Page 19 of Brazen
Overreacting was my new normal, it seemed. I tilted my head. “Photographed?”
She directed me away from Charlie. “Every fashion magazine will want pictures of us. So designers offer clothes to be seen in.”
Isabel would have been a better choice for Charlie, but I cringed at the thought. I would never want to share him, but I said as we walked into a huge room full of clothes, “I’m starting to understand.”
Charlie popped his head in. “I promise to share more information with you.”
His mother waved him out with the "women only" line. I glanced around, and there were gowns and dresses, with some hung on hooks but tons just on hangers. Boxes of shoes were in a corner, and honestly, this was nicer than any store on Fifth Avenue.
“Hope, dear, type in your phone number in my phone so we can get you on the family calendar. Then you won’t have to depend on Charlie.”
So she knew her son. I did as she told me, and I typed her name. “Thanks, Mrs. Norouzi.”
“Call me Roxanne,” she said then left.
I sorted through some clothes, and the door opened. I glanced over to see who it was, and I shook my head. He’d been told no, but I wasn’t complaining. Instead, I said, “I like your mom, Charlie.”
He sat on a chair meant for trying on heels, though he seemed completely confident in himself. “See? Everything is going to be easy as pie.”
I grabbed a blue Sachin and Babi jewel-neck sleeveless dress and said, “Let’s not tempt fate there.”
I pointed him to the door. “Darling, what could go wrong?”
I met his gaze and wondered how he tempted fate so easily, but I said, “We’ll talk about that later.”
He left, and I quickly changed. I refused to be the reason a bride waited to get married or to do anything to spoil anything Roxanne Norouzi did. If I had a mom, I would have hoped she was as nice.
Chapter Eight
Hope
* * *
I gazed at the demure blue dress I’d chosen and finished pinning my red hair into a bun. The person staring back at me in the mirror felt like a different person entirely.
I forced myself to smile, though my body was tense. Even in grammar school, when other girls had friends and went to one another’s houses, I’d been alone with Grandpa.
Only after he was gone had I made my friends and not been entirely alone. However, family was much different from friendship, and I was adrift and unsure how to approach the situation.
I walked down the aisle, which had no bride and groom yet, and joined Charlie, who waved.
I mumbled "Hello" as I passed people who said it to me, but I was focused on the man in the tailored suit that made his muscular body somehow even hotter.
When I joined him, he placed his hand on my back and kissed my cheek.
I kissed his cheek in return. “There you are.” I then flicked his tie as I stood straight. “You changed too.”
We shuffled to our seats among the white folding chairs that faced the fresh flower wedding arch and the waiting minister. He said, “I saw you picked blue, so I wanted to match.”
Charlie introduced the couple seated next to us as Warren and Kerry.
I waved. “Nice to meet you both.”
Kerry wore Dolce and Gabbana, and her blond hair had little circles with flowers pinned in. “You too," she said. "We’re happy you’re actually an item and that gossip blog didn’t ruin your life.”
My eyes widened. They’d seen the blog where I was naked and in my locked hotel room on a third floor. My only covering was Charlie. My heart beat a mile a second, and I asked, “What?”
Kerry blinked. “You must have seen the photos of yourself.”
