Ginny looked at Josh, who smiled back at her. “Hey, I wanted one from the start.”
“Alright then,” Ginny said. “But I don’t want a bunch of traditional, boring crap. And I don’t want to spend a ton of money.”
“I swear to you, Ginny,” I said, crossing my hands over my heart. “I’ll make this wedding just perfect for you guys. You’ll have so much fun! And it will be cheap, I promise!”
“Oh God, Gin, do you realize what you’ve done?” Annie grumbled. “She’s going to be absolutely impossible from now on.”
I glared at her.
“Seriously, Jen with a mission.” Annie shuddered, making Josh laugh. “What a scary thought.”
Chapter Nine
‘One of the most important (and fun!) things you can do in preparation for the wedding is picking out the dress. The dress helps set the tone for the entire event. Will you go fancy, elegant, sexy, simple? These are some of the most vital decisions you will make for your big day. When choosing the dress, be open-minded to trying different styles—oftentimes what we think we will love diminishes once it’s off the hanger. You should try on many different styles and fits! Try to make the shopping experience fun—bring along important people and make a day of it!’—The Bride’s Guide to a Fabulous Wedding!
My favorite thing about weddings, without a doubt, is the dress. More than anything else, the dress is the one thing that makes me love weddings. You know all those wedding dress shopping reality shows that have been on cable networks lately? Yeah, I’ve totally recorded those.
So I found myself totally pumped to take first Kiki, then Ginny, wedding dress shopping. As I had told both of them, the choice of wedding dress would help set the tone for the wedding.
As promised, I planned a dress shopping day for Kiki on a Thursday about two weeks after our initial client meeting. I had made appointments at three different high-end boutiques in the area, booked a limo to cart us around, and made lunch reservations at a popular sushi place downtown.
For an extra touch, I arranged to have muffins, fresh fruit, and mimosas waiting in the limo when it picked us up at the NoLimits offices. Kiki was thrilled, her excitement at such a high level I was afraid she might break a blood vessel in her face or something.
“Oh, Jen!” she squealed when she had climbed into the limo. “Look at this! Mimosas! And food! Oh, you are such a doll, I can’t believe this! Oh! This day is going to be so fun!” She was literally clapping her hands, bouncing in her seat so hard she nearly fell over on to the floor of the limo.
Kiki’s mother, superbly put together today in head to toe gray cashmere, put a calming hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Let’s not wear ourselves out, dear,” she murmured. Kiki relaxed back into her seat, and I was seized by a desire to kiss Mrs. Barker.
Joining us were Kiki’s four bridesmaids: her cousin Bella, a quiet girl in glasses and a turtleneck who appeared less than thrilled at the prospect of spending the day dress shopping; and Kiki’s three best friends, Kara, Kendall, and Krissy, seemingly identical pretty blond girls who I was destined to mix up for the entirety of the day.
The first appointment was at a designer shop in Birmingham, one of the wealthier towns in the metro area. The boutique was incredibly exclusive—you basically had to know someone in order to get an appointment. As I was able to drop the name Barker, I had no problem securing a double session with their top consultant, Christina, who met us at the door, gushing over Kiki and welcoming us all into the shop.
We were led to a plush sitting area, decorated in silk creams and whites. Soft music was filtered in overhead and an assistant appeared as soon as we sat down to offer us champagne.
I had a great amount of work to do today, I knew that, but I allowed myself one moment there on the couch to simply breathe in and enjoy my surroundings. All along the perimeter of the room were racks and racks of dresses in every cut and fabric imaginable. I was in heaven.
Kiki and I had a brief consultation with Christina, who wanted an idea of what we were looking for. When Kiki pulled out her idea board Christina’s face visibly paled.
“I just love this look,” Kiki exclaimed, pointing at an intricately beaded mermaid style. “Oh, and this!” she cried, gesturing at a full tulle skirted ball gown. “But these simple ones are great too!”
Christina swallowed once, then again, before she finally managed to smile brightly at Kiki. “I see we’ve got some work to do here!” she said, and led a very bouncy Kiki down the hallway to a changing room.
The first dress Kiki tried was a strapless fitted mermaid style, with a smattering of rhinestones dusting the sweetheart neckline.
“Wow, Kiks!” squealed Kara (or was it Kissy?) when Kiki emerged from the dressing room. “That is, like, totally sexy and hot. You’re gorgeous!”
It was true: Kiki was a knock-out in the gown, and it was totally va-va-voom. Which was nice and all, but not really what I pictured Kiki in for her wedding.
“What do you think about it, Kiki?” I asked, determined not to dissuade her until I knew how she felt.
“I’m not sure,” she said, more serious than I had ever seen her. “I mean, it’s beautiful and all, but I’m just not sure if it’s quite…”
I took that as my cue. “It’s gorgeous on you, obviously. You can wear anything. But I see you in something more sophisticated, more classic. Maybe not quite so sexy, not for your wedding.”
Mrs. Barker shot me an approving gaze, and I felt a warm rush of pride.
“You are, like, totally right, Jen. Totally. God, you are, like, so smart!”
I was feeling pretty good now, confident, and I decided to take a little more control of the proceedings.
“Christina, I would like to see Kiki in a ball gown.” I paused, considering. “Let’s try the Sorrento, the one with the antique lace?”
Christina nodded and led Kiki back down the hall.
For the next six hours, Kiki tried on dresses. I saw her in beaded gowns, lace gowns, fitted gowns, ball gowns, mermaids, sheaths, a-lines. She compared strapless dresses and cap sleeves, halters and sweetheart necklines. Everything looked good on her. She loved them all.
After three stores and dozens of dresses, Kiki was nowhere closer to choosing something than she had been before we started. But she didn’t seem frustrated or down about it—on the contrary, she remained excited and enthralled by every single dress she tried on. Her friends never faltered in their praise or enthusiasm either, though after the second hour her cousin seemed to be looking for a sharp object with which to stab out her eyes.
By the time we reached the offices of NoLimits at the end of the day, I felt ready to collapse. I couldn’t imagine ever, ever having to do that again.
But I would, of course, because Kiki still needed a dress, and I was still her wedding planner.
***
Not surprisingly, shopping with Ginny was a completely different experience than shopping with Kiki. There were no limos in sight, no mimosas or twelve dollar muffins. Gone too were the luxurious boutiques filled with simpering salespeople—Ginny, Annie, and I were trying our luck at a consignment store.
“I can’t believe you’re considering buying a used wedding dress,” Annie muttered from the back seat of my Jeep as I drove us into Detroit. “I mean, seriously, Jen. For her wedding.”
“Shut up, Annie,” I ordered. “Ginny is the kind of bride who thinks outside of the box. Plus, she’s looking to save some money.”
“Yeah, but used? That’s just sad.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insisted. “This store has a lot of great stuff in it. A lot of the dresses were never worn—they were donated after weddings were called off or plans were changed. And the ones that were used were only worn once. It’s no big deal.”
I could sense that Ginny, too, was skeptical.
“Listen,” I told her, turning to face her after I parked. “If we don’t find anything we like, we move on to plan B. But I can g
uarantee you there are some really nice dresses in there, dresses you could never afford otherwise. And the staff are very professional and good at what they do. Trust me.”
“Okay,” Ginny said simply. “If you think it’s a good idea, I’ll give it a chance.”
I smiled at her and tried to ignore Annie as she affected a huge cough that sounded suspiciously like “Sucker!”
Once we were inside we were shown to a small dressing room. It may not have been as luxe as the rooms I had seen as a member of Kiki’s entourage, but it was comfortable and clean.
Our consultant’s name was Carol, a friendly woman probably in her late sixties who looked like she had been doing this for many years.
“What exactly are you looking for, dear?” she asked politely, her voice soft with a slight southern accent.
“I’m not sure,” Ginny said, looking at me with a panicked expression.
“Ginny is having a somewhat casual wedding,” I explained. “We don’t want to see anything too fancy—no ball gowns or princess dresses. I think, personally, with Ginny’s figure an a-line or a sheath would be perfect.”
“Stand please, dear,” Carol said. Ginny complied and Carol looked her up and down. “Hmm,” she said, nodding her head. “I think you’re right…are you a size six, dear?”
“Um…yeah?” Ginny said, clearly bewildered.
“I thought so. All right then, I’ll bring a few silhouettes in and we can go from there, sound good?” I noticed that Carol was addressing me now, much to Ginny’s obvious relief.
“Perfect. Thank you.”
“Oh, one more thing,” Carol said, turning at the door. “How do you feel about lace?”
Ginny looked at her blankly.
“She loves it,” I promised.
“Wow,” Ginny said once Carol had left. “I so was not born with this gene.”
“You’re doing fine,” I assured her.
“When I get married, I’m not going for any of this crap,” Annie declared. “I’m going to get married in a white leather tube dress in Vegas. No muss, no fuss.”
I snorted. “Are you a porn star now?”
Annie sighed. “If I don’t land a role soon, it might come to that.” In addition to her work with the youth theater, Annie was an aspiring actress. Paid gigs had been hard to come by, unfortunately.
“What about you, Jen?” Ginny asked. “What’s your dream dress?”
I shrugged. “I plan weddings for other people, not myself,” I reminded her. “I’ve never given it much thought.”
Lies. Total lies. No one thinks about her future wedding as much as me.
Carol returned with five different gowns, and I felt a rush of excitement.
“Ready, Ginny?” I asked, looking at her with a smile.
Ginny shrugged. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
***
Few things in life can compare to the sight of one of your best friends in a wedding dress for the first time.
Ginny was beautiful in every gown she tried on. I could tell as soon as the first dress hit her body, she was hooked. She’d always been a fashionista, Ginny, and as soon as she could get over the weirdness of this being for her wedding, she got really into it
So did Annie and I. By the end of the afternoon the two of us were practically skipping around the store, picking up veils and tiaras, necklaces and brooches, anything and everything to enhance and perfect the vision of Ginny in a white gown.
Carol did a good job. All of the dresses were flattering, all appropriate for the kind of wedding I was envisioning for Ginny. After four dresses I was completely in love with two: an organza strapless a-line with delicate beading on the waist and a chiffon empire waist sheath with lace cap sleeves.
“Okay, ladies, one more,” Carol said, ushering Ginny away from the floor length mirror where she had been preening for a quarter of an hour. I hoped we weren’t annoying Carol too much—admittedly, we were being childish, like little girls in the ultimate dress-up game. But this was so much fun!
Annie and I decided to see how we would look in tiaras and veils, thus when Ginny walked out a few minutes later in what would be The Dress, we regrettably looked pretty silly.
“Oh. My. God,” Annie whispered. “Bitch. That’s it.” (Annie had a tendency to swear when she got excited.)
“I love it,” Ginny said simply. “This is the dress I want to wear when I marry Josh.”
The dress was phenomenal. Fitted ivory lace hugged the curve of her hips before flowing out slightly below her knees. The bodice, too, was completely lace, stretching up into thick straps and dropping away into a low v-neck. A silk champagne sash wrapped around her tiny waist.
“How did you have a baby ten months ago, you whore?” Annie muttered.
“Jen?” Ginny asked. “What do you think?”
My throat was too tight to speak. Ginny looked perfect. Ridiculously, heart-breakingly beautiful. My best friend—a bride. It took my breath away.
“It’s perfect,” I finally managed to murmur. “You’re perfect.”
I wrapped my arms around her, loving her so much in that moment, and Annie soon followed suit. We stood there for a minute, the three of us hugging, before Ginny finally pulled away.
“Um, guys,” she said, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “Why the hell are you wearing veils?”
***
I was pretty proud of myself as we drove home. I had helped Ginny to find the absolute perfect dress. I had done it without high-end salons or thousands of dollars—in fact, Ginny’s designer Jim Hjelm gown set her back exactly four hundred bucks.
Kiki may have a glamorous lifestyle, I decided firmly, but I was more certain then ever that those trappings, in the end, weren’t the only things that mattered.
When I got home, there was a message for me on my phone. Kiki had decided to continue her shopping elsewhere. Her daddy was going to lend her his private jet after the engagement party. She wanted me to join her for a weekend shopping excursion in New York City.
On second thought, maybe there was a place for glamour in my life after all.
Chapter Ten
‘Choosing your venue can be a very complicated undertaking. There are many factors to consider—location, atmosphere, amenities, food—and don’t forget the all important matter of price! It is important to consider each of these factors, but it’s also important to trust your gut. When you find the perfect place, you’ll know!’—The Bride’s Guide to a Fabulous Wedding!
I was not looking forward to the venue selection day. If my experience with Kiki at the dress shops was anything to go by, that girl couldn’t make a decision to save her life. To make matters worse, Jason would be joining us. The prospect of spending an entire day with him made me shudder. But Kiki’s parents would be there today, and I knew Jason wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to seem vital to the process in their presence.
We were supposed to meet at the Barker house at nine. Jason had arranged for us to tour six different venues, ranging from a country club to a yacht club. It was going to be an exhausting day.
Shortly before nine I pulled up into the driveway—which was so long it felt more like an actual street—of the most gorgeous mansion I had ever seen. The house was sprawling, massive, and very opulent. I suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious of my somewhat battered Jeep.
The Barkers and Jason were waiting beside a sleek black stretch limo. Of course, we would have to travel in style. I parked and got out of the car, determined not to show how awkward and out of place I felt. My mother had taught me, long ago, that the key to success was believing you deserved it. Usually I was pretending more than actually believing, but the effect was the same.
“Jen, Jen, hi!” Kiki was shouting before I could take a step toward her. I marveled, not for the first or last time, how a grown woman could act so much like a ten-year-old, but I forced the thought out of my mind and smiled brightly as I approached the group.
Predictably, Kiki hugged
me as soon as I was within arm’s reach. “Oh, Jen! I’m so excited about today. Aren’t you excited?”
“I am!” I agreed. “Jason has some really great places for us to check out.”
“And you’ll get to meet Matty!”
I knew from our discussions that Matt was Eric’s older brother, the best man, but I had yet to meet him.
“You’ll love him. He’s, like, so awesome.” Kiki leaned closer to me and whispered, “I actually think he’d be perfect for you. You’ll see.” She winked at me.
I managed not to roll my eyes. Just what I needed, Kiki trying to play matchmaker.
“Oooh, here they are! Oh yay, we can get started!”
I glanced in the direction Kiki was pointing and was surprised to see a very old, battered-looking Ford truck pull up behind my own Jeep. Eric was climbing out of the passenger seat and Kiki was running toward him, throwing her arms wide for a hug, before I caught sight of Matt.
I noticed several things simultaneously. I was struck, immediately, by his size. Matt was tall, much taller than his brother, but it was more than his height. He was broad, clearly muscular under his soft grey sweater. His hair was thick, wavy, and brown. Though his jeans and sweater looked suitably nice, I noted there was a bit of caked mud on his heavy work boots.
He was beautiful.
Like, seriously beautiful. There was something about his height, his size, his obvious manliness, that just grabbed me. He was totally not the type of guy that I usually went for, but man, something about this guy was causing me to react in a very physical, visceral way.
I could see Kiki watching me from the corner of my eye, and I managed to pull myself together. This was ridiculous. I had a job to do, a very important job, and there was no way I was going to let some guy get in the way of that.
Kiki made the introductions—I was relieved that Matt stood back, nodding at Jason and me in our turn rather than shaking our hands. I could really do without any physical contact from the disturbingly gorgeous man.
Three Girls And A Wedding Page 5
