I stop and stare at the plastic bag holding my wedding dress and remember what it looked like when I stared into the mirror as I tried it on. Since I won’t be wearing it in a few days for my wedding, I have the perfect idea of what I want to do today. It doesn’t include me going to the shop or even leaving this apartment. After a mad dash to the bathroom, I take a quick shower. With a hand towel, I wipe the fog from the mirror and stare at my reflection. I lay out all my brand new makeup that I purchased just for this particular occasion and start applying it. Foundation, powder, blush, a light smoke gray on the eyes, and finalize it all with the pink lipstick Natasha gave me. Happy with the results, I plug in the curling wand and then grab the dryer to blow out my hair. A handful of bobby pins are scattered across the vanity, and brushes are lying out all over the place.
I tuck up and twist the back, using the pins to hold the strands in place. With the curling wand, I twist the few strands I left down and leave them in a bouncy curl. My hair is sprayed, and all I need is the finishing touch of my veil. I decide to wait before I slide that on, as I might mess it up after I dress. Back in my bedroom, I slide all my undergarments out of the bag and set them down on the bed. I was so excited when I picked these out that I couldn’t wait for Simon to undress me. I sit on the edge of the bed and slide up the thigh-high stockings, and grab the garter belt that matches my bra. A pure white lace and satin, with just a touch of turquoise to trim it all together. The strapless bra is a little uncomfortable, as I generally never wear anything like this, but it’s a necessity for the dress. I mean, come on, you can’t have straps showing over your shoulder. Especially with this glamorous dress. Covered in the finest undergarments I have ever had spread across my body, I move toward my princess dress. One hand comes up and slides it off the hanger as the other holds it tight to not drop it to the floor. As I step into it, I think about how I’ll zip it up. This wasn’t factored into the fact that I would be doing this alone. I pictured having my mom and friends near me to zip the back of my dress. My arm stretches behind me and zips up the dress as far as I can reach. “This will have to do,” I say aloud and grab my veil. Standing in front of the full-length mirror on the back of my door I gently place it on top of my head. I have to adjust the top of my dress, as it keeps sliding down. I open my bedroom door.
I imagine that I’m walking out of my room for the first time and my friends are sitting around waiting to see what the bride looks like. A smile breaks out as I skirt across the floor toward the living room. Realizing that I just dressed myself in what would have been my wedding attire, I plop down to the sofa and let out a huge huff. “What are you doing, Morgan?” I ask myself. I know this is crazy. Why am I putting myself through this? I should’ve just moved the dress to the back of the closet and never laid eyes on it again. I just couldn’t help myself, so now I’m sitting here in my living room wearing my dress, and my feet are propped up on the coffee table. I forgot to put my heels on, and a laugh escapes me because I remember complaining that I had to wear them. Come on, I love my Chucks, flip flops, and flats. It’s bad enough that I can trip over my own feet, and they thought I could make it down the aisle in those super high heels. Joke’s on them, because I’m not going down one at all now.
Another quick pull of the top of my dress, and I stare down and admire how pretty it is. I know it would have knocked Simon off his socks seeing me walk toward him. It’s sad to know that he threw it all away and then thinks I can forgive him. Nope, not happening, I think as I play out the whole ceremony in my head. Just then I’m startled from my depressing thoughts when I hear my phone ringing from my bedroom. I jump up and run as fast as I can toward the noise, careful to not trip.
“Hello,” I say, out of breath.
“Umm …. Morgan …. I have a little problem,” I hear Zara say at the other end of the call.
“What do you mean a little problem? What’s wrong?”
“I might have caused a little issue in the kitchen, and we ran out of cupcakes … and well, you might need to come in.”
“Zara, what problem? I’m sliding my shoes on now,” I say as I slip my feet into my pink Chucks and search for my keys and jacket.
“Fire… burned them all … and pissed Hatcher off again. I tried to call Frankie to see if she could come help, but she didn’t answer. I’m sorry to bother you on your day off.”
“I’ll be there soon,” I say as I hang up and dash out the door.
I’m halfway to the bakery when I realize that people are staring at me as I run toward my business. I stop and take in what I’m wearing. Well, this will be exciting. I’ll have to explain why I’m in my wedding dress running across downtown Atlanta. I’m less than a few minutes away and can’t turn back now. Maybe Zara will be so distracted with the mess she’s created that she won’t notice what I’m wearing. That’s it… I’ll play it off and find my extra change of clothes in the office and make her think she’s losing her mind.
Right as I’m approaching the door, I notice Jayden across the park headed this way and I laugh out loud at how fate really stuck it to me today. The day of all days that I decide to drown my sorrows, all this happens. “Just great, Morgan. You need to have your head examined,” I say as I enter the shop.
Instantly the smell of burnt batter catches my senses and my nose crunches up at the smell. I turn back toward the door to prop it open and air the place out, and of course Jayden is headed this way. He is walking with the same girl from the park and an instant frown forms.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Zara yells from behind the counter.
“Clothes. Now explain how you tried to burn my place down,” I say marching toward her.
“Hatcher was baking and I was with the customers. He came out and seen me talking to that one guy that always comes in here, got jealous and threw a fit. We got into it and then forgot about the oven. That’s everything in the short form.”
I’m listening to her and not even paying attention to Jayden, who’s standing at the counter, until I turn around at the sound of him clearing his throat. If I didn’t know better, I would think his expression is pained as he sets eyes on me.
“Jayden,” I say with a nod.
“Morgan,” he responds, but his voice is different. It’s broken and mixed with I don’t know what.
“Zara, can you please help them? I have things to do.”
“Okay, well I’ll help in just a moment in the kitchen,” she says as I turn to walk into the disaster of a kitchen that I’m staring at. Behind me, I hear the girl with Jayden say congrats to me, but I don’t stop and turn around to respond. No reason for me to make a bigger fool of myself than I already have.
It’s amazing how men sneak into your life, make you smile, and then bang, reality sets in. Simon did it, and I guess so did Jayden. I thought he was flirting with me and available, but now I know that was just my mind putting me off from dealing with the current Simon issue. When I stop to think about it, I never asked Jayden and just assumed he was. That poor girl, I just hope he’s not doing to her what Simon has done to me.
“All right, did I miss the invitation for a dress up party today or are we having a pity party?” Frankie asks from behind me.
“How did you get here?”
“Zara left an urgent message, so I came straight over. I’m not sure which one was the emergency though, as I see two right now.”
I turn around and before I look up at her, I glance down at everything that’s covering my body. Pink Chucks, a wedding dress that’s halfway zipped, a veil, and my jean jacket. Yes, I might appear a little crazy, but it’s not an emergency; well, maybe it is. “Don’t start with me. I look okay. Now help me clean this mess up so I can go home.”
“Morgan, you might want to change before you start cleaning. I mean, that dress is like crazy expensive and … well, just go change. I can’t bear to see you like this.”
“Like what?” I twirl around in my dress and start laughing at how ridiculous I seem. Franki
e has her phone in her hands, texting as quick as she can, which only means that Natasha will be here any moment. I take this chance to dash out of the kitchen and head to my office. I refuse to let her witness me in this state. Maybe I went too far in dressing like it was my wedding day, but I wanted to play dress up. I wasn’t sad about it until I arrived here and saw Jayden. I need to hash this out and figure out why I’m more upset that he has a girlfriend than the affair Simon was having. Yes, this might be a problem; my chest hurts thinking of Jayden with someone else.
That night he showed up and watched me work, it was the most romantic thing that has happened to me in years. With that, I need to analyze my life and figure out where I want it to go. Find the path that will lead me to a happy old age. It might not be the fairy tale I pictured, but it will be my life. As long as I’m happy, and my friends are happy, that’s all we need.
Now to change out of this dress before I’m caught by anyone else. The last thing I need is for my mother, Simon, or anyone else for that matter, to see me like this.
Right when I round the counter, Natasha walks in. All I get is a shake of her head as she sits her briefcase down on the table and points at me to head to my office. Like a scolded child, my head hangs as I pick up the bottom of my dress and head to my desk.
Once inside I lock my office door for privacy and search for my change of clothes that I keep tucked in the bottom drawer. This is usually for when I spill something or need to change before I leave, not for “let’s hide the wedding dress you decided to play in today.”
AFTER I’VE CHANGED and taken a few moments to pull it all together, I brave the wrath of my friends. Enter stealth mode as I slink down the hallway, waiting for one of them to pop out of nowhere and kidnap me. I wouldn’t put it past Natasha to have the mental ward on speed dial at this point, but I’m not in heels, which means I can run pretty fast. I eyed her up and down in her lawyer business suit and heels, not a chance she’ll be able to catch me.
Right as I come around the corner, I notice they’re all gathered around the counter talking in hushed tones. I clear my throat and head in their direction.
“I see you still have the doors open to air the place out. Now do you want to let me know what happened?”
“Probably not, but yes, we even opened the back door to let the stink out,” Zara says, and I look at her because I know she’s not telling me the whole truth.
“Morgan, I think we might need to have an intervention or something. You haven’t spoken about the wedding since you called it off, and today you show up in your dress. We’re worried about you,” Natasha states, and Zara and Frankie are nodding their heads in agreement.
“See, here’s the thing… I … AM … FINE! I swear to you, I just wanted to see what I would’ve looked like in a few days.”
“Somehow I think you’re in denial, but we also know that over time, you’ll talk. Now give me the dress,” Frankie says.
“What? I’m not giving you my dress. Have you lost your mind?”
“No, but you sure as hell have. You probably scared half of Atlanta running here in that thing. We can’t take any more chances, plus it’s not healthy.”
“If you can find it, you can have it. I don’t need it anymore.” I stomp away from them and try to hide in the kitchen.
“Oh, no you don’t, Morgan. We aren’t done with you.”
“Yes, you all are,” I say as I pop my hand down on the metal countertop and watch as Zara comes forward some.
“Well, I have news and it might help you take your mind off everything.”
“What, did you have sex on my counter again?”
“Not today, no, but Hatcher and I are dating. Like actually dating, and he doesn’t like for me to flirt.”
“Has he met you? Does he know that you would flirt with a cupcake if you could?”
“Probably, but he needs to tone it down. How do you think I sell so many sweets? I flirt and they buy them.”
“I’m not touching that one. What do you two say?” I ask as I gaze between Natasha and Frankie. In return, all they do is shake their heads no.
“Chicken shits,” I say to both of them. I know they won’t say anything, so I will. “Zara, you’d flirt with a tree. So yes, I don’t blame him for being that way. You need to tone it down and try to make this work. Hatcher is a nice guy and I’ve only seen him date a few other people. He must like you.”
And just as I finish that last sentence, Frankie busts out laughing and says, “Like isn’t the word I would use. It’s more like he loves her.”
“What…?” I question.
Zara stares down at her fingers that she’s twisting, and then back up to me. “That was the fight. He came in and brought me my favorite coffee from that shop I love and snuck up behind me and whispered he loved me in my ear. I might have freaked a little.”
My eyes are literally bugging out of my head as Frankie and Natasha are laughing at the situation. “He did. Well, what did you say?”
“I couldn’t say anything. I mean, I’ve never told anyone other than you guys and my parents that I love them. He threw me off, and now my whole aura is messed up.”
“What is that thing you do again where you throw incense and cook pig toes? You need to do that,” Frankie says.
“That’s not what I do and you know it. Seriously, other than Morgan walking around town in her wedding gown, I have a problem.”
This causes us all to laugh at Zara, as we know this isn’t what she does, but we love to mess with her. One time she took us to some meditation class with her. When we walked in, all of us but Zara couldn’t breathe. Incense was burning all over the place, the gentle sounds of animals making some crazy noise around us was playing, and then carpets were spaced out on the floor. There we were, dressed like we were going to a yoga class, and Zara in one of her long skirts, a tank, and sandals. Needless to say, we appeared out of place. Ever since then, we joke about her being in a cult. Of course, Zara brushes it off, but deep down I think she would like us to accept her love to be free-spirted and one with ourselves. Guess I’m just not to that point. I mean, after all these years I haven’t jumped on that bandwagon and it’s not in the future forecast.
“I think you do love him or at least really like him. Why else would you put him through all the crap you do?” I say, offering my little piece of advice.
“All right, ladies, I need to run. I’ve got to stop by that awful body shop before I meet with a client this afternoon,” Natasha says in a huff.
“You still don’t have your car back?” I ask.
“No, and if you saw this place, you would freak out. The owner’s name is Diesel and he’s scary and I think holding my car hostage. He just doesn’t realize I can draw up lawsuit papers faster than he blinks. I’ll have my car back soon, or it can go to another shop.”
“Okay … Keep us posted, I think,” I say while looking over at Frankie with suspicion written all over my face. We both take another stare at Natasha. She’s a little flushed and twitching. Last time she did this was after we all first met and she had an enormous crush on this guy in her law firm. This will be noted to look into, because she won’t be spilling the beans anytime soon. I know her, she puts on this massive front to keep them all away from her. It’s weird as I stand here listening to them banter back and forth, and I realize that each of us has our own problems. Deep down we want love, we want the magic that we were brought up to expect. But in reality, as we are all approaching the big thirty, we don’t have it. Are we too focused on our careers and friendship, locking our hearts away, that we can’t see the guy right in front of us? I don’t know if I have the answers for myself, much less my friends. One day I think we will all sit back and laugh at how we were all single and waiting for our prince to come in and swoop us up. There was a time I thought Simon was that prince. Now, all I know is I’m standing here in my bakery with a garter belt, stockings, and a fabulous strapless bra on under my jeans and shirt. Maybe I should start w
earing this more often. I have a little more pep in my step with the satin against my skin.
“What kind of bra do you guys have on?” I ask, and they all turn to look at me.
“Normal every day one, why?” Frankie asks, and I turn to Natasha and Zara.
“A silk push-up from Victoria Secrets,” Natasha says as she looks down her blouse.
“Jersey material, beige. Nothing special,” Zara says as she’s trying to figure out why I’m asking this.
“Okay, listen to my theory. Underneath all this I have my wedding undergarments on, and I mean I have it all on—garter belt and all. I feel empowered, like I can rule the universe. Let’s go shopping and update our attire, you know, all satin and silk. Hell, let’s start wearing pearls again.”
“Did you fall as you were running here today?” Frankie asks.
“No, I’m serious. Look, I’m in this ugly attire that I wear every day of my life, but underneath I feel like a movie start. The material feels so good, and I think we should bring some class back. Why do we believe that we can only wear the finer things when we are dating or getting married? Let’s do it now,” I say as I raise my hand up in a fist to invoke some girl power.
“Maybe Morgan is onto something. I mean, look at how radiating her face is, or is that because you have makeup on? Are you going to do that every day?” Frankie asks pointing to my face.
“Maybe. Why not? Why should I come to work plain and dull? I mean, I know I’m cute, but I should feel that way.”
Zara shakes her head no before she opens her mouth. “I’m not sure I like this idea. Pearls? Really? I don’t even own a pair, and the only makeup I have is what you guys forced me to buy for the wedding.”
Frosted Sweets (A Taste of Love Series Book 1) Page 7