by Sarah Peis
We all followed suit, except Dad, who was apparently driving.
I finally spotted Stella, who looked a little worse for wear, her hair a mess and her cheeks flushed.
“Mom, Dad, I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner,” I said and kissed their cheeks. “I have to go talk to Stella and Willa.”
“Of course, darling. We’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget it’s your turn to bring the salad.”
“I won’t. Might just be a little late because I have a few things to sort out at the shop.” I waved at them, and they continued to talk to Landon.
I finally made it to Stella and threw my arms around her, clocking Mason, who was standing next to her, on the jaw. “Estrella, you’re back,” I called, my voice loud in my ears. “Oops, sorry, Mason.”
“Looks like you’re having fun,” she said and chuckled when I rained kisses on her cheek. I loved my friends. They were the best.
Willa was suddenly next to her—or maybe she had been there all along? Who knew at this stage? I was just glad I wasn’t seeing double yet and grinned big.
“I’m having a brilliant time. This is so much fun. Willa, your wedding is magical. Maybe if I rub your belly, some of your magic will rub off on me.” I turned to her and started rubbing her belly. She promptly stuck it out farther.
“Rub away. I’m feeling generous since it’s my wedding.”
Her eyes went soft on the last word, and the permanent smile on her face seemed to grow bigger. I wouldn’t be surprised if she broke out in a song and birds starred as her background singers.
But instead of a magical musical scene, she shouted, “Time to dance, girlies,” and took our hands.
“Stella, Maisie, you’re with me.” She dragged us onto the dance floor while Jameson went up to the DJ and “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls came on. He already played the part of doting husband well. I was impressed.
Willa turned to us. “Okay, it’s showtime. We’re doing ‘the dance.’”
I groaned long and loudly to make my displeasure known. I swore I would never do “the dance” again. Ever. And I’d meant it when I made that drunken declaration after our last performance. Let’s just say we weren’t allowed to come back to the one and only strip club in town. Guess they didn’t like it when girls danced on stage without taking their clothes off. Who would have thought?
“That’s the most embarrassing thing you could have asked us to do,” Stella said.
“It’s my wedding, and I dance how I want to. If I want you to do the chicken dance, then you’ll do the chicken dance,” Willa declared and strutted to the middle of the dance floor, knowing without a doubt we would follow.
“She’s got a point. And at least she isn’t making us do the chicken dance,” I said, then joined her.
“Not yet,” Stella whispered loudly and followed, because there wasn’t anything either of us wouldn’t do for Willa, who started doing what could be called a tap dance if you felt generous. Otherwise, it would just be called hopping from foot to foot. But she was right—this was her wedding, and everyone better clap at the end of our performance. Stella and I would make sure of it.
Once Willa finished her intro, we started the routine we had practiced more times than I cared to remember. And even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to remember every practice session because we were drunk for half of them. We clearly spent our time at college wisely.
There was a lot of booty shaking, dropping to the floor, and twirling. We were taking the advice to slam our bodies to the ground and twirl it all around seriously. I was so out of shape I wasn’t sure if I could make it to the end, but just as I thought I might have to pass out from lack of oxygen, we were approaching the last “zigazig.”
That also meant I was supposed to moonwalk to the middle of the dance floor. And my moonwalk was seriously lacking when I was wearing heels. We somehow met up again, something I would purely chalk up to luck, because Willa and I were swaying on our heels unsteadily, and Stella was laughing so much she missed half the steps.
The grand finale was coming up, and Stella and I positioned ourselves on each side of Willa. This part was one that Willa insisted on every damn time. No matter how much we refused to do it or pleaded with her to find another final pose, she never let us change it. So I once again found myself holding on to one of her legs while she was doing a handstand. I held my other hand out to the side, and Stella mirrored my pose on Willa’s other side.
Willa’s dress was not made for handstands and she was immediately covered in a mountain of fabric and tulle. She flashed everyone her bright pink boy shorts that said “Slap This” on the butt. We lowered her back to the ground, careful not to suffocate her in all the fabric trying to strangle her.
Once Willa was upright and safe again, I stumbled off the dance floor, desperate for a drink so I could forget this humiliation ever happened. Landon once again proved to be a great friend and was already waiting with a full champagne glass. His date was standing next to him. She glared at me when I came closer, but I didn’t even have the energy to go into bitch mode.
“Dumplin’, you looked radiant out there,” Landon said, barely suppressing the laughter while he handed me my drink.
I clinked my glass to his water bottle and shimmied my butt—at least in my head, I did. Judging by the way his face scrunched up, he was trying hard not to laugh.
“I know. And don’t you ever say any different.”
We stuck together for the rest of the night, trying to come up with more useless facts. This time there wasn’t anything at stake, unless you counted my pride. Because it made me invent a lot of facts. I think Landon just didn’t want to correct me anymore, so he let me talk shit to my heart’s content. It was great. And I loved making up ridiculous things. Like the reason giraffes walked funny was because they had five joints in their legs. Totally bullshit, but who cared at this stage anyway.
The best part about sticking with Landon was the entertainment though. Not only was he an endless fountain of facts, but he also had girl problems. He told his date to go home because he was done with her—harsh words, but apparently there was some history there that I didn’t know about and didn’t ask—and she poured her drink on him. It was glorious. He didn’t even react, just got out a handkerchief and wiped his face. Pure class. The lack of reaction made his date—or ex-date—even madder, and she stormed off, running into the poor waitress and upending all the drinks on her tray.
My alcohol-soaked brain loved the drama. It was great. What a wedding.
Stella joined us not long after Landon’s date left in a huff.
“Cream puff, you look radiant. Love the new look,” Landon greeted Stella. He pulled her into his side. “You look good, all happy and satisfied.”
She elbowed him and untangled herself from his embrace. “And you look so much better without the peroxide blonde on your arm.”
“She was easy, and that’s just how I like them,” he said and winked. “But I came to my senses when she tried hitting on Mason again. Sent her home. You proud of me?”
“So proud,” Stella said and turned to me. “I’m out of here. You need me to get you a lift before I head inside?”
“All good. Landon offered to drive me home,” I said, pointing at the man in question.
Stella narrowed her eyes at him, and I knew she was ready for a speech on drink driving when he held up a bottle of water. “I’ve only had one beer and a shot, then water since.”
Satisfied he would get me home safe, Stella hugged me tight. “You still owe me an explanation. Call me tomorrow?”
I squeezed her back and relented. “I will. Promise.”
We separated, and Landon swooped Stella up and twirled her around. “See you later, sparkles. Enjoy your night. Glad you guys made up. The garage was becoming a dark and gloomy place,” Landon said, pointing between Mason and Stella. I definitely had some catching up to do with my friends, because last time I saw them, they were still hurling insults at each other.
Stella laughed and walked to where Mason and his mom were standing.
“You wanna blow this popsicle stand, my little bunny?” Landon asked and put his arm around me.
I guess I had enough to drink, and the champagne was sloshing around my stomach uncomfortably. “Sounds good. But can we stop for pizza?”
“You got it.”
“There is no such thing as one true love,” I said and wiped my store window, frowning at the streaked glass.
Stella choked on air and came up behind me. “You do realize that two of your best friends have found the loves of their lives and that there is a certain someone who thinks you’re his one and only?”
Just because she thought she was in love with Mason didn’t mean it proved the existence of it. I waved her off and studied the cloth in my hand, wondering if they used special spray to get the windows streak free. Because my windows had streaks. And handprints from when I lost my balance and had to hold on to something.
“Oliver is engaged,” I said, deciding to get it over with.
“Excuse me, what?” Stella shouted.
“Yup. First my fiancé cheated on me with not one but two women. I then slept with my brother’s best friend, who just wanted to have a good time and had zero feelings for me. Now my brother won’t speak to me anymore. And I’m in love with a man who is engaged to someone else. That makes me the other woman. Something I swore I would never be. How does this give you the idea of an epic love story? This is more like another epic failure. And proof that true love doesn’t exist.”
Shit, I really was bad at relationships.
Stella took the cloth and window cleaner out of my hands and put them on the ground. Then she turned me around to face her.
“Honey, none of this is your fault. You know that, right? This isn’t on you. It’s on the assholes who treat you like shit. Now tell me where Oliver lives so I can beat him up.”
She let me go so she could crack her knuckles and jump from side to side in an effort to warm up.
“That’s a nice offer, but I’ll have to decline. You have enough to worry about without adding my shitstorm to your existing pile of crap,” I said.
It was Wednesday, the day of my soft opening, and thirty minutes before I would unlock the doors to my store.
All the dresses and accessories were in place, the window was half clean, the payment system was online and working, and Chloe, one of my shop assistants, was already here. She was a new transplant from Denver, and I had a feeling she would fit right in with her dry wit and sarcasm.
It also helped that her style was unique, and she loved wearing dresses. I didn’t make my employees wear the stuff from my shop, but the button-down, skintight metallic blue dress she was wearing could have been one of mine. It didn’t hurt that it fit her curvy body like a glove and made her hazel eyes pop.
I hadn’t heard from Oliver since he came to the shop. That should have been good news, but it didn’t feel like it. Because the truth was my stupid heart missed him. So far I hadn’t done anything too crazy, like drive past his house. I wasn’t quite there yet. But it was only a matter of days before I’d start my stalkerish ways and drive all around Humptulips just to catch a glimpse of him.
Maybe I should lock myself in at my parents’ earlier than planned.
“Did you get enough signatures to be able to call a special town meeting?” Stella asked. She knew me well enough to know when I was done talking about something and should change the topic.
“We did,” I said and smiled at the thought. We got double the required number of signatures, and at least half of those people promised to come to the meeting. I was feeling positive and thinking we might even have a chance at stopping the mall from getting built, which would save our shops. “The meeting is this Friday.”
She helped me out of the window. “That’s awesome. I knew you could do it. I better not show up though. I’m not on good terms with Mom at the moment. If she saw me, she’d push the mall through just to spite me.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. You’re doing the right thing by cutting ties with her.”
Her mom was the mayor and a bitch from hell. Stella had finally had enough and moved out, cutting all ties to her controlling family. I was proud of her. She came from a lot of money and was used to a certain lifestyle, but she gave it all away to gain her independence and get away from the hell that was her daily life. That took balls.
“But if there is anything I can do to help, let me know. I could make signs. Or write a speech. Or make coffee,” she offered.
I hugged her and retrieved my window cleaner and cloth from the floor. “Don’t worry about us. Honestly, I think once they see how many people are against the mall, they’ll give in. Even if the mayor wants to push this through, she can’t go against everyone.”
I might have sounded confident, but in reality I was pissing my undies. Because I was terrible at public speaking. Especially in front of people I knew couldn’t stand me. Like the mayor. But I was willing to get over myself and plead our case if it meant my shop wouldn’t fail before I ever really got it off the ground.
“Where do you want the sign?” Chloe asked, holding up the wooden vintage sign that was delivered yesterday. It said Darling Designs, and even though I had a sign outside the shop already, this one I had made for inside. It fit the style of the pharmacy and worked well with the high ceilings and fairy lights.
“I think it would look great hanging off the ceiling just above the register.”
It had two metal chains, so it would be no problem to hang it up. I had a ladder and a drill. Now if one of us knew how to fasten screws to the ceiling, we could hang it up.
“Any ideas how to get the thing up there?” Stella asked, standing next to Chloe, who was looking at the spot I pointed to.
We continued to stare at the ceiling, none of us coming up with a solution. It was safe to say the sign wasn’t going up today.
“I’ll get my dad to hang it up tonight. He’ll be here for the opening anyway. He won’t mind staying behind.”
Stella nodded. “Good idea. Now let’s get this party started.”
The bell chimed, and Willa walked inside, Jameson close behind. “Sorry I’m late. I had every intention of helping this morning, but my alarm didn’t ring, and then when I finally woke up, it was late. I suck. And I’m sorry. And did I mention I brought Jameson along, who will be our muscle? And brain if we need to. He’s not just pretty to look at.”
Jameson draped his arm across Willa’s shoulders and kissed her head. “Just let me know what you need me to do. It’s my fault that the alarm was off.”
I knew I wouldn’t tell him off for it. And by the look on Stella’s and Chloe’s faces, they weren’t going to either. But he came in at the right time.
“Do you know how to use a drill?” I asked.
“I own a garage,” he said, smirking.
“Right,” I said and pointed to the sign. “This needs to go up there,” I continued, pointing to the ceiling. “Any chance you could hang it up before the shop opens in about ten minutes?”
He walked to the other end of the store, where the ladder was still leaning against the wall, and nodded. “No problem. I’ll hold it up, and you tell me if it’s in the right spot.”
It took him five minutes to get the sign up. Guess things like a boyfriend came in handy sometimes.
As soon as I cleaned up the dust on the floor, I flipped the sign to Open and prayed I would have customers. But twenty minutes passed and not a single person walked in. I was pacing up and down in front of the counter, clutching my hands together, hoping this wasn’t the beginning of the end. I might not need a fancy mall to crash-land my business after all—I could do it all on my own.
I had focused my advertising efforts on the big opening on Saturday, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t mentioned that I would be open from Wednesday the week before. Not that I had much experience in opening a shop, but surely I had to
have at least one customer.
Finally, the bell rang, and someone walked inside. I tried hard not to pounce on them and instead called out a greeting. “Welcome to Darling Designs. Please let me know if you need a hand with anything.”
I got a smile and nod in return. The rest of the morning went better, and people came in and out of the shop at a steady rate. I was happy with the turnout, my earlier freak-out forgotten. I sold quite a few things, mainly down to Chloe’s ability to sell an old button if she had to.
“I’m getting lunch from Rayna’s. She said it’s on her since it’s opening day,” Willa announced.
“Is she going to come over?” I asked, hoping she would. I had the perfect dress for her and couldn’t wait to show her the fifties vintage style I had in mind.
“Of course. She’ll drop in as soon as she closes the bakery at three.”
“Don’t forget to grab one of those lemony thingies,” I said.
“Of course not. And I’ll grab some brownies. And maybe a cake. We need to celebrate,” she said and disappeared with Jameson. Hopefully those two would make it back today. Wasn’t always a given they’d come back. Jameson easily distracted Willa—all he had to do was look at her—and he was just as easily led astray.
They made it back over an hour later, and by the state of Willa’s hair, I knew they didn’t just go down to the bakery. She was also wearing a different outfit.
“Sorry it took so long,” she said, not offering an explanation. Not that we needed one.
I reached out in a give-me gesture. “I’m starving. Tell me you picked this up after your little detour and it’s not cold yet.”
She blushed and handed me a sandwich. “Only picked it up ten minutes ago. Everything should still be hot.”
Chloe offered to man the front of the store while we all squeezed into my small office to eat. True to her word, Willa not only brought cake but also the lemony thingies I liked. And Rayna said everything was on the house for us today, so Willa also grabbed half the store’s inventory. There were bags everywhere. Now, I liked to eat, but I wasn’t sure how we could ever finish everything.