Page 31 of Insta-Hubby
The bellsover the door of the boutique chime as I enter the shop, letting the warm, early-spring air in with me.
But inside, it’s spring time too, with fresh roses and daisies and peonies, and orchids, and every other kind of flower you’d want, at every price point, and in every color.
“Nowthatis a show-stopper,” Maggie says, tapping the toe of her black stiletto on the shiny white marble tile.
“You like?” I say, spinning around in my little white dress.
“Like? No, Anna. Like is not the word.”
This dress is simple. It doesn’t have a low-cut back, or a lot of bling, and it’s not a gown like I was used to wearing before.
I hurry over to the counter, where I have my appointment book open and ready for the day.
“We have a really nice girl coming in first,” Maggie says, coming over and resting her elbows on the counter across from me. “I have a few looks pulled for her. She actually wants something in black lace for her ceremony and reception.”
“Goth?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “That’s actually pretty refreshing.”
“She’s actually not,” Maggie says, “just wants something a little bit different.”
As I’m flipping through my appointment book, I’m astounded that Maggie and I have been able to get so much business so quickly.
We started our own dress shop. There was nothing wrong with the other shop - not at all - even though the big boss was a little bit pushy and domineering at times. Still, I liked it. I actually loved it there. But now, this shop is all mine and Maggie’s. It’s not like a funhouse in here anymore. I don't have mirrors attached to every single surface. We have a few mirrors in the dressing rooms, but I want the brides tofeelthe dresses after they’ve found something they’re satisfied with. I want them to find the perfect dress, and then focus on their perfect day without having to check themselves over and over to make sure they’re perfect.
They’re already perfect.
While I’m flipping through my appointment book, I hear the chimes over the door again.
I look up to see Liam, as devastatingly handsome as the day he nearly passed right by me on the sidewalk.
On the day that wasn’tsupposedto bethe happiest day of my life.
Well, turns out that it was. So far.
“Internet sensation Liam Harmon decided to shut down his blog today,” he says, reading from the top fold of a copy of the New York Post, “to focus on more important things. When asked what spurred his decision, the thirty-two-year-old heir to the Harmon Media empire said simply that he didn’t want attention from so many people anymore. He said he found a girl he wants to focus all his attention on. His father, Nathaniel Harmon, who started Harmon Media Group in the late 1970s, also announced today that his oldest son Liam will be taking over as President of the company, effective next month. Shortly after the announcement, stock prices hit an all-time high.”
He looks up at me from the paper and flashes me a smile that makes my damn heart soar.
And I look down at my own copy of the paper, already out on the counter next to my appointment book.
“In a move that shocked Wall Street investors, Liam elected to use the stock dividends from his sudden windfall as fiscal-year-end bonuses for the entire staff, company-wide.”
“Damn,” Maggie says under her breath, looking down at her perfectly-manicured fingernails.
“I didn’t want to read that last part out loud,” Liam says, leaning against the counter next to Maggie. “I didn’t want to come off like I was bragging.”
“Bragging?” I say, tipping my chin down at him and raising an eyebrow. “Remember when I first met you and you said you sometimes get confused for a cartoon prince? Or how you orchestrated a crowd of women literally running after you through the streets of Manhattan?”
“Was I bragging when I did that,” he says, putting his elbow on the counter, “or was I just taking an opportunity to put myself in the best light?”
“Whichever one it is, I guess you won’t be doing much of that stuff anymore, huh?” Maggie says. “All your sites shut down yet?”
“Well, you know you can neverreallydelete anything from the internet. But yeah, I’m not going to be putting out any new content.”
“That’s a shame,” I say, “because I actually just started following you. I was looking at your pictures last night.”
“With me lying in bed next to you? Don’t you think that’s a little weird?”
“Weirder than posting your butt for the whole world to see?” I laugh.
