Page 27 of Along Came Amor
Roman’s business card was still in her bag. With shaking fingers, she pulled it out and typed his number into her phone. Then she tapped on the message bar.
After a brief hesitation, she wrote,Are you free?
And immediately deleted it.
What the hell was she doing? She didn’t need Roman. Who was he to her? Some man she’d met at a bar. A one-night stand.
Besides, she was the one who’d laid out the boundaries. It wasn’t fair to step over them not even forty-eight hours later, just because she was, what—feeling jealous? Sad? Sure, he was a good listener, great in bed, and looked at her with an intensity that she felt down to her very soul, but that didn’t mean she had any right to ask for more. And on top of that, she didn’twantmore. She was done with love, done with relationships, done with romance in general.
Even so, just knowing shecouldmessage him, if she wanted to, was enough to settle her.
She tucked his card and her phone back into her purse. Then she washed her hands, touched up her lip gloss, and left the bathroom.
The others were still looking at dresses when she returned. Ava joined them at the racks. As hard as it was reliving the memories of her own wedding, she wanted her cousin to have what she hadn’t. After everything Jasmine had been through, she deserved the perfect dress, the perfect wedding, the perfect everything. And it was Ava’s duty as maid of honor to make that happen.
A moment later, Jasmine came out wearing a strapless mermaid dress with a sparkly bodice and a textured skirt. Clipspinched the fabric in the back to make it fit her form. She looked great, but then, Jasmine always looked great. She had a perfect Hollywood body—not too tall, not too short, taut and lean, but curvy in the right places.
Ava, on the other hand, often felt like she was curvy in all thewrongplaces. She’d inherited her mom’s wide, shapely hips, but she didn’t have the butt to match. Buying pants was always an exercise in frustration, and she wore a lot of dresses to avoid doing it.
That was one thing she couldn’t fault Hector on. He’d adored her body, and even if the sex had been unsatisfying by the end, she’d at least known he’d found her attractive.
Unfortunately, there were times she wondered if that was all he’d loved about her.
Jasmine stepped onto a block in front of a trio of mirrors and turned this way and that, examining her reflection.
The dress looked good on her. But...
“It’s not right,” Jasmine said, and Ava let out a sigh of relief.
“No, it’s not the perfect dress for you,” she said.
Titi Lisa and Michelle agreed, and Jillian nodded without looking up from her phone.
Jasmine went to try on something else while Michelle filled Ava in on her latest client meetings in LA.
Titi Lisa had selected a ball gown with cap sleeves and a fitted bodice covered in floral lace. The skirt was enormous, the layers of taffeta and organza decked out with pearls and more lace. When Jasmine came out in it, tears gathered in Titi Lisa’s eyes.
“You look like a princess!” she gushed.
Jasmine shook fistfuls of the voluminous skirt. “I look like a vanilla cupcake, Mom.”
Titi Lisa turned to her other daughter. “Jilly, do you like it?”
Jillian growled something about the egos of patriarchal finance bros and kept her eyes glued to her laptop.
“What do you think, Ava?” Titi Lisa turned imploring eyes on Ava, who patted her arm.
“It’s very nice, but I’m not sure it’s exactly Jasmine’s style,” Ava said diplomatically.
As Jasmine passed Ava on her way out, she mouthed, “Very nice?”
Ava shrugged. “You wanted me to tell her it looks like a kaleidoscope of butterflies is attacking your tetas?”
Jasmine cackled all the way back to the fitting room. Minutes later, she stomped out with her hands on her hips, wearing Michelle’s pick—a slinky Chantilly lace number with a deep V framed by scalloped edges. Even with the sheer “illusion” panel in the center, the dress was quite revealing.
Jasmine glared at Michelle. “I look like I’m channeling J.Lo at the 2000 Grammy Awards.”
Michelle grinned. “Hey, that green Versace was iconic.”
