by Amy L. Gale
“Thanks again, for getting us in. I didn’t realize people make appointments a year in advance.”
“What are besties for?” She slides out of the chair of the small sidewalk café table.
“You’ve always got my back, love ya.” I blow her a kiss.
“Don’t worry, I’ll cash in on all these favors one day.” She winks and tosses two twenties on the table. “Have fun and call me later. Tootles.”
I wave and suck down the last few drops of my peach tea. The girly gene, used for things like important shopping trips and interior decorating doesn’t exist in my body. I mean, if the lady at the make-up counter didn’t help me choose shades I’d be running around like either a whore or a clown.
I glance at my watch. Okay, an hour until D-day. Maybe I’ll get to the shop early and come up with a game plan with Rochelle. Since I’ve met Lexie all of two times, I have no idea what she likes in general, let alone in dresses. I’m sure this’ll be a breeze. Dammit, did she mention a wedding venue? When I questioned the band in that disaster of an interview, everything she said to me fell on deaf ears. I’m doomed.
I gesture for the server. According the GPS, I should arrive at Bridal Couture in twenty minutes so that roughly translates to an hour when factoring in parking and time to prepare myself mentally. My stomach flip-flops as I start the car. Waves of nausea pass through like tidal waves. Great, I guess I forgot to factor in time for mental freak outs. Déjà vu floods me, bringing me back to Speech 101 and my heartfelt memoir of Josh. Sure, I had the room in tears and ended up with an A plus, but I’d like to keep the crying to a minimum today.
***
I shift the car into park and trudge through the small parking lot. The Victorian building bursts with old world charm. I scan the gingerbread woodwork along the porch, admiring the peaks and valleys of the witch’s hat roof. The quaintness of the surroundings is very exclusive, like you need an invite to walk through the large wooden doors. Chloe never name drops, but I bet a ton of celebrities come here to find a gown for their special day.
I mosey to the front of the building and step inside. The foyer gleams like a mansion back in the golden era of Hollywood. A gold-trimmed crystal chandelier, half the size of my car, hangs from the vaulted ceiling. Burgundy and gold curtains decorate the walk out windows, and intricately designed moldings finish the look. It’s like I took a step back in time to a really rich friend’s house.
I continue forward and walk up to the front desk, containing more state of the art computers than we have at Entertainment Rocks! “Hi, I’m here for an eleven o’clock appointment. The name’s Ali Whitman.”
A girl with dark hair in a severe ponytail taps away at the computer keys. “Yes, Chloe’s friend. Is the rest of your party here?”
“Not yet, I thought maybe I could come early and get acquainted with Rochelle until the bride gets here.” More like, come up with a game plan.
“Sorry, we run a tight ship here. Rochelle won’t arrive until two minutes before your appointment time. Feel free to have a complimentary glass of lemon-infused water. You can sit right in the waiting area.”
The waiting area consists of two couches that look like they belong in a museum. My Aunt Nancy would have plastic all over those babies. A beautiful glass table, covered with perfectly placed bridal magazines sits in between them. I pour a small glass of lemon water and plop onto the couch. Okay, maybe I can browse the magazines and get a few ideas. God knows why I’m stressing over this. Lexie probably knows exactly what kind of dress she wants. I mean, girls dream about their wedding day forever. I used to… before it all ended.
Heels click along the marble, pulling me back into reality. Ah, maybe Chloe has more influence here than I thought. I lift my eyes hoping to see Rochelle, but a blond bombshell stands before me.
Jenna slides off her sunglasses and tosses her hair over a shoulder. “Nice place.”
Okay, that may be the best compliment I’ll ever get from her. She eyes the store like she’s purposely looking for a flaw. For once, she’s speechless.
Lexie strolls in behind her. “Ali, this place is amazing.” She scans the room like a kid in a candy store.
At least I’m making some headway. I’ve got to find out more about the wedding without asking too many specifics. The last thing I want is for Lexie to think I wasn’t listening to her the first time we met.
I rise from the couch and set my water down on the table. “How far have you gotten with wedding planning?”
“I have a few venues in mind, but we haven’t chosen one yet. We’re getting married on the beach in June, after the next tour.” Lexie picks up a magazine and leafs through the pages.
Reality hits me. Tyler’s going on tour shortly. I know he said we can make it work, but can we really? Being apart is the biggest obstacle in any relationship. Add in women crawling all over you, and alcohol, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster. Maybe this shopping trip can give me a little more information about what’s about to happen.
“Beach weddings are beautiful. You should look into a sand ceremony. It’s a great keepsake.” The mixing together of colored sand in a vase to signify unity stands out in my mind from the last beach wedding I attended back in Maine. That’s probably the extent of my knowledge on the subject, but at least I sound like I know what I’m talking about.
“I saw that on an episode of “Say Yes to the Dress.” Lexie folds the magazine in half. “What do you guys think about something like this?” Lexie flashes a photo of a beach bride in an ankle length white strapless gown embellished with silver crystals. The dress gathers to the side with small silver crystals scattered along the length of it, adding bling to the classic look. “I think I’m in love with this dress and I haven’t even seen it in person.”
Wow, this was a million times easier than I thought. “It’s an amazing choice, classic meets rocker chic.” Okay, not sure where I pulled that from but her smile could light up the room.
A woman who resembles Zsa Zsa Gabor struts in wearing a champagne sequined dress. Ah, I bet she’s Rochelle. I walk up to her holding out my hand. “Rochelle, Ali Whitman.”
She shakes my hand. “Yes, Chloe mentioned you were stopping by with a friend.”
I gesture toward Lexie. “This is the lovely Lexie and she’s getting married in June on the beach.”
“Ah, darling. Beach weddings are fabulous. Congratulations. You are gorgeous. Let’s see if we can find something in here as beautiful as you.”
Lexie blushes. “I like this one.” She shows the magazine picture to Rochelle.
“Yes, it’s brand new from Vera Wang. We just received it yesterday. Let me start a dressing room for you and bring it in.” Rochelle scurries off.
“I can’t believe they have it.” Lexie practically jumps up and down.
Jenna puts her arm around Lexie. “Try on a few, when you find the right one you’ll know… just like your man.”
“Everything is finally coming together. I mean, we haven’t really done anything other than say we want to get married at the beach. Now, it’s… real.”
Nothing seems real until it’s actually happening. You can imagine it in your mind a million times and think about how it’s going to go down and what you’ll do in that moment but it never truly hits you until you’re in that moment. I get to share this moment with Lexie. It’s like the epitome of female bonding.
“It’s the best day of your life.” I flash a smile.
Jenna squints. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even be there.”
Okay, here we go. I brush it off and pretend I didn’t hear her.
“Of course she’ll be there.” Lexie sets the magazine down. “I’ve never seen Tyler like this before. You’ll be stuck with us more than you think.”
An involuntary smile forms. Tyler and I are going strong, and everything is great at the moment, but Lexie seems to know something I don’t. Of course, I’ve never seen how Tyler acted before we met but if he’s changed since we’
ve been together that has to mean something. Maybe the same thing happened for Lexie and Van.
Rochelle returns with another bridal associate. “Come, girls, I pulled a few dresses and set them in the fitting room.”
We follow Rochelle to a room which is more like a small house than a fitting room. A round platform surrounded by mirrors sits in the middle of the pink carpeted room. Two tan Victorian couches face the platform as if you have the best seat to watch the stars grace the red carpet. A large dressing area is off to the right, separated by a thick gold curtain. A table with lemon-infused water, a small fruit tray, and cheese and crackers sits between the couches.
Jenna’s eyes widen as she peruses the room. It’s like she’s in disbelief that I could arrange an appointment at a place like this. Her snide comments have been to a minimum so far so maybe that’s her way of saying she’s impressed.
Jenna and I plop down on the couch while Lexie and Rochelle enter the dressing area.
I pop a grape in my mouth. “Do you think she’ll find the dress of her dreams?”
Jenna turns toward me. “Hello… she already did.”
Ah, there’s the sparkling Jenna attitude I’m used to. “You never know until you try it on, right?”
“Please, anything looks good on Lexie. When you’ve got that going for you, you can pick whatever you want.” She nibbles on a cracker.
And that statement right there tells me everything I need to know about Jenna. As long as you’re hot, you can get anything you want. I hate to break it to her, but life doesn’t work that way. It’s not my job to enlighten her about reality. I just want to be civil enough to be in each other’s company without World War III breaking out.
“How about your wedding? Did you find your dream dress right away?” She seems to like talking about herself and she has more experience than me in the wedding department. Maybe we can put her knowledge to good use.
“I had my wedding dress picked out since I was six. Once I found my prince charming it was a done deal.” She lowers her eyebrows. “Why? Did Tyler propose or something? He’s acting like aliens took over his body so I wouldn’t doubt it.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? From what I’ve seen on earth, Tyler acts like a guy who cares about a girl, totally normal behavior. I’m the one who did a whole 360, muting the tiny voice in my head that’s been telling me the same thing for years, stay away from the complications of love. Okay, so I have no idea how Tyler acted before he met me, but there’s no way he turned into another person. Control freak Jenna needs to step down. I’m done with the bullshit. I’ve tried everything, and I’m sick of walking on eggshells. This ends now.
“What’s your problem?” My hands inadvertently clench into fists.
“Excuse me?” She sneers.
“Let’s lay it on the line, Jenna. I’ve had enough of the digs, and the bitchy attitude. Let’s settle this.” I hop up from my chair. Dear God, what am I doing?
She stands up and sarcastically chuckles. “Are we going outside to rumble?” She folds her arms across her chest.
Okay, maybe I’m being a little dramatic. “Tyler and I are together. End of story. You’re causing all this unnecessary friction between us, between you and Tyler, and amongst the band. It needs to stop.”
“Who the hell do you think you are? I’ve been here since the beginning, honey and I’m sure as hell not letting some smutty reporter ruin Devil’s Garden’s reputation because she’s banging Tyler.” She waves her finger in my face.
It takes every ounce of my self-control to stop me from punching her in the face. Doesn’t she get it? I’m not some groupie using Tyler for sex. Wait a minute, that’s it. She thinks I’m worse than a groupie. In her warped mind, she thinks I’m using Tyler for articles and to further my career. I get it now. If we have a torturous break-up and I write something negative about the band where does that leave her? Lexie has her own career and can support herself, but Jenna has as much invested into Devil’s Garden as the guys who are on stage. Without Devil’s Garden, she’s lost.
“Jenna, that’s not happening. I’ve told you this before.” Am I talking to the wall? Everything falls on deaf ears.
“Yeah, and your word is good as gold. Please, I’ve seen it a million times. A woman scorned is more dangerous than a nuclear weapon.” She shakes her head.
Actually, that would’ve been a pretty good line for my interview with Elle. What a thing to think about at a time like this. Looks like my brain turned back into self-defense mode. I’ve got to settle this now.
“I made a mistake and believe me… I learned my lesson.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “I care about Tyler, and I don’t want to lose him. But I can’t have everyone fighting because we’re together. It’s like some screwed up version of Romeo and Juliet.”
“So you’re both going to off yourselves?” She smirks.
Yeah, I bet she’d like that. “I thought I’d try another approach. If Romeo’s family got to know Juliet, maybe they would’ve been okay with the relationship and everyone would’ve lived happily ever after.”
“Or they would’ve started a huge war and everyone dies.”
Demons are easier to make deals with than Jenna; at least they only want your soul. She devours every speck of hope.
I throw my hands in the air. “I tried to apologize, I’m helping Lexie with her wedding plans, and putting up with all these digs you throw at me to try and make things better for Tyler. I’d rather rip my ears off than hear another one of your insults, but here I am… trying again. What’s it going to take, Jenna?”
“A hell of a lot more than that.” She taps her foot.
“Name it… at this point I’ll do whatever you want so we can be civil.” I regret those words the second they slip out of my mouth.
“For starters, drop the, I’m-so-important attitude. I get it, you’ve got connections. That doesn’t win any of us over… although I could use a massage and a mani/pedi.” She flashes a smile.
Is she joking or insulting me? Maybe both, with Jenna you can never tell what she’s thinking, which is probably a good thing because if I could read her mind I might want to take Juliet’s way out.
“Can we start over, fresh?” My stomach drops as she stares at me.
“Listen, I’m doing something I never do… giving you another chance. It’s best for the band.” She drops her arms to her sides. “Now, we’re not BFF’s or anything, but I’ll tone down the drama.”
That’s the best I can expect from Jenna. Who knows, maybe we will become friends. Yeah, and maybe the sky will fall, and hell will freeze over, and I’ll win the lottery on the same day.
A split-second later Lexie walks out of the fitting area. The dress looks amazing. It flows with every step she takes, like she’s floating. The material follows every curve of her body as if it was tailor-made just for her. She walks onto the platform in front of the three-way mirror.
My eyes tear. I’m not sure if it’s a stress release from the altercation with Jenna or if my mind is thinking back to a time when my dreams matched Lexie’s. I take a deep breath and blink repeatedly, suppressing any impending tears from falling.
“It’s perfect.” I know it’s not my place to say anything but it just slipped out.
“This is it… the dress I’ll be wearing when I promise forever to Van.” Lexie’s smile lights up the room.
Jenna turns toward me. “You hit this one out of the park… nice start.”
And somehow the compliment makes me feel more uneasy than happy. Sort of like when you’ve given 110% and nailed your goal greater than you expected, and then someone tells you I expect great things from you or you’re off to a great start. Everything I do seems like it’s part of test, the Jenna test. But has anyone ever passed?
CHAPTER 15—RED FLAG
“So you pretty much made a deal with the devil… for me.” Tyler leans in toward the center console of his Camaro, gliding his thumb along my thigh.
>
“Better with the devil you know.” I place my hand over his, interlocking our fingers as he drives down the boulevard. “Underneath all the hostility, and general evil bitchiness, Jenna knows causing unnecessary tension doesn’t help anyone.”
“I think I could use a little tension relief, babe.” He turns toward me and winks before stopping at a red light.
“Hmm, maybe I can help with that.” I slide my hand over his board shorts. The siren deep within comes to the surface, ready to unleash her song of seduction.
A white Corvette pulls up next to us, lining up perfectly with Tyler’s Camaro. I quickly pull my hand away. One of the downfalls of riding in a convertible, complete and total lack of privacy. Heat creeps across my cheeks like wildfire. No doubt they’re as red as Tyler’s flashy car. A young guy, maybe around eighteen, with buzzed cut hair, looks directly at Tyler. He lifts his chin, in a ‘what’s up’ kind of way and revs the engine. Tyler nods and tightens my seatbelt.
“What are you doing?” My heart thumps against my chest.
“Getting ready to kick this guy’s ass.” Tyler revs his engine and stares straight ahead at the light.
“You can’t be serious.” Is he insane? I try and reach for the door handle and escape from this disaster of a situation but I’m frozen… paralyzed. A green hue flashes and Tyler floors it. I sit back against the seat, bracing myself with my feet. Wasn’t one near death experience with me enough for a lifetime? I suck in a breath, but there’s no air. My body shuts itself down, almost as if I’m in shock. I close my eyes tight.
The wind whips through my hair like the time I rode The Twister back in Playland on one of our class trips. I squeezed Josh’s hand so tight he had small bruises the size of fingertips on the top of his hand for a week. Once I stepped onto solid land, I barely made it to the garbage can before puking up my lunch. And that was on a state inspected ride, nothing like what’s happening now.