From then on, my relationship with my dad wasn’t the same. Though he never admits it, I think it’s because I’m the kid who can’t give him what he expects. He’s old-fashioned, and sexist, if I dare to admit it. And I dare. It’s wrong, but that’s who he is, and his bullshit excuses about not wanting to keep the restaurant in the family sting, because I know deep down that he just doesn’t want me to have it. The disgraced daughter. The divorced daughter. The barren daughter.
“I can’t stand it, Sal. The family drama. The feeling that I’m the worst person in the world for seeing my dad for the hypocrite he is, for feeling bad each time I’m with my sister because she always finds a way to mention it.” My admissions, this whole conversation, is adding to my guilt tenfold. It’s dragging me down until I am certain my knees will buckle under the massive weight of it all.
Sally smiles. “You’re the dutiful daughter, sister, business manager. Always have been, at least at home. You’ve hidden behind all of it for too long.”
She’s right. Sally is always right. “I’ve been applying to jobs out of town. Hell, I’ve been applying to jobs out of state. If my dad won’t sell me the restaurant when I have capital and a secured loan, there is no reason for me to stay.” I love my family, of course. I’ll miss them. But I need a life, a real life.
“Yes!” My cousin fist-bumps a passerby, then returns her attention to me, leaving the man walking past with a confused look on his face. “I don’t want you to move, of course, but you deserve more. And since you got me started on your side of our family, let me just say that they take, and take, and take. The fact that you’ve finally admitted this is epic, Cami. Epic! They should embrace who you are.”
“Like your side of the family embraces you and your siblings.” If not for my mom, I would want to be on Sally’s side of the family. But I wouldn’t trade memories of my mom for anything.
Sally smiles. “My side embraces you, too. Especially my mom. She loves you like you’re her own.”
“Then why do I feel like such a failure?” I know the answer long before my cousin responds.
“You’ve been conditioned to feel that way. Your dad’s old-school. Beth is perfect in his eyes and your other siblings don’t have the time to stand up to him, or won’t. You’re the only one who does.”
“How’s that working out for me?” I laugh. Because I know I can’t be something I’m not. I also know I don’t blindly follow, even if it is my family.
Sally knows it, too, as we head down the street, looking into the windows with the pretty displays. “You’re doing great. You’ve been invited to a super-swanky wedding, and best yet, your ex hasn’t been. Ha! Pete will be so jealous.”
Pete Harper. Total asshat. If only I’d realized that before we eloped…hell, before he cheated on me. “His pompous mug was on Sports Illustrated. Nick was reading it at the urgent care. Just the sight of Pete turns my stomach. Still.”
“He’ll be jealous. You know he will, with this being the NHL wedding of the year and all.”
My cousin makes a valid point. “You’re right. He’s an opportunistic son of a—” I halt. “Bookstore!”
Bookstores are my squirrels. Especially the independent ones. “Let’s go in for a minute. Please.”
“Nope. Dress first, then books.” My cousin has her serious shopping face on.
I whimper as we take a hard pass on the quaint indie bookstore. “If we encounter another snobby boutique salesperson, I’ll need alcohol. I don’t care that it’s ten in the morning. One more is my breaking point. Hey! Maybe I can find the perfect dress online. It’s worth a try.”
Sally pauses in front of a cute store with garments of gold and silver in the window, and a chic marble backdrop playing the two colors off each other. “One more store.” Placing her palm on the door handle, Sally pleads with me. “Don’t be angry with me.”
Oh God. “What have you done?”
The bell chimes as we cross the threshold. A rainbow of high-end dresses and gowns beckon to me. I’m not a clothes gal, but this store is tempting. Even I can feel its pull, feel my credit card with a zero balance burning a hole in my wallet. I’ve already decided to splurge on this dress, seeing as a famous clothing designer is the bride and a millionaire sports star is the groom. The fact that Nick’s my date doesn’t hurt either.
Some of the pieces in this boutique look familiar. “Sally. Tell me this isn’t…”
She smiles. “What better place to buy your dress than at the bride’s very own boutique?”
Just when I want to bolt back through that jingly door we entered, a face I recognize from Page Six and YouTube smiles at us. “Good morning. How are you today?”
A bubbly blonde with curves, she is effervescent in a pale-yellow dress, wide smile, and a warm personality that would normally put people at ease. Yes, standing before me is the bride herself—Serena Ellis—beaming like a ray of pure sunshine. As for me, here I stand in a sea of racks covered with silk and satin, and probably some tulle. Absolutely mortified. Because I’m the one who googled what to wear to a black-tie wedding, wedding guest dos and don’ts, and so many more search phrases that I blush from embarrassment.
I feel like I should be holding a sign that states I DON’T BELONG. Both here, in this swanky boutique, and at Serena and Christian’s wedding. I’m just a Long Island girl with a big family, and a whole lot of baggage. I’m not fashion savvy in the least.
My heart beats at a frantic pace in my chest. I’m so far out of my element that somebody better grab a snorkel for me. I’m drowning in an ocean of expensive clothes, with high price tags and a designer that’s sophistication personified, glamorous, and picture-perfect.
If I don’t fit in here, how can I pull off this wedding-date thing with God only knows how many wealthy and influential guests?
I can’t fake this. Serena Ellis is going to see right through me. So will Nick. My favorite Dynasty episodes can’t help me now.
With no other choice, I will be myself. For better or worse, it’s who I am. Plastering a smile on my face, I say “Hi.”
Oh, yeah. This is off to a great start. Not.
Chapter 8
Camille
“Hi, I’m Sally. And this is my cousin Cami. She’s looking for the perfect dress to wear to a wedding.” My cousin nudges me forward, like I’m a Hunger Games tribute. Based upon the pure panic setting in, I might as well be.
I swallow hard and smile. “Hi. Nice to meet you.” Not the way I wanted to meet Serena, but I run with it.
“Cami!” Serena’s face lights up. “Would your full name be Camille Benetti, by chance?”
“Yes! It is. How did you know?” Sally elbows my arm.
Serena chuckles. “Nick. He mentioned he will be bringing you to my wedding. It’s wonderful to meet you.”
“You, too. Congratulations.” I smile, she smiles wider. This woman glows. Her happiness is contagious and soothes my nerves, even if by a small fraction. I’m still way out of my league. That hasn’t changed.
“I knew it! Nick mentioned you, Cami,” Sally whispers a tad too loud.
I glance at Serena, whose smile has widened, and I’m positive that she heard my cousin. Offering Serena an apologetic grin, I immediately change the topic. “My cousin Sally is a fan of your work. We both are.” The latter statement is an exaggeration. Sure, I’ve seen Serena’s designs. Who hasn’t? And her video. As a tall kid turned even taller woman, I’ve gone through the awkward stage. Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck there.
If I’m myself on dates and wear boots or booties with my favorite chunky heels, I tower over most guys. I’ve never cared enough to change that. I am who I am, height and all. Most guys can’t take a woman towering over them, especially one with my sass. Nick’s the exception. I can wear heels and he’s still taller than I am. But something tells me that even if that weren’t
the case, he wouldn’t mind. He’s different. Which reminds me why I’m here, in this store, ready to attend a black-tie sports-star wedding…because I want more time with Nick.
Still, Sally my showstopper cousin is more of a fashionista than I am. She tricked me, planned where we were heading this whole time, while me? I blindly followed. There goes my I’m not a follower rule. What other rules might I break before this wedding date is over?
“I’m a fan of yours, too.” Serena’s bright eyes study mine.
I tilt my head to the side, trying to hide my confusion at her statement. How is she a fan of mine? “I’m not famous by any means.”
“Nick speaks highly of you,” Serena says to clarify. “That’s all I need.”
Sally nudges my arm again. “Nick speaks highly of you. He told his friends about you.” Where is my cousin’s filter? Apparently, she’s lost it. The good news is that she hasn’t lost her mind, unless I have, too. Because that’s the very first thing that sprang to my mind.
Though the prospect sends my senses reeling, I try not to get my hopes up. Nick might tell his friends about everyone he dates for all I know. My cousin is giddy. Too giddy, and I desperately need Sally to find her filter, calm down, or both.
“Okay, Sal. You’ve worn Serena’s designs, you’ve fangirled over them, and she’s in front of you. Here’s your chance to ask her anything fashion related.” Stressing the last words, I nod encouragingly at my cousin.
The Jeopardy music should play in the background. Instead, a low classic rock blend is serenading us from hidden speakers. It works. Somehow the whole shop does. It’s upscale but not the least bit pretentious. Like Serena—the beautiful blonde standing beside us, waiting with bated breath.
What will my cousin ask? That’s the million-dollar question. “What else did Nick say about Cami?”
Seriously? Forget mortified. Multiply that a thousandfold and you have just a smidge of what I’m currently feeling. I should have asked the damned question myself. Mine would have been more along the lines of What colors are considered off-limits for wedding guests? Another topic I googled. Along with What styles are too sexy for a black-tie wedding? I found the answers to that one in an Elle’s “Wedding Guest Dos and Don’ts” online article from May 2018.
All this research for someone else’s wedding. Clearly, I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. Meanwhile, my cousin is blissfully unaware of the torture she’s putting me through. I always said my family would drive me crazy, though I never thought it would be my cousin who’d be steering the car, careening at one hundred miles per hour off a cliff. Forget Thelma and Louise. This is the Sally and Cami show, which would make Nick Brad Pitt. Somehow, Brad, as sexy as he is, doesn’t do justice to Nick.
It’s official. I’m on the crazy train, hoping my ticket is round trip. As I glance at Serena, I see her full lips upturned. She’s trying hard not to laugh at us, I’m certain of it.
“We shouldn’t have come.” I grab my cousin’s elbow and begin to back away. “Nice to meet you. I’ll see you soon. Come on, Sal.”
“Wait!” Serena’s tone causes me to stop short. She reaches for several garments and removes them from a rack of indigo dresses. One is a mermaid design, Sally’s favorite. She hands them to my cousin. “The fitting rooms are in the back, to the right. Why don’t you have some fun and try these on?”
“You had me at fitting rooms!” Sally heads to the back of the boutique. “Holy incredible, these fitting rooms have french doors, Cami! With curtains and gorgeous chandeliers.” My cousin’s singsong voice travels through the boutique, over the chic music.
I’m sorry. I mouth it to Serena, though she shakes off my sentiment with a shrug and leads me to a small seating area near the front windows.
“She’s excited for you. I have a best friend named Becca who resembles your cousin. She, like Sally, has a heart of gold, but can embarrass me at will and did when I was dating Chris.” Serena’s doing her best to make me feel comfortable.
I inhale a deep breath. “Thanks. I had no idea this was your shop when we walked in. I would never presume—”
“Presume to enter my store, which is open to the public, by the way.” Serena smiles again. It’s infectious.
“Shopping for the perfect dress to wear to the wedding of the year is best done while not under the busy fashion-designer bride’s watchful gaze. I read that article. On a blog that I’m sure was titled ‘How Not to be a Bad Wedding Guest.’ It appears I have already broken that cardinal rule.”
Serena and I laugh. “You have a sense of humor. I see why Nick likes you so much. He’s a funny guy.”
“He seems like a good guy.” I look to Serena for…what? Confirmation of what I already feel, deep down, if I allow myself to look hard enough. Timing aside, Nick’s been nothing but kind to me. Still, we’ve only known each other for a short time.
She nods. “Nick and Chris have been inseparable since college. I’ve seen what a good friend he is firsthand, and how generous.”
She studies me, as if she’s thinking of confiding something and sizing up my worth. Though I want to know all about Nick, I dare not prod. Instead, I wait. Trying to control my pulse, which has suddenly become erratic. Hoping I’m worthy. That’s a feeling exclusive to my time spent with my dad and my sister. I don’t like that it’s crept into a conversation about Nick.
“Oh my God, this is gorgeous!” Sally bounds from the fitting room and twirls in a mermaid indigo gown. She radiates confidence and sophistication.
“You are gorgeous, Sal.” I mean it. She is. Inside and out.
“I may buy this.” She peeks into the fitting room. “They’re all so beautiful. Be right back.”
My smile widens. “Thank you for making my cousin blissfully happy. Please charge my credit card, not hers. No matter how much Sally may protest. I’m buying her the dress of her dreams today.”
“You’ve got it.” Her deep dimples deepen even more as she asks, “Why Nick?”
She offers no explanation, and none is required. I can tell that Serena cares about Nick, and her tone is kind. She’s trying to protect her friend. I get it. I’d do the same for Sally.
“Nick surprised me.” I remember how we met, and what my first impression of him was. “I thought he was another hockey player blinded by fame and tempted by puck bunnies. I’ve known one of those, and it taught me a lot—especially that I must avoid men like that at all costs. Then, Nick blows me away by being a great guy who makes me laugh and who is more real than anyone I’ve ever dated. Is he an alpha? Of course, but he’s also sweet, and intelligent, and funny. Not your typical combination—at least not in my experience.”
Tilting her head to the side, Serena winks at me, her jade eyes bright as jewels. “You see the man behind the bravado. Most don’t see past the Dominator. He’s tough and is exceptional on the ice. What he does off the ice, what no one outside his inner circle knows, is part of what makes him so complex.”
“I’m intrigued.”
“He’s a staple at local youth centers. Even spends Christmas with kids with rough family lives. Makes sure they have wrapped gifts, signed swag from his teammates, and more. Makes sure each family has heat and food.”
“Wow.” My heart sinks at this revelation. Because it is heavy, it is serious, it is more kind than I ever expected Nick to be, and I expected a lot after our date. Also, because kids are special. I have a soft spot for them and volunteer myself. Having a special-needs nephew has opened my eyes to hardships kids endure, and I help when and where I can. The fact that Nick does, too, endears him more to me.
Sally saunters toward us. “Though I love this one, I’m obsessed with the first one.” She’s in another style, similar hue, and looks like she could rock a red carpet.
“Color me jealous. I want to look that amazing someday.” Especially on my wedding date with Nick.
> “Let’s find you something,” Serena whispers to me, as Sally struts like a runway model back into the fitting room.
Following Serena, I’m suddenly taken aback by how much I want to impress Nick, which isn’t like me at all. I don’t dress for anyone. Anyone but myself, that is. Now, suddenly, I am desperate to impress him. This man I hardly know. Except I feel like I do know him. In the short time since we met, we’ve gotten close. The texts have helped, as have his phone calls. He’s become a part of my life, without me recognizing it until now.
Nick has unwittingly kept me off-kilter, has upended my tight-knit life, my predictable life. Normally, this would cause me to freak out. I should be freaking out. I’m not, though. Instead I’m determined to keep things real. I refuse to get caught up in a wedding whirlwind. I’ll dress for me, because I want to look great. If it impresses Nick, then that’s the sumptuous icing on top of the wedding cake.
I’m still me. I’ll always be me. Even while trying on one dress after the other. It’s like Pretty Woman on steroids, without Richard Gere. Instead, Sally, Serena, and I bond over styles colors, and our mutual love of nail polish, and, above all else, we let our sass fly. I also learn a thing or two. Like wearing bold colors is allowed at weddings, especially this wedding.
Everything I try on is impeccable, sophisticated, and absolutely gorgeous. Just when I think I’ve found the dress, Serena and Sally make me try another, followed by another. Until I decide on the one. Sexy, classy, and true to my own aesthetic. It’s backless and has thin straps with a cowl neckline in a to-die-for merlot hue that matches one of my favorite lipsticks in my cosmetic arsenal. The same lipstick I’m wearing today.
The silk is opulent and caresses my skin. Much like Nick will. Because if this shopping excursion hardened my resolve for anything, it’s that I want a night with Nick, even if it ends up being just one night.
Ice Hard Page 9
