Married a Stripper

by M. S. Parker

  I couldn't lie to him about this anymore. I needed to tell somebody.

  “I slept with Flynn.” The words came out of me in a rush, like a dam inside me had suddenly broken.

  The only emotion he betrayed was a faint flicker of his lashes.

  “It happened before I met Edward,” I hurried to add. “Like right before. I'd interviewed at the company and Flynn barged in, pretty much wrecked the interview although I doubt I would have gotten the job anyway. I told him off when I ran into him at a club the next day and he told me he wanted to do a photoshoot of my hands. I needed the money.”

  The story came pouring out and Cody listened, nodding occasionally, but otherwise making no response of any kind. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all, which actually helped me keep going.

  When I got to the part about what happened after we’d completed the project with the kids, he closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. He drilled the heels of his hands against his eye sockets as if he hoped to blot out something he really didn't want to see, all the while muttered vicious ugly things I could barely hear over the muted noise coming from the dance floor a few levels down.

  In an abrupt motion, he stood up and pulled some bills from his wallet, tossing them down onto the table. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand. “Let's go where we can hear ourselves think.”

  I don’t want to think…

  I looked at what remained of my drink and tossed it back before following Cody. It took nearly twenty minutes to navigate the floors and the maze of twisting, bodies.

  At one point, he called over his shoulder, “If you want a drink, we can find someplace quieter.”

  “No.” I gave him a weak shrug. “I’ve kind of hit the point to where getting smashed has lost its appeal.”

  He nodded and we stepped out into the cool evening. I wrapped my arms around myself and looked at the glitter of the lights of the city as we began to walk.

  After a few moments, he broke the silence, his voice flat. “Explain this to me again. You woke up at Flynn’s place? How?”

  “I don’t remember much.” I shot him a look. We came to the intersection and I rested a hand on a street light while I rotated one ankle, then the other. Heels sucked for walking. As we started to cross, I told Cody what I did remember, wrapping it up with what Flynn had said at the party, how he insisted nothing had happened and how he'd been pissed that I could actually think something might have.

  “He was enough of an asshole to let you think something had. Shit, you’d had sex once and he’s been jonesing for more—” Cody caught sight of my face and he grimaced. “I know my brother, Gabs. I thought he was just wanting what he couldn’t have. But it’s more than that. He’s already been with you and now…” His voice trailed off. “There are times when guys like my brother make me ashamed of my own gender.”

  “Don't...” My voice trailed off because I didn't even know what to say. I wasn't really sure what I was feeling just then. “I was wasted,” I said. “I came on to him. I begged him to have sex with me.”

  “Exactly.” Cody crossed his arms over his chest as he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to look at me. “You were wasted. He was sober enough to think about getting you off the streets and taking care of you. Did it occur to him to call Edward? Me? Kendra? No. He took you home. Then, when you woke up, confused, instead of doing the right thing and explaining what had really happened from the get-go, he probably let your mind run wild and then he played the wounded one when you came to your own conclusion. Why would he make you think he’d touched you if he hadn’t? Only one reason—his asshole traits are showing through.”

  “I told you.” Shoving my hands through my hair I linked them behind my neck and let out a frustrated sigh. “He...”

  “Yeah.” Cody nodded. “I heard what his reasoning was. I love my brothers, but I know their flaws. Edward has a stick up his ass and Flynn probably needed to have his ass swatted a few times, or at least hear the word no once in a while instead of always being told he wasn't good enough. He takes disappointment and rejection like he’s still a kid. He still stuck in a high school phase where if something hurts his feelings, he thinks it’s okay to lash out and hurt somebody else. In this case it was you.”

  Turning away, I sat down on the closest bench. Bracing my elbows on my knees, I stared at Cody. I must have really looked lost, because Cody came over and sat down next to me, tugging me into a hug.

  “Don't tell Flynn,” I whispered. “Okay? I don't want him to know I talked to you. And don't tell Edward anything. Please. I don't want him to know.” I knew what I was asking of him, but I had to ask it. I couldn't lose Edward.

  He rested his cheek on the top of my head. “Don’t worry, Gabs. I won’t tell.”

  Ten

  Talking to Cody had helped some. It had taken a weight off my chest, and in a way, it had given me a weird sort of peace with the whole thing. Not that I was ready to go back to talking to Flynn or working with him again, but I was no longer looking in the mirror and cringing. Now I was just going to do what I should have done in the first place and stay away from Flynn.

  It had taken nearly a week, but I was more level than I had been in a while. Now if only Cody could come up with some magic words to help me deal with all the other shit I was dealing with.

  I’d spent two days job hunting, with no luck, and three days with Claire while she showed me china patterns and demanded I consider a string quartet over an actual band. I’d tried to offer a compromise, a string quartet for the wedding itself as we’d need music. The band for the reception.

  This isn’t some backyard Tennessee hoedown, Gabriella. People expect a certain level of class from the Bouvier family.

  I started having daydreams about showing up in white silk overalls with my hair swept in a bandana. Red, of course.

  Today, though, I was dodging calls. Kendra and I had the day already planned and I wasn’t going to let Claire ruin it. I needed an escape.

  Kendra and I were shopping for wedding dresses. We’d checked out several places and I’d looked at probably fifteen different dresses—in person. Online? Probably a hundred. Nothing seemed right, which was why I needed my best friend, even if she wasn't so sure she approved of my choices.

  My phone rang as we came up the stairs from the subway, both of us squinting into the bright light. I’d called for a cab, feeling a little guilty at the expense, but I had money in the bank. And I’d get another job. Soon. Once I was in the city, Kendra and I had met up and we were getting around via the subway. I almost felt like me again.

  Except…

  “Is that her again?” Kendra gave me a sidelong look as I checked the display.

  “Yep.” I shoved it back into my pocket as we eyed the shop in front of us. They specialized in formals and designer discount wedding gowns. Discount sounded good to me and I knew Claire would approve of the designer part.

  A rush of cool air greeted us and we stepped inside. Kendra was in a ball-cap and sunglasses, a look that totally wasn’t her, but I’d figured out why when we'd stopped for coffee. People were starting to recognize her, even when she tried to hide her face. She’d signed three autographs, which was both bizarre and cool.

  “Why don’t you just answer the phone and tell her to chill, you’ll pick out whatever tomorrow?”

  “Because she’ll guilt me into doing whatever she wants.” I gave her a grim look as we moved to the section where the wedding gowns were kept. “She's the queen of guilt.”

  “Chicken.” She said it without rancor so I just stuck my tongue out at her. She added. “So…divide and conquer?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  An hour later, we’d left that store and tried to conquer another one and we were failing miserably. This was our third store and so far, I’d seen only two that were even passable.

  I didn’t want passable for my wedding dress.

  I wanted the dress. The one. That one that my heart swell
and the one that would make Edward’s race.

  None of them were even close.

  “I'm never going to find it!” I scowled, dropping on to the elegantly padded chair as Kendra passed over the dress to the flustered looking attendant.

  “We’ll find you something.” Kendra studied another one the attendant had brought us and I watched as she put it immediately on the oh, hell no, rack. I trusted her judgement so I didn’t even look. She might not have been happy about my marriage, but she wasn't going to let me go down the aisle looking anything less than perfect.

  “Maybe I’m being too picky.” I started to lift my thumbnail to my mouth only to stop, staring at my hand in consternation. I’d broken that habit in high school. That woman was going to drive me back to biting my nails again. No. No way.

  “If a woman is ever expected to be picky about anything, it’s her wedding.” Kendra picked up another dress and then groaned, putting it down. Then she spun and faced me. “Do you trust me?”

  “Diana is a genius,” Kendra said as she opened the door and gestured me into a tiny little shop that look more like a hole in the wall than anything else. I had to admit if I'd been walking by here on my own, I wouldn't have even given it a second look. But as the door shut behind me, I found myself catching my breath.

  It was like the fairy godmother’s magic dress shop.

  Taffeta gleamed, faux diamond tiaras sparkled and sumptuous silks all but begged to be touched. My fingers started to itch and for the first time that day, I felt the hum of excitement burning inside.

  Maybe I needed to start looking beyond the surface of things.

  I heard a squeal from the back of the small shop and looked up to see a petite redhead rushing at us. Kendra moved forward with the same enthusiasm and the two of them hugged. It was an interesting sight because the redhead, Diana I assumed, didn't even reach the middle of Kendra's chest. She couldn't have been any taller than five feet while Kendra, in her heels, stood well over six.

  “We need a wedding dress.” Kendra made this announcement with the same easy casualness she did just about everything else in life.

  When Diana's eyes opened wide, Kendra shook her head, laughing. “No, not for me. Her.”

  The phone in my hip pocket started buzzing just as Diana beamed at me. I nodded as she offered her congratulations. Distracted, I pulled my phone out and grimaced at the sight of the name on the phone.

  I almost answered just so she would quit calling me, but I wasn't going to let Claire ruin my day. She hadn't said anything about needing to meet today and I wouldn’t let her run my life.

  I'd pay for it tomorrow, sure. But I’d deal with that then. Putting the phone on silent, I looked back at Diana and gave her a genuine smile. “Kendra tells me you're a genius.”

  Within a couple hours, we'd gone through different dresses, different styles, different materials. We were currently surrounded by a sea of tulle, taffeta, silk and lace. Some of the dresses were so lovely, they made my breath catch and my heart pound. But none of them were right. Not for me, at least.

  Kinda like my life, I thought glumly. I’d been so sure I’d find it here. There had been a few with promise. Maybe I just needed to relax a little and stop being so worked up.

  While I was brooding, Diana disappeared into the back of the shop and now she came into the large, open fitting area. There was a door behind me that opened into the private, closed-off room where brides could try on dresses in privacy, but this room was surrounded by mirrors so potential buyers could see all angles of a dress.

  All I saw were all angles of my disgruntled face and slumped shoulders.

  “How about this one?” Diana suggested.

  When I glanced up at her, I saw the sympathetic gleam in her eyes and part of me wanted to just storm out of her shop, but what good would that do? It wasn’t her fault that I felt like my life was as out of place as I was in this sea of beautiful perfection.

  Shoving to my feet from the padded stool where I’d been sitting, I looked at the dress she was holding. I was going to make the best of this. I was shopping for my wedding dress, right? Girls dreamed of this day.

  At first, I didn't think much of what I was seeing. Compared to everything else I'd seen, it looked plain. But as Diana came closer, I saw the material better and it seemed to glow in a way I’d never seen before. Lustrous and iridescent, it went from a soft white to a delicate pearl to the palest of peaches, all with the shifting of the light.

  Hesitant, I reached out and touched it, watching the soft rainbow of colors hidden in the material.

  “The colors are amazing,” I said softly.

  “Yes.” Diana stroked a hand down the delicate material. “Do you want to try it on?”

  I nodded. Disappearing into the changing room, I locked myself inside and held the dress up. From outside Kendra called, “Do you need some help?”

  “I'll let you know.”

  I didn't end up needing her help.

  For the first time since the day we had told Edward's parents we were getting married, something felt right. The dress. I couldn't decide if that was a good sign or a bad one.

  When I emerged, Kendra gasped. “Oh, Gabs. That's the one. Please tell me that's the one.”

  Not yet speaking, I moved to the mirror and stood there, studying the lovely, simple dress. An elegant column, it was nipped in at the waist with ruching that emphasized the curves of my breasts, waist and hips. Seed pearls were scattered all over the bodice and down the left side of the skirt.

  Beyond that and the way the dress’s color seemed to shift in the light, there was no decoration. It didn’t need it. It was beautiful in its simplicity.

  I could see me walking down the aisle wearing this stress. The purple, the plums, the oranges and golds that I had selected for my wedding colors, they’d all work together beautifully. I could almost even see the bouquet I would use.

  Yet over all of that was the enormous, over the top formal affair that Claire was making out of my wedding. My wedding. The formal dinner, the seating plans, the string quartet she was still insisting on, the dresses she demanded were proper for an event of this caliber…it was a wedding I had no desire for.

  Would the wedding suit this dress?

  I didn’t know.

  Would the wedding suit me?

  I didn’t know.

  But the dress suited me.

  It was the one thing that seemed to fit, and I wasn't going to let it go. Smoothing a hand down my hip, I smiled at my reflection and then glanced at Kendra in the mirror.

  “This is the one.”

  Eleven

  I understood cell phone addiction. I really did. I was pretty attached to my phone myself. Especially Twitter. I loved Twitter. I also loved some of the photography social media sites. I couldn’t take a picture worth anything, but I loved to look at other people’s work. It wasn’t a bad way to come up with ideas for writing.

  Now, I wasn’t all up with the business world and it was true that I wasn’t in charge of running a family business that was worth more money than I could imagine, but that didn’t mean my fiancé had to be attached to his phone and laptop non-stop.

  If Edward didn’t put his phone and computer aside, and soon, I was going to do something drastic.

  We were supposed to be addressing the invitations for the wedding and his eyes were glued to a screen. Worse, he was giving me monosyllable answers in response to my questions and had even said, “That sounds terrific” when I told him I planned to die my hair purple in keeping with our wedding theme.

  Sigh.

  I tried the subtle approach first. Taking one of the stacks in front of me, I put it over closer to him and offered another sheet of address labels. “Do you need more?”

  “No.” He smiled at me and held up a half-full sheet he’d been using for the past hour. “I’m good.”

  I relaxed a bit after he added a few to his pile although it was still decidedly smaller than mine. But five minutes
later, his phone chimed, signaling the receipt of an email hitting his inbox. He put down the labels and went back to dealing with whatever it was that had him so distracted.

  It was business, I assumed. I ignored the dark part of my brain that wanted to insist that it was someone else. Someone like Stacia Vanderbilt, the gorgeous white-blonde socialite who had the kind of breeding of which Edward’s mother, Claire Bouvier, approved. I reminded myself that Edward couldn’t stand Stacia and only put up with her because their families were old friends.

  I put up with it for another twenty minutes, but I was getting more and more frustrated. I loved Edward and I was going to marry him. He was absolutely gorgeous. He was also sweet, protective and an amazing lover. Not to mention he was rich and had the kind of athletic body that made me hot. The kind of man that any woman would consider herself lucky to have. And I did consider myself lucky. He was amazing for a million different reasons, but the fact that he couldn’t seem to think about our wedding for more than a few minutes was still pissing me off.

  When he paused to get up for a drink, I took the laptop and phone. He turned around just in time to see me carrying them over to the desk on the far side of the study.

  “Sweetheart,” Edward said, his tone patient. I could feel his eyes drilling into my back.

  “I asked you if you would be able to free up some time this evening so we could do this. Together.” My heart raced madly inside my chest as I turned to look at him. The look in his eyes was one of confusion and he glanced at the invitations, the wine we’d been sharing and then at me. With my hand braced on the edge, I swallowed the knot in my throat while a war waged inside me. I loved him, but I was feeling very much like I was taking second place.

  “But we are doing it together,” he said, still looking confused and taking a hesitant step toward me.

  “No.” Shaking my head, I stared at the middle of his chest instead of into his ice blue eyes. I got lost when I looked into them. “We’re not. Our wedding is coming up in just over two and a half months, Edward, but I’m handling everything alone. Well…I’m handling it with your mother and the wedding planner, and that’s a handful by itself. You won’t offer any input or help, no matter how many times I ask you what you think or what you’d like. I wanted to do this one thing with you and you’re working.”