The Bridesmaid's Checklist: Laura's Wedding (BCL Book 1)

by K. T. Castle

  By K.T. Castle

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  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my family and friends, especially the boys in my life. Thank you for supporting and understanding me.

  Contents

  Dedication

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. I’d heard that saying more than once now. And it seemed that I was about to hear it once again.

  “Kassie! Kassie, wake up! I’m getting married,” a high-pitched voice squealed at me at 3:00 a.m.

  Who the hell is this? I had picked up the phone without even looking at the caller ID. Oh, Laura. Great. I found out that even if I was almost asleep, my brain preferred sarcasm.

  Laura was one of my best friends. I was one of those lucky people who managed to keep my childhood friends throughout my life. It had always been the five of us from elementary to high school: Marisol, Natalie, Denise, Laura, and me. The perfect number for the perfect friends.

  “Kassandra, are you listening? I’m engaged!” Laura screamed from the other side of the phone.

  “Yeah, wow,” I said. “Congratulations.”

  “I can’t believe you, Kassie. You should be more excited. You’ll get to be my bridesmaid!” The volume of her voice kept rising. “I’m the last of your friends to get married, and I chose to call you first. Show some real happiness!”

  “I’m happy for you, Laura.” I really didn’t know at the moment how I felt. I was trying to look around to see exactly where I was. “Believe me. It’s just…it’s three o’clock, and I was sleeping.”

  After looking at my surroundings, I remembered I was in my own house. Good, I’m home. I had a minor headache, probably from all the drinking the night before, and my body ached a bit. I looked beside me and found the reason for my hurt.

  Next to me I found the silhouette of a no doubt beautiful man, probably blond—I had a thing for blonds—and I was pretty sure he was built. I wouldn't settle for anything less. The memories of the few hours before my abrupt awakening came back at me:

  A bar. A blond. My home. Some sex...in that order.

  Wait, we had sex at the bar before coming home. Yeah, I was sure now.

  “I know it’s late, but I had to give you the good news.” Laura sounded as cheerful as I ever heard her. She really was excited.

  “And news it is.” She was the last of my best friends who was single; not so long ago we roamed all the bars in town together, looking for men to hook up with, and suddenly she was engaged. “Laura, I haven’t seen you for a month, and now you are telling me you’re getting married. I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.”

  “I wasn’t. Until recently,” she confessed. “Remember the trip I was supposed to take with my family? I met him there, and we’ve been inseparable since.”

  “For real?” I honestly couldn't believe it. “You met him a few weeks ago and now you decided to get married?” I really needed to wake up and have a little chat with my friend.

  I pulled the luxurious sheets off my bed so I could go somewhere else to continue my phone call. Unintentionally, I woke up the sleeping beauty beside me.

  He probably looked as confused as I’d been some moments ago. “Hey, pumpkin. Where are you going? Come back to bed,” he said in a sleepy voice. I assumed he’d used pumpkin because he couldn't remember my name. Just as I didn’t remember his.

  I hated pumpkins. “Hey, babe. Sorry, emergency call,” I said as I placed my cell phone over my chest to mutter a bit of the conversation with my beautiful stranger. “Do you mind giving me some privacy?” I used the cutest voice I could pull out.

  “Sure, pumpkin. Go ahead and take your call,” my nameless lover said as he settled himself back into my pillows. “I’ll just go back to sleep.”

  “You know what, I’m sorry, but I might have to step out to help a friend.” There was no simple way to kick someone out of your bed. I’ve learned with time that honesty was the best and more effective policy. “Do you mind going back home for the rest of the night? I’d really appreciate it.”

  “You mean I can’t stay the night?”

  “You’re so sweet.” I really meant, ‘No, hon. Suck it up,’ but I learned through experience that that particular phrase wasn’t really polite. “It was fun.”

  He stood and walked to the corner chair to pick up his clothes. I was impressed, both by the fact that he even remembered where he left his clothes and because he had a glorious ass. Even in the dark, his luscious body seemed to glow, appealing to me all over again. Maybe I should reconsider.

  “Kassie! Kassie! Kassandra, are you still there?” If I’d though Laura had screamed before, this was worse.

  I placed the phone back on my ear and said, “Oh, yeah, Laura. I’m sorry. I’ve got company. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  “You’re terrible, Kassandra. Can’t you spend a night on your own?” She was a bit dramatic. I never had a different man in my bed every night, let alone every weekend. She wasn’t any better. Laura had good taste in men, too. That made me wonder what kind of man had her so hurried to ‘settle down’.

  Certainly, I wasn’t settling with the one standing in my room. He was good-looking—great-looking, to be honest. But he wasn’t enough. His body, on the other hand, was good enough to eat. It was a shame to see it all hiding under those designer clothes.

  I ushered him to my front door and gave him a goodnight kiss. He was a good kisser. Really good.

  I practically melted by the door, and if it wasn’t for the phone in my hand, I might have just fallen to the floor and let him have his wicked way with me all over again.

  “See, pumpkin, we can still have some more fun together,” he tempestuously said. His lips delicately traced my neck as one of his hands followed the same trail until he reached the hem of my camisole. It was tempting—so very tempting. My latest conquest gave me a look that only meant business. He had the most beautiful baby-blue eyes I’ve ever seen, with an impish glimmer hard to resist. It matched his sexy grin.

  “We will, babe, if you remember my name.”

  His smile was dazzling, and I knew exactly what it meant: no fucking idea.

  “Can I at least get your digits?” he tried once more. It was really cute when men did that. And flattering, too. It meant he’d enjoyed himself and wanted more.

  “Sorry,” I said as I moved my head from side to side. “Have a nice life.”

  “Bitch.”

  Well, what could I say? He might have been right.

  After I closed my front door, I went back to my phone call. “Okay, Laura. I’m all ears. Tell me everything I need to know about this engagement.”

  Chapter 2

  I spent a good part of the night talki
ng to Laura. I still found it hard to believe she was getting married. Very movie-like.

  They’d met in a resort, and it was love at first sight. He met her family and they all instantly loved him. He was a young, successful entrepreneur, apparently loaded. And for what Laura told me, well-endowed. Not that it made a lot of difference to me, but I knew it was important for Laura. She liked big dicks—in every sense of the word.

  I could hardly wait to meet her groom-to-be, who I expected to be an asshole.

  What bothered me the most was the fact that my wingman—or wingwoman—was now lost to the world of freedom, about to become a tied-up housewife.

  A real shame.

  ~*~

  The following day, I received an email from Laura in which she gave me explicit details of what she expected from me in my role as her bridesmaid:

  Dear Kassie,

  As you know, I had to pick all our best friends to be bridesmaids and stand by my side during my wedding, but of course you are the maid of honor. Eddie and I picked out the date: Saturday June 6 in Bora Bora. I know it might sound far away and expensive, but it really isn’t, especially with your wonderful planning skills at hand.

  I am so excited that you get to be my MOH. You’ll be throwing me my engagement and bachelorette party, and after experiencing what you did in Marisol’s, Natalie’s, and Denise’s events, I can’t wait to see what you plan for me. Of course, the rest of the girls will help you out, but to be completely honest, you’re the one with the biggest role in my wedding.

  With that in mind, I wanted to establish some ground rules with you. First of all, I need to know that you’ll be able to clear your calendar for the wedding. If it’s a problem for you, I really need to know NOW. By the end of the week, I want to discuss with you the rest of the dates for the engagement party and bachelorette party. I’m counting on you to be by my side for every one of those events. I can’t depend on the rest of the girls, but I know that I can count on you. The wedding, as previously stated, will be in Bora Bora, the engagement party at home in L.A., and the bachelorette party in Vegas (I know, cliche, but I really want you to take me there).

  Most of the girls live near L.A. now that they’ve moved out of the city to start their families. Please talk to them, because I don’t want there to be any problems with them attending any of the events. Also, you know how Denise is always complaining that money’s tight? Please help her out by setting a savings plan for her and that good-for-nothing husband of hers. I really don’t want her whining about how she can’t afford this and that. I don’t have time to deal with her, I’m sorry. She needs to help that husband of hers get a job soon. Sol, too. Please explain to Marisol how she needs someone to take care of her rugrat. I can’t have that toddler at my wedding. No matter how cute he is, no babies allowed on my day. Which reminds me, when is Natalie having her baby? That’s going to be a problem. How fat do you think she’ll get? She needs to look her best. We all do. Please consider the fact that adjustments are going to be needed on her dress after she has her baby.

  Dresses. We need something really elegant and chic. I don’t want cheap dresses that’ll make my wedding look tacky. We’ll all dress in light colors, since the wedding is at the beach, probably all white, or not? I’ll think about it. I don’t want to get lost with the rest of the guests on the wedding. We’ll discuss colors and styles later.

  I know that you have your iPhone on you all the time, so no excuses for not answering me immediately. Since I’m out of the country at the moment, I’ll need all your help with the wedding planning. Don’t worry, I won’t call you in the middle of the night again (unless it’s really important).

  Ever since I can remember, I’ve dreamed about my wedding, and now that the day’s about to become a reality, I can hardly wait. I’m so fortunate to have you with me every step of the way. I know it’s going to be the most epic wedding ever.

  I’ll keep in touch!

  Love,

  Laura

  And so it began.

  After planning three previous weddings, I’d kind of gotten the hang of it. My concern wasn’t really about wedding preparation and all the events. Those I could handle. I did, after all, have a Masters in Business and Procedure Management.

  What exactly did I do? Easy. Businesses were always looking for new ways to improve themselves: reduce costs, errors, delays.... My work was simple. I was the one who told businesses how to create process solutions on a broader, cross-functional, organizational-wide scale to drive overall performance.

  So planning was exactly my thing. People, however, were not.

  Who exactly were we dealing with in a wedding? People. Families. A couple. But more importantly: a bride. Dearest Laura had started the “Bridezilla” phase and was already trying to enslave her maids.

  Been there. Done that.

  I’m surprised, to say the least, that this was her first wedding cliche (and first check on my Bridezilla list). However, I knew by now that wedding mechanics weren’t really about processes and checklists; they dealt more with emotions and wishes.

  Bridezilla Checklist

  ☑ Enslaved bridesmaids

  Because the wedding was all about the bride and how the people around her had to make her wishes come true.

  So, after sending an email to the rest of our friends (a very moderate version of Laura’s), I set an appointment with them to discuss some wedding arrangements and have a video chat with Laura.

  Chapter 3

  “What? Laura’s getting married? No way.” Denise sounded as incredulous as I first was when I heard the news.

  “Yes way,” I assured my dark-eyed friend.

  Denise was the oldest of us, although probably not the wisest. She married her high school sweetheart when they were way too young and excited, and it hadn’t been flowers and candy ever since. Not because they didn’t love each other, but because they had had a series of financial problems that had them constantly worried. The latest issue was her husband’s four-year-long unemployment. That’s right, it wasn’t completely easy when they decided not to go to college because they went ahead and got married. However, that didn’t deprive my friend of getting golden highlights in her long, straight hair.

  “It’s hard to believe,” Natalie pitched in. “She hasn’t had a serious relationship since Julian.”

  Of all of our friends, Natalie was the sweetest. She was the listener of the group, and there was no problem in the world about which she wouldn’t empathize with you. Unfortunately, that was as good as it got. You didn’t go to Natalie to find solutions or any bright insight. Plus, her innocent-next-door-neighbor look always made us feel comfortable around her. Her pixie-cut, platinum-blond hair and those big blue eyes were always there when we needed a shoulder to cry on.

  “And she was having such a good time slutting around with you,” Marisol, the last of my best friends, added matter-of-factly.

  “Hey, I resent that. I’m not a slut.” Why people always judged me because I was a strong, independent woman was beyond me. I simply assumed they were all a bit jealous.

  It was no surprise for me that Marisol was the one pointing it out. If we ever wanted to hear the truth about something, we’d go to Marisol. She might be disguised now as a loving mother, but whoever met Sol before her little toddler was born knew she wasn’t the one to hide the awful truth. Even if she was the last to marry, she was the first to procreate. Sol, as we called her because of her shiny personality, now looked dull and exhausted. Apparently, children did that to a woman. The beautiful brunette with almond-brown eyes always wore a ponytail and comfortable clothes these days.

  We’d met in Sol’s house, since it was more convenient for her and her little one. Plus, she always had healthy snacks and drinks. I rarely ate any of those, and I was sure they were meant for her son and not for her friends. Still, she always had a tray of offerings for us to munch on while we talked.

  “No offense. Sorry.” Marisol really meant no offense at all;
she simply wanted to point out what she believed was a fact.

  “Well, your lifestyle might indicate otherwise.” Denise sounded resentful.

  When had she become so bitter?

  “Why exactly is my lifestyle being discussed at the moment?” I was the only one of my friends left unmarried, and by the way they all looked at the moment, I couldn't be more grateful.

  “I guess ‘cause Laura was livin’ la vida loca with you not so long ago,” Natalie chimed in without any sort of malice in her voice. If anything, she was trying to lighten the mood—as always.

  “Exactly. And now she’s getting married?” Denise still seemed in denial, the first stage of loss and grief. Honestly, if anyone was entitled to suffer, it should’ve been me. They all had husbands they could turn to. I, on the other hand, enjoyed my single life plenty, but I’d just happened to lose my partner in crime.

  “Concentrate, girls,” I told them all. “This meeting isn’t to discuss the why, but the how.”

  “Well, we all know how,” Natalie pointed out. Silly observation, really.

  “Natalie, you know what I mean.” Sometimes even her sweetness got me crazy.

  “The when is more like it.” Marisol tried to sound smart. Well, she at least changed her mood enough to be sarcastic instead of bitchy.

  “Thanks, Sol, for your wonderful participation,” I said. Could any of them just concentrate for five minutes so we could get this over with? Laura was going to call us anytime to hang out via video conference, and I wanted everyone to be ready so we could avoid any drama. “Let me talk, and you all just listen. Laura’s decided to marry Eddie,” I started. Once more, I was interrupted.

  “Who’s Eddie?” Denise quietly asked Marisol.

  “Who knows.” Marisol simply stated.

  “Shh, Kassie’s starting to get all red,” Natalie warned.

  Yes, even if my skin wasn’t light, it responded the same way when upset or embarrassed. My late parents had a modern marriage—one that didn’t see anything wrong with interracial relationships. Therefore, my heritage was African-Russian, giving me a wonderful combination of genes to create my beautiful self. Light blue eyes with caramel-colored skin, lips everyone envied, and wonderful brown-golden curls.