She hadn’t given anything to me. She’d sold my mother on the importance of overpriced shampoo, conditioner, spray treatment, heat treatment. The list went on and on.
“I’ve been out of town...”
At the sound of the doorknob, my gaze moved from our reflection to the bathroom door. Hoping for Vicki, I was met with my mother’s feigned smile. Her attention ultimately landed on the work Georgette had accomplished.
“She’s so pale. Tell me that you brought makeup,” Mother said.
Of course, she wasn’t talking to me.
“Yes, once I get her hair styled, the makeup is next.”
I gritted my teeth as the two women discussed my total disregard for hair care and the cinematic benefits of false eyelashes. It was when my mother mentioned that a photographer was about to enter the bathroom to record these moments for posterity that I lost what little reserve of decorum I’d managed to hold.
Pushing up from the bench, I shook my head, batting Georgette’s hand away. “This is over.”
Mom reached for my arm. “Julia, I need to speak to you about something.” Her gaze met Georgette’s. “In private.”
Before I could say a word, Georgette slipped from the bathroom. Once the door closed, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I need to speak to Van.”
“Skylar is outside. I realize this is a tricky situation. Marlin has spoken to Donovan and if you decide to marry Skylar—”
My pulse quickly sped up as my voice echoed off the tile of the bathroom. “Marlin told Donovan I wanted to marry Skylar?”
Mother’s lips pursed as she shushed me.
Pushing my way past her, I opened the bathroom door. Staring my direction was a woman with a camera, her lens pointed at the wedding dress now lain out in a picturesque way upon the bed, and a man holding a large white screen.
“Ms. McGrath.” The woman offered me her hand. “I’m Cindy, your photographer.”
Taking her hand, I forced a smile. “Hi, Cindy. Please leave. This wedding is cancelled.” I tilted my head toward my mother. “Talk to her about your compensation.”
“Julia.”
My mother’s voice was lost as I bolted beyond my bedroom door, closing it behind me. At the end of the hallway was my first fiancé. “Go away, Skylar. This is a shit show and I’m leaving.”
He offered me his hand. “Come on. I have my car parked behind your parents’ garages.”
His words stopped me in my tracks. “You’re offering to help me?”
He took a step closer. “Our families are fucked. I can’t figure out what’s happening, but from what I’ve been able to gather, I’m supposed to step in at the last minute, a proverbial prince on a white horse.”
A smile came to my face. “You’ve never ridden a horse.”
“My dad and uncle have been overly secretive. Beth kept telling me that something big was planned.” He shrugged. “I think she is right.”
Great. I have Beth to thank for my escape.
When I didn’t take Skylar’s hand, he lowered his voice, opening the door to a nearby bedroom. “Hide in here.”
My decision took less than a second as I heard the voices from my bedroom grow louder as the door down the hallway began to open.
Once inside, Skylar spoke in a whisper. “I know you think you love Mr. Sherman.” My lips came together. “Jules, maybe you do. I’m the last person to comment on love. I’m my own shit show and I know it.”
“I love the man I’ve gotten to know.”
We both stilled, my heart racing, as voices passed by the door.
“You know, I’ve known Beth forever, but since she’s moved in” —he shrugged— “I’m getting to know her differently. If that makes sense.”