by Brooke Moss
I spent the night before the dress fitting choosing my outfit carefully. I settled on a black-and-white plaid button-down shirt that would be easier to slip in and out of in the fitting room, and a full red skirt that matched the oversized tomato-red birdcage bow I pinned on top of my platinum waves. To top off my look, I put on a wide patent-leather belt and black kitten heels. Compared to my usual clothes, I looked demure.
The boutique Alicia picked was among the most posh in the wealthy area of Bellevue. It was known for carrying wedding gowns by some of the most sought-after dress designers and carried couture gowns worth tens of thousands of dollars. As I scurried from the bus stop to the boutique door, late again, I checked my bank account balance on my BlackBerry. I needed to have enough to, at the very least, put money down on whatever dress I would be purchasing. After that, it would be up to me to ask Lizzie for some extra hours in the salon and hock most of my belongings, in order to pay it off. Oh, well…I didn’t need to pay the electric bill before May, right?
Nodding to the salesgirls standing at the register, I walked past the showroom to an immaculately decorated room lined with mirrors where Alicia and her bridesmaids sat on a silk couch. Each of the girls had a glass of champagne and a sourpuss expression.
“Hello, Violet.” Alicia stood and kissed the air on either side of my cheeks. “I was afraid you weren’t going to make it.”
“Sorry,” I said, peeling off my coat. “The buses are running a bit late today.” I approached the silk couch and noticed that Alicia and four of her bridesmaids were all dressed completely in taupe. Did they call each other to coordinate? I smoothed down my red skirt. So much for blending in.
Kate leaned forward to look at me and took a long pull of her champagne. “There’s a red net on your head.”
This one was observant. “Yes.”
She scowled. “No, I mean, you’re wearing a hat with a net on your head?”
I nodded proudly. “It’s vintage. I bought it at a flea market downtown.”
“How very…Seattle of you.” Kate’s surgically reduced nose wrinkled. “You’re so funky.”
I planted my butt down next to Shawn, whose braids were woven into a bun on the back of her head. “Thanks…I think.”
As soon as we were seated, Alicia and a gray-haired woman stood before us, causing the girls to fall into a hushed silence. I watched as Alicia raised her glass to the rep and announced, “Girls, this is Juanita. She is the best of the best. A seamstress extraordinaire.” The bridesmaids clapped excitedly, and Alicia’s eyes danced. “It usually takes brides months before they are able to get in with Juanita, but she was willing to squeeze us in. I am beyond thrilled. She is an absolute genius.”
Again, they applauded, and I clambered to join in, offering a few half-hearted claps after the others had already stopped. I leaned over to Shawn and whispered, “Did Juanita design Alicia’s wedding dress?”
She shook her head the tiniest bit, so as not to be spotted being inattentive. “No.” Her voice was so quiet I had to lean closer to hear. “Alicia’s dress is being made in France. But Juanita apparently fit her for it and will be doing the final touches once it arrives.”
“Ahhh.” I straightened back up.
“Juanita is going to see which of the dresses looks best on each of you. Then she will take your measurements and work her magic.” Alicia announced this as if Juanita had cured cancer.
“And,Violet.” She pointed a tiny finger at me. “We’ve got the perfect black dress for you to wear. The one in the picture I showed you?”
I smiled tensely. “Thanks.”
As if they were summoned by ESP, a line of four clerks bustled into the room, holding up every possible version of a deep-red bridesmaid dress one could imagine. There were scoop necks, backless, sleeved, sleeveless, sequined, plain, floor-length, tea-length, full skirts, fitted skirts, and more. They quickly guided the bridesmaids off into dressing rooms, so I settled back on the couch and poured myself a glass of champagne. I watched as Alicia stood primping in front of one of the mirrors.
“So when do we get to see your gown? I’ve heard so much about it,” I said.
“Not for a while yet. It’s still overseas. And it is a sight, let me tell you.” She whirled around to face me, her bony body moving with the grace of a swan. Grace I’d not been blessed with. “I’ve had a team of eight women working on it since four days after Christmas. It’s a mixture of three couture dresses that were melded into one extraordinary gown. It is absolutely breathtaking.”
Alicia sounded like a game show host, revealing what was behind door number one.
“Three different dresses?” I raised my eyebrows. “Wow, I can’t wait to see it. What style is it?”
Her eyes lit up. This was obviously her favorite topic to discuss. “Well, it could be considered a mermaid dress, except that the bustles are raised slightly. And then they pull back to reveal the most exquisite antique lace underneath.” She used her tiny hands to imitate the fluffiness of the fabric. “And the top is fitted, sort of like a corset, but with a very low dipped ‘v’ on the chest and tiny cap sleeves of the same antique lace as the bottom. Then they’ve sewn in the most incredible fabric roses amongst all the ruffles of satin. It’s amazing. I’m almost certain I’ll get my picture in Puget Sound Bride with this gown.”
I feigned amazement and took a big gulp from my glass. Just as the silence between Alicia and me stretched toward becoming awkward, the bridesmaids came parading out of their dressing rooms wearing their red gowns. Rose wore a light sheath of a gown with a low back and plunging neckline; Kate’s was a floor-length taffeta number with bustles; Marissa was grinning in a dress that bore intricate beading on the front that rivaled her giant teeth in the sparkle department; Rose strutted like she were walking a runway in Milan; and Shawn’s skin positively glowed in her strapless wrap gown.
Alicia walked down the line of girls, surveying their presentation, while Juanita furiously took notes on her pad of paper. After examining each of the bridesmaids thoroughly, Juanita waved a hand and barked, “Be gone! All of you!”
The row of now-deflated women skulked back to the dressing rooms, and Alicia turned to me with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I picked a color I thought would work for everyone.”
“I thought that they looked great.” I craned my neck to see the girls as they left the room, trying to see what flaws Alicia was referring to. A tiny seed of doubt sprouted in my mind as I saw Juanita’s and Alicia’s heads together, hissing back and forth about how the bridesmaids had all looked atrocious. Alicia’s face was pinched, and she was waving her arms wildly as they spoke, and I was dying to hear what they were saying.
She ignored me and focused on the seamstress, who was clicking her tongue at her notes. “What did you think, Juanita?”
“Jes, zee brunette needs to drop a few pounds, if it iz okay to zay zo.” Juanita spoke in an accent I couldn’t place. Certainly not Spanish, as her name would’ve suggested.
“Of course you can say so,” Alicia confirmed. “I’ve been telling her that for weeks.”
“And zee blonde should consider zeeing a dermatologist, if you azk me. Zee ozzer two would be fine, but zey look like absolute hell in zat color. You’ll want to ztick them in the back of the pictures and dim zee lights,” Juanita announced with a scowl.
I pretended to be completely captivated by the pattern etched on my glass, and my gut churned. If this was how Alicia treated her thin, perfect friends, then what was she going to say to me? Or behind my back when I’d left? Good grief, could the bridesmaids hear what they were saying? I looked longingly at the glass doors leading to the street and wished that the building would catch on fire so we would have to evacuate.
Alicia just rolled her eyes and flopped down on the couch next to me. “These girls think this is a joke. Good Lord, I caught Rose eating scrambled eggs the other day, and we’re not talking scrambled egg whites. We’re talking about the
whole egg.”
I gulped. Alicia was a wedding Nazi. Dread set in as my turn in the hot seat approached. I listened to her rattle off the diet plan she’d set up for her bridesmaids shortly after asking them to be in the wedding and began to daydream about falling dreadfully ill on May fifteenth.
A few minutes later, the girls came shuffling back into the room wearing a new variety of dresses. I noticed that Kate was now holding her middle in as tightly as she could, causing her neck to vibrate, and Marissa’s giant white teeth were now hidden behind her trembling lips.
Alicia walked along the line of women, plucking at invisible lint and tugging on hemlines. “What do you think? We could take the skirt off this one and attach it to the top of this one? And is this a good length for everyone?”
Juanita began whipping her tape measure around violently. “Jes. I think we will want to hide the calvz on zis one. Zey look like jarz of mayonnaise.”
Alicia nodded in agreement.
I flinched and crossed my ankles underneath the couch. Note to self: buy some Spanx before the wedding.
One by one, all of their faces dropped as their flaws were scrutinized, then catalogued on Juanita’s pad. They were each measured carefully, not one inch of their bodies left untouched by the yellow tape. Then they were ordered back to the dressing rooms to get into their own clothes. Sure that I saw Shawn swipe at her eyes quickly as she left the mirrored room, I felt strangely sympathetic toward the bridesmaids as they all stumbled away, their egos officially knocked down a few pegs.
“I am going to find some ozzer samples,” Juanita said, shaking her head as she stomped out to the showroom. She stopped after a few feet and waved a hand at Alicia. “Come!”
Alicia jumped up and ran behind her like a faithful puppy.
“Holy shit…” I sighed under my breath before draining my glass. This was going to be painful. Right as I reached for a refill, a puffy-eyed Shawn emerged from the dressing rooms and grabbed the champagne bottle.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a hushed voice, emptying the champagne into her glass. “I need this. Badly.”
I shook my head. “Agreed.”
Shawn threw her head back and drank most of the champagne in one gulp, then flopped down next to me.
“You all right?” I asked.
She stared down at the floor in a daze. “I’m about to spend about a thousand dollars on a dress I will never wear again.”
I nodded. “I think I’ll have to wear my dress to work a few times…maybe while I am cleaning my apartment, too. Hell, I might wear it every day for a year.”
She laughed quietly, then looked over her shoulder carefully. “I might try to resell mine.”
“Ooh, that’s a good idea.” I smiled at her. “My mother would kill me, though. She would say it’s tacky to resell it. She has a closet of dresses she’s only worn once.”
“Does she shop a lot or something?” Shawn took another sip of champagne, and hiccupped.
I almost pointed out that she might want to slow down, then remembered that she was a model. This and a cigarette would probably be her lunch. Instead, I just nodded enthusiastically.
“I’ll bet your dad didn’t appreciate that. My dad used to hate my stepmother’s shopping obsession,” she said.
“I didn’t have a dad growing up.” I folded my arms across my chest, the early morning wine making me more forthcoming than usual. Before too long I was going to share the story of how badly I wanted a kitten as a child. “Well, I had a few stepfathers, but never a dad, you know?”
Shawn nodded. “It was the opposite for me. Lots of stepmothers, but no real mom.”
I sighed happily. “Then you understand why I loved Gabe’s parents when I was a kid. I still do. They’re like my surrogate family.”
“It would have been nice to find a surrogate family when I was little,” she mused.
I looked down. “I don’t know why I told you all of that.”
“Because it’s ten a.m., and you’ve already had a glass of champagne. And because you think you have to explain yourself to me.”
“So true. I don’t want all of you girls to think I am just hanging around trying to steal Gabe away from Alicia. I’m not. I’m just…part of the Parker family. I know that’s hard for her to understand.”
One of Shawn’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t be too sympathetic, Violet. Alicia’s not as fragile as she pretends to be.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She took another long drag. “I mean…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Alicia knows exactly where you stand with Gabriel’s family. She knows you’re a part of them, and she’s going to change things.”
Worry churned inside of me. “Why would she do that?”
“Because you take the focus off of her. Gabriel, Nora, Gabriel’s sisters, everyone. They’re drawn to you, and they’ve accepted you, and she is jealous.”
“Of me?” I didn’t get it. She had no reason to envy me. She had Gabe completely wrapped around her finger.
Shawn shrugged. “Because of how Gabe feels about you.”
“She’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s marrying into this incredible family, and she’s got him.” My voice broke at the end of my sentence.
Shawn looked at me closely. “Alicia Long doesn’t compete with anyone. Not other models. Not other hostesses at her job. Not other women, including relatives or best friends. She’s got her eye on the prize, and she’ll stop at nothing to get it.”
I furrowed my brow. “Why did you say her name that way?”
Shawn looked at her glass thoughtfully. “If you look far enough into Alicia’s past, you’ll figure it out.”
Good Lord, I was walking around in a living, breathing episode of Dallas.
“What’s the prize?” I squeaked.
She shivered and glanced at her watch. “The prize is Gabriel. And we’d better get this fitting wrapped up soon. I’ve got a bus to catch.”
I gaped at her. “What did you say?”
“I missed my bus coming here, so I had to catch a cab.” She patted her hair to make sure it was still in place. “I can’t afford another cab home.”
I gasped. “I thought you hated bus people.”
“Shhhhh.” Shawn looked around carefully. “My car broke down three months ago, and I haven’t had the money to fix it. I can’t afford to park it anywhere in this city, anyway.”
“You’re a closet bus rider?” I whispered.
Shawn nodded. “It makes sense here in the city.”
“I hate Gabe’s giant car,” I grumbled. “Talk about excess.”
“Well, he’s got to have a nice car to drive Alicia around, you know. She likes to travel in style.” Shawn winked at me.
“Well, if she’s so anti public transportation, why doesn’t her rich daddy buy her something to scoot around in? Does she love Gabe at all? Be honest.” My chest tightened.
Shawn nodded. “Yeah, I think she does. But…and if you tell anybody I told you this, I’ll deny it…I think when she saw Gabe, she saw an opportunity.”
“An opportunity?”
“Yeah. Think about it. Hot, young ad exec. One sister is an architect. The other sister and her husband own a successful CPA firm. Dad is a college professor. Mom is a lawyer.” She watched as the wheels in my mind started to turn. “Look at the house they live in. Look at Gabriel’s car and his apartment. She saw an opportunity, and she took it.”
“That little gold digger—”
Shawn sighed sadly. “I used to love my friend. Really, I did. But…over the past few months, I’ve seen her in a different light.”
Anger bubbled in my gut like a cauldron. “Why are you still in the wedding?”
She chuckled bitterly. “Because I’ve already forked out three hundred dollars for her bachelorette party and another seventy-five for her bridal suite. I’m going to get through this wedding, and then I will stay as far away from her as possible.”
I opened my mouth to
release an arsenal of swear words to describe my feelings on Alicia but heard the shuffle of Juanita and the lovely bride-to-be returning.
Juanita looked at me over the top of her half-glasses. “Iz zis the one who iz ztanding wiz ze men?”
Alicia glanced her shoulder at me. “Yes. Violet is the one we need fitted for the black dress I picked out.”
“What kind of woman standz on ze manz zide?” Juanita spat.
Alicia’s white cheeks pinked prettily. “She’s my fiancé’s oldest friend. It’s a little…unorthodox. But we’ll make it work.”
I stood and turned so that Juanita could measure my arm span. I wanted to Chuck Norris roundhouse kick Alicia in the face but couldn’t make a scene. Shawn had planted a pumpkin-sized seed of doubt in my mind, and it was growing at a rapid rate. Alicia didn’t deserve Gabe. She didn’t deserve any of the Parkers.
Juanita barked at me from below my armpit, where she was measuring my bustline. “What size are you?”
“A…size eight.” Irritated, I glanced down at her and nodded briskly.
She glanced at Alicia over the lenses of her half-glasses and they exchanged a ‘yeah, right,’ look.
Juanita grunted. “Iz not your size.”
Alicia touched my arm and batted her eyes at me sweetly. “Listen, Violet, it’s important to tell the truth. We don’t want to have to take it out later on. It’s an awful hassle to add fabric.”
I hated her. I wanted to hurtle myself over Juanita’s head, land on Alicia’s skeletal frame, and scratch her eyes out all over the white carpet.
“I said what size are you?” Juanita’s voice echoed, and Shawn looked down at her glass.
Flabbergasted, I hissed down at her. “Twelve, all right?”
I noticed that Alicia’s expression took on a wicked quality as the other girls began emerging from the dressing rooms. Rose looked like she was planning to escape into the plush bathrooms in a few minutes to purge, Kate looked just plain pissed off as she furiously punched buttons on her phone, and Marissa glowered at Juanita as if she were wielding a knife instead of a tape measure.
