No Strings Attached

by Julie Moffett

  She couldn’t say it.

  I couldn’t say it either.

  Instead of a rose, that thing on her dress looked more like a large, exact scientific replica of a pink, female private part. Blossoming open.

  On her freaking wedding dress.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I dared a worried glance at Basia. Her face had drained of all color except now there was a faint green tinge. I thought she might faint or vomit. I had to say something to break the awfulness of the moment, but what?

  “Ah...uh...” I stuttered.

  Basia looked at me, clutching her hands to her naked chest. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”

  I had to do something. I was her best friend. The maid of honor. The responsibility was on me to save this situation. But what the heck did I know about wedding dresses?

  “Hey, no worries, Basia.” I cleared my throat, tried to sound confident. “We’ll just cut the vagina right off the dress and it will be perfect.”

  Holy cow. Had I just said vagina aloud?

  “I meant the rose.” I backtracked. “We’ll cut the rose off the dress and it will be perfect.”

  Oh. My. God.

  Basia burst into tears—again.

  That seemed to snap Amanda out of her horrified trance. She hung the dress on the hook and rushed over to Basia.

  “I am so sorry.” She patted Basia on the back, helping her to her feet. “Don’t you worry. We’re going to make this right.”

  Basia staggered to a chair, grabbed the bridal robe and sank into the chair. She snatched the champagne bottle off the table and took a swig without using a glass. Apparently after viewing that dress, only straight from the bottle would do. She took a few more swigs and burped. “I can’t believe this. I totally can’t believe this.”

  Amanda seemed genuinely concerned. “You ladies just sit here and relax. I’ve got to make a call and I’ll be right back.” She dashed out of the room.

  Basia took a minute before she seemed to get it together enough to speak to me. I was too afraid to open my mouth again.

  “Lexi, what are we going to do?”

  Like I would know. What a total freaking disaster. But she was waiting for an answer and I was the maid of honor.

  This time I chose my words carefully. “Amanda said they would make it right, so they’ll make it right. If not, we’ll find a new dress. This is a bridal dress store, right? There are lots of dresses out there. One of them has to be right for you.”

  “Lexi, wedding dresses have to be ordered months in advance. Custom-made dresses take even longer. I’m petite. I don’t fit the ones that are off-the-rack. I’ll never find another dress.”

  “Yes, you will,” I said firmly. “The right dress is out there, probably right here in the store. I’m sure of it. We’ll ask if we can buy one of the sample gowns that the brides try on. A few alterations, and boom, you’ve got the perfect dress.”

  Technically I had no idea what I was talking about since I knew exactly zip about wedding gowns, but I spoke with confidence on her behalf. I’d learned from her that sometimes confidence was half the battle. Besides, the odds were high there was a dress out there that would fit her. The unknown variable was whether or not she would love it. As that seemed to be an important—although subjective—criteria, I couldn’t calculate the odds with certainty.

  Basia drained the rest of the champagne from the bottle and set it on the coffee table. “I hope this isn’t a bad omen about the start of my marriage.” She looked at her ring and got all teary again.

  I had to put a stop to that before the waterworks started again. “Don’t be ridiculous, Basia. There are no such things as omens. Your wedding to Xavier is going to be perfect. This is just a small snafu with a dress.”

  “It’s not just a dress, Lexi. It’s the dress. The most important dress of my life.”

  “And we are going to deal. We’ve got this. It’s just a minor setback, that’s all.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “Oh, God. This is so stressful. Can you pour me another glass of champagne?”

  “Of course, I can.” I grabbed a new bottle and unwound the foil. “When Amanda comes back, we’ll find out what the options are for fixing the dress and then we can look for a backup one, just in case. We survived in a jungle for several days. We can survive the process of finding the perfect wedding dress for you, right?”

  At this point, I was actually missing the jungle, which wasn’t a good omen either, except I didn’t believe in omens.

  To Basia’s credit, she inhaled a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right, Lexi. I’m overreacting. Everything is going to be fine.”

  “Of course, it will be.” Relief swept through me. “That’s the spirit.”

  Feeling better, I pressed my thumb against the champagne cork. It popped out with the force of a speeding bullet. To my horror, it headed straight for Basia. Yelping, she ducked and fell onto the corner of the table. One of the tea lights toppled over and the oil and flames spilled onto the paper tablecloth.

  Whoosh!

  The entire table went up in flames as Basia staggered backward and narrowly avoided getting burned. In the small room, the sprinklers on the ceiling immediately went off. Water sprayed everywhere, drenching us and everything else in the room in a sudden cold shower.

  Basia shrieked. I stood frozen, clutching the champagne bottle and looking about in disbelief as water sprayed throughout the entire freaking room.

  Amanda dashed into the room and slid to a stop next to Basia. Right behind her were both FBI agents, storming the dressing room with their guns drawn. One of the agents tackled me, apparently with the intent of protecting me with his body. As we slammed to the ground, the slippery champagne bottle flew out of my hands and hit Amanda in the head. She spun once and collapsed.

  The second FBI agent tried to catch her with outstretched arms like a football wide receiver. He caught her, but the leap caused him to accidentally discharge his weapon. The huge 3-D mirror shattered in a spectacular display of exploding glass.

  “What the hell is going on here?” the agent on top of me roared. “We heard a shot.”

  I was squashed beneath him. Water dripped into my eyes and I couldn’t breathe.

  “I’m fine.” I wheezed for breath. “It wasn’t a shot. It was a champagne cork.”

  The second agent laid Amanda gently on the ground and was now beating out the fire with my bridesmaid’s dress. The agent pinning me to the floor finally slid off, still looking around for a perpetrator. He came to a stand, water dripping off his hair and gun.

  “Put the gun away,” I said, sitting up and rubbing my sore knee that had been slammed into the floor. Dang it, now it hurt again. “We’re fine.”

  “Fine?” He gave me an incredulous look. “You’re telling me all of this happened from a champagne cork?”

  “It went...astray.”

  “Astray?”

  “Are you going to repeat everything I say?”

  “Possibly.”

  I stood, pushing several wet strands of hair off my face and surveying the damage. The mirrors were shattered, the furniture soaked and the dresses ruined. The fire was out, but my bridesmaid dress was a goner. It still smoldered. The entire room was a complete loss.

  “Wow,” I said. “This is so not happening.”

  Amanda moaned and sat up, holding her head. Thank God for one miracle. At least I hadn’t killed the bridal assistant.

  Basia stood shivering from the cold water. She looked like a small, drowned rat staring in horror at the shattered mirror. “Seven years of bad luck. What. Just. Happened?”

  I ran over to her, slipping twice. Putting an arm around her, I glared at the FBI agents and pointed to the door of the dress
ing room.

  “Go away. We’re fine. This is a girl matter. We’ve got everything under control.”

  “This is control?” The agent shook his head, then helped Amanda up from the floor. “Are you okay, ma’am?”

  “I’m...not sure.” She wobbled a bit and looked around the room in a daze. The agent held her steady and pointed at the sprinkler on the ceiling.

  “Can you turn those things off?”

  She nodded and staggered from the dressing room. Realizing there was no immediate threat, the agents finally retrieved and holstered their guns, filing out after her. As the last agent was leaving, he stopped and stared at Basia’s dress still hanging on the hook, water dripping off it.

  “Hey, is that a vagina on that dress?” He pointed to the thing that was not a rose. “I’ve heard of weird fashion trends, but that’s really taking things to a whole new level.”

  Basia started wailing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “It’s all going to work out perfectly,” I said to Basia for the millionth time as we drove to Xavier and Elvis’s house. “I’m so sorry. I’m the worst maid of honor ever.”

  “It’s not your fault the cork got away from you, causing me to fall on the table and start the fire. And you certainly couldn’t have anticipated the bottle squirting from your hands and hitting Amanda in the head when the FBI agent tackled you.”

  Oh, God.

  “Well, at least the medics from the ambulance said she’d make a full recovery,” I said with fake cheerfulness.

  Yep, that was me—Susie Sunshine. Looking for the one bright spot in a sea of disaster.

  “The mirrors,” Basia whispered. “Three full-length mirrors. All shattered. If that doesn’t spell seven years of bad luck, I don’t know what does.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Superstitions contradict natural science. They are nothing more than folklore, scary stories with no grounding in the real order of the universe. The mirrors mean nothing, Basia. Seriously.”

  She remained silent. I groped for more reassurances, but all I could come up with was another apology. “I’m really sorry about your dress, too. I guess it’s ruined from the water.”

  “It’s was already ruined. That dress deserved to die. That rose was hideous.”

  “It wasn’t a rose.”

  “No, it wasn’t. It’s just so disappointing. It didn’t look at all like the picture online.”

  “False advertising for sure.”

  We fell silent and I searched for a more upbeat tempo to the conversation. “Well, the good news is that Amanda says there’s a good chance I can get another bridesmaid dress in my size delivered in a week or so. There will still be plenty of time before the wedding to do any alterations.

  “Yes, there’s that.” Unfortunately, she didn’t look cheered up in the slightest. “It’s my dress that’s the problem.”

  “I’m, ah, game for going back with you to try on different wedding dresses when you’re ready. Amanda said she had a good idea of what you liked based on your online viewing selections, so she’s going to place an order for a few of them that are already made and the dresses should be in next week. Yay. Right?”

  “Right.”

  I paused. “Who am I kidding? It’s a good thing that she still wants our business.”

  “I think she was too scared by the FBI agents to refuse us service.”

  I smiled a little at that. “I’m really sorry about what happened, Basia, but you’ve got this wedding thing down. You are going to find the perfect dress. You will be the most beautiful bride in history. The wedding is sure to be a day for all to remember. I mean that. This is just a little bump in the road. Something to remember and laugh about in our old age.” My voice was so over-the-top cheerful that I wanted to duct-tape my mouth shut.

  Jeez.

  “It’s okay, Lexi. You’re right. I’d never have remembered a perfect fitting. This one is for the record books for sure. By the way, how’s the planning for the bachelorette party on Saturday going?”

  “Fantastic.” I hoped I had sufficiently kept the panic out of my voice. “Totally awesome.”

  “Do you need any help?”

  “Absolutely not.” Biggest. Lie. Ever.

  Basia wound her engagement ring around her finger. “Can’t you give me a few small details?”

  “You already know where it is going to be and who is coming. That’s all the detail you get. You’ll just have to wait and see. I want this to be the perfect surprise.”

  “Thank you, Lexi.” She gave me a tremulous smile. “I know this is really out of your comfort zone, so I appreciate your efforts. I really do.”

  “It’s the least I can do for my very best girlfriend. I’m honored you trust me with such a big responsibility. I’ve got this, okay? You don’t need to spend a second more worrying about it. You’ve got enough other important details to focus on.”

  We pulled into the Zimmermans’ driveway. Basia left the car idling. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off at your apartment?” Basia asked.

  The FBI sedan pulled to the curb. One of the agents had been on the phone the entire trip to Basia’s place. I had no idea what they were reporting back to headquarters. Well, actually, I might have had an idea, but I didn’t want to know the details.

  “No.” I put my hand on the car door handle. “I need some fresh air to clear my head. I’ll be fine. Besides, if I want a ride I can hitch one with those guys.” I jerked my thumb at the FBI sedan.

  We got out and she gave me a hug. We were both still damp. “Love you, Lexi. Thanks for sticking with me.”

  I waited on the sidewalk until she walked to the front door. Xavier opened it almost instantly and ushered her in. He waved at me before they disappeared inside. When the door shut, I closed my eyes and thwunked my palm against my forehead.

  I was never going to have a wedding. Ever.

  I wasn’t even the bride and I couldn’t handle this kind of stress. It was a nightmare. Giant tears, roller-coaster emotions and vaginas on wedding dresses.

  Someone just shoot me.

  Of course, seeing as how someone had recently tried to do just that, I had to be careful what I wished for. But right now, it seemed like a sane alternative.

  I walked home, followed by my FBI tail. They asked me twice if I wanted a ride because I was limping, but I shook my head. I needed to unwind after the wedding dress fitting from hell.

  When I got home, the agents went through my apartment and declared it safe. I offered them my hair dryer so they could get dry, but they declined. After they left, I peeled off my clothes and pulled on a pair of dry sweatpants and a light blue T-shirt. I took a pain pill and checked my phone, discovering I had a text from Slash saying he’d be over soon.

  I pressed a button on my phone and called Elvis.

  “Hey, Elvis. It’s Lexi. How’s Basia doing?”

  “Oh, hi, Lexi. Basia is...oddly wet. She arrived and they disappeared into Xavier’s room a bit ago. I thought you were going to a bridal dress fitting, not swimming. What happened?”

  I gave him a quick rundown of the events.

  When I was finished he said, “Wow. I’m not sure what to say. Was there really an ambulance, fire truck and an insurance adjuster involved?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “That’s epic.”

  “Epic fail is more like it.” I sighed. “Look, would you just keep an eye on her and let me know how she’s holding up? I feel awful.”

  “Sounds to me like most of it was out of your control,” he said. “Accidents happen.”

  “True, but it’s a statistical anomaly that accidents seem to happen to me far more than anyone else I know.”

  “Nah. Anomalies are an integral part of statistics. You’re
just fitting in.”

  “And that is exactly why we are best friends.”

  He chuckled. “So, how’s the bachelorette party planning going?”

  “Probably about as good as your bachelor party planning. No, actually, it’s probably worse. A lot worse. After this bridal dress fiasco, the pressure is on me to perform.”

  “Understood. I’m in panic mode, as well. What have you done so far?”

  “Well, I found this store called Faylene’s Bachelorette Parties and Supplies. Supposedly they do it all. I’m looking into it.”

  “Sounds promising. We’re in a lot of trouble, aren’t we, Lexi?”

  “Oh heck, yes.”

  He paused and then spoke. “Well, good luck.”

  “You, too. Thanks, bud.”

  I hung up and slipped the phone back in my purse. I was in the kitchen making coffee when Slash came in, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on the back of my head.

  “Um...why is your hair wet?” he asked.

  I turned around in his arms, ready to spill what happened, but his eyes were twinkling with amusement.

  He already knew, the cad.

  I glared at him. “Who told you?”

  He chuckled. “When I pulled up in the parking lot the team was changing shifts, so I checked in to see what was going on. A shift change during the day is pretty unusual. I discovered the agents who had been watching you had to be relieved so they could change out of their wet and smoky clothes.”

  “Total accident.” I lifted my hands. “I swear.”

  “The fault of a champagne cork, or so I hear.”

  “Unfortunate aim. I should have used a towel.”

  “And the ambulance?”

  “Not my fault. If the overzealous FBI agent hadn’t tackled me while I was holding a slippery champagne bottle, the bridal assistant would have been fine. Thankfully, she only had a mild concussion when the bottle squirted out of my wet hands and onto her head. The medics said she’d make a full recovery. The room, the mirrors and the dresses, however, were a complete loss. Luckily for Basia—not me—the bridal assistant said we could come back and try on dresses again after the insurance adjuster and cleaners finished fixing up the place.”