Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Yes, of course.” I laughed through my tears at how absurd it was to cry over a freaking dress.
Pia pulled the screen back in place so I could wriggle out of my jeans and sweater and put on the strapless bra I’d brought.
“Is this the one you’re going to be wearing on the day?” Pia asked.
Huh. I should have thought of that. “No… Can I bring the actual one to the final fitting?”
“Yeah, it should be no problem,” she assured me. She took the dress off the form and helped me into it. Holli had to come around and help, and then, my mom did, too. Between four pairs of hands—because Deja got in on the frantic dressing, too—I somehow ended up buttoned into the most gorgeous gown I would ever wear.
Pia turned me toward a trifold mirror in the corner, and helped me step onto a short platform. It was a little tricky. Oh god. The steps in the Terrace Room.
That fear fled once everyone stood back and I saw myself. I’d tried to fool myself every step of the way that I hadn’t really succumbed to wedding culture. I wasn’t taking Neil’s name, I wasn’t wearing white, no one was walking me down the aisle. That was surely radical enough, right? But it had been getting harder to convince myself that I wasn’t into tradition. Seeing myself in the dress, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. I was thrilled as hell that I was going to be a bride.
But I didn’t regret deviating from the traditional color choice, even when Mom said, “I just don’t understand what’s wrong with white.”
“White buys into a purity culture myth that I’d rather not perpetuate,” I said, tilting my head and carefully smoothing my hand over the incredible beadwork on the bodice. “And it washes me out.”
“How does a wedding dress perpetuate anything?” Mom grumbled.
“Your daughter is going to have her pictures in a lot of society pages,” Pia said, frowning and tucking something at the back of the dress. “I need some pins.”
“Society pages?” Mom’s brow furrowed. “Your grandma put an engagement announcement in the Mining Gazette, did you want a copy to use in New York?”
“That’s not what she means, Ms. Scaife.” Deja grabbed a copy of Vanity Fair from atop a low shelf near Pia’s drawing desk. She flipped it open to show her an example. “People in New York society are pretty gossipy. So, stuff like a billionaire’s wedding gets reported on.”
“Emma’s wedding was,” I told her, not that it made the idea any better.
“Really?” Mom made a “huh” face. “I didn’t realize Neil was famous enough that anyone would be interested.”
“He’s not a household name, but people who follow business, publishing, that kind of thing, know who he is. And his ex-wife was really involved in a lot of high profile stuff in the city.” It made me a little sick to my stomach to use the word “ex-wife” while I was standing there in my wedding dress.
Pia knelt at my feet, sticking pins in the hem, and I was looking down at her when Holli said, “And, with that book coming out, people will definitely be interested.”
It’s good that bionic laser eyes aren’t a thing yet. Because I would have fucking incinerated her.
“What book?” Mom asked.
I hoped it wasn’t the weight of the dress that was making the room spin, because that would be inconvenient on the day. “Um, I’ll tell you about it in the car.”
When Pia was done with a few minor tweaks, she helped me out of the dress. I was reluctant to take it off; I wanted my wedding to be today.
Holli snuck behind the screen while I was getting dressed. I heard Deja and my mom talking somewhere else in the studio. Holli’s eyes were more huge than usual. “I. Am. So. Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I lied. I didn’t know what I was going to do now. I couldn’t out Neil to my mom, and I wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to know about the book, anyway. I’d just have to do what I could to isolate the damage.
“No, seriously, I feel like such a piece of shit friend, right now.” She stopped herself. “Sorry. I was making that all about me.”
I waved her off. “I’ll just give her a Cliff’s Notes version and tell her to forget about it. She won’t say anything to him.”
Still, my stomach was pitching when we got into the car.
“Thank you, Tony,” Mom said as she slipped into her seat. When he closed the door, she turned to me. “So, what’s this about a book?” Her eyes glittered with excitement. “Are you going to write another one?”
“Uh, no. It’s this other book.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “It’s this really, really shitty thing someone is doing to Neil. One of his exes is writing a book and included some personal details about Neil that are really sensitive.”