I recognize her in an instant.
Tinsley. Perry’s younger sister. We spoke briefly at the engagement party but that was it. I was pulled in about twenty different directions that night, and I wish I could’ve spoken to her more. Just like Perry confessed he wished he’d spoken to my younger brother more as well.
Guess we’ll have the rest of our lives to establish both of those relationships.
The two women approach us as we rise to our feet, the both of them in dresses, making me glad Mother forced me to change into one. Caroline pulls me in for a stiff hug and an air kiss.
“You look lovely, dear. I swear you’re positively glowing,” she murmurs as she withdraws from me.
I’m about to respond when Tinsley pulls me in for an enthusiastic hug.
“Charlotte! I can’t wait to see your dress. And get to know you better. When my mom asked if I’d like to accompany her today, I couldn’t resist. Perry’s told me so much about you,” she gushes as she pulls away, her hands still on my shoulders.
“He has?” He actually talks about me to his family?
My skin grows warm. I hope he says nice things.
“Well.” Her expression turns contrite and she lets me go. “Not really. Winston’s mentioned a few things though.”
“Oh.” I hate the disappointment that fills me. I shouldn’t care what Perry says about me to his family, or to anyone else.
But I do.
“Where’s the dress?” Tinsley beams as she glances around the showroom, taking it all in. “This place is huge. And so many pretty things.”
“I’m about to try it on. They’re just prepping a dressing room for me.” I spot one of the employees coming out, and when her gaze catches mine, she waves. “I think it’s ready.”
“It is,” says the woman. “Are you ready, Miss Lancaster?”
I square my shoulders. “Sure.”
Mother steps forward. “I’ll come with you.”
“No.” I shake my head, ignoring the disappointment on her face. “I want it to be a surprise.”
“I love surprises,” Tinsley says, and I can tell she’s trying to ease the tension between my mother and me.
And I appreciate it.
I walk through the bridal showroom, taking in the décor. The large room is light and airy, low green velvet couches scattered throughout, gold light fixtures bathing the interior in a gentle glow. There are displays of bridal accessories everywhere. Shoes and bags—so many tiny white clutches—and jewelry.
It’s a lot. If I allowed myself, I could become caught up in the excitement as if I were an actual blushing bride.
I need to keep reminding myself I’m not.
Once I’m in the dressing room, it’s a process to get me in the gown. And by the time I’m being escorted back out into the showroom to show everyone waiting for me, my mother’s audible gasp is so loud it echoes throughout the building.
“My God, Charlotte! You’re absolutely stunning.” She rests her hand against her chest, as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing.
As I stop in front of the three-way mirror, I suck in a breath.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing either.
It’s a dramatic ballgown that’s off the shoulder, with a sweetheart neckline and corset style, constructed of white silk and lace with appliqued flowers. The skirt is huge and poufy. The train is long and trimmed with more appliqued flowers, and both the skirt and train sparkle when the light hits it.
It’s completely over the top. I look like an old-fashioned wedding cake topper, but I don’t care.
I feel like a queen.