bell-shaped sleeves that let you see skin without being vulgar. Same in the back.

I’ve never felt a desire to wear something like I’m feeling about this dress right now. The saleswoman helps me to change into it, and when I look at myself in the mirror, tears spring from my eyes.

It’s perfect.

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