“Oh my gosh,” she stage whispered, “wait until you see this dress.” When I reached the top of the stairs, she smiled. “You look better.”
“Did I look bad?”
“From earlier in the kitchen through the police thing, your coloring was…off. Now, you look…content.”
“I can’t explain what Van does.”
“Good, I’d be jealous if you gave me details.”
“No.” I giggled. “I don’t mean that. I mean that he soothes and calms me. He makes the world right as if it was thrown off its axis. He touches it and everything is suddenly right, or at least better than before.”
“Does he have a friend?”
“Lena, but I don’t think she’s your type.” As we entered the suite, I heard Margaret’s and Paula’s voices coming from the bedroom. “Shit,” I whispered. “I didn’t make the bed.”
Vicki laughed. “Margaret did that for you when we first walked in.”
“Do you want to know a secret?”
“You never make your bed. I’ve known you forever. That’s not a secret.”
Our soft laughs filled the air.
We both stilled as we reached the threshold to the bedroom. All eyes were on me, and mine were on the extraordinary dress lying on the bed. I wasn’t sure what I imagined Paula’s dress would be, but the beautiful shiny gown was not it. Going closer, I ran my fingertips over the rich, heavy material.
I looked to Paula. “Oh my God, this dress is gorgeous.” My gaze went to Margaret. “Why didn’t you want to wear this?”
“I imagined the long train like the one Maria had inSound of Music.”
“Julia, do not feel pressured. You can decide against it,” Paula said.
I lifted the satin dress from the bed and held it against me. The hem reached to my mid-calf, and the neckline curved, forming the top of a heart. “I’d love to try it on.”
Although I’d showered and washed my hair this morning, I went into the bathroom and washed my face. As I splashed the water, I met my own gaze in the reflection. The woman staring back at me was scared.
I could see it.
Hell, I felt it within each and every cell in my body.
Like tiny alarms, the panic was sounding, warning me not to believe in happily ever after or that our wedding would even happen.
And yet the woman in my reflection wanted to believe—to still the alarm bells.
“May I help you?” Vicki asked as I lifted a towel to my face.
“Yes.”
Yes, I would believe.
Yes, our wedding would happen.
My smile returned as I looked into Vicki’s gaze. “Yes.”
Back in the bedroom, I stripped to my panties and stepped into the center of the dress, now arranged on the carpet. Vicki pulled the bodice up while Margaret began the task of buttoning the back. Taking a deep breath, I feared the bodice would be too tight. It wasn’t. It was the stiff boning sewn into the material that I felt. That feature caused me to stand straighter and my breasts to push forward against the sweetheart neckline.
“Donovan is going to hate these buttons,” Margaret joked.
“Now we know the real reason you didn’t want to wear the dress,” I said.