Twenty-two more days.
It might actually kill me.
Hannah
“Howdoyouknowall this gossip?” I asked Teresa as she twisted more hair around her curling iron.
“Girl, women tell their stylistseverything. We're better than therapists," she said. "So anyway, Kate called off the wedding, but didn’t want to lose all her deposits, so she just,” Teresa released her free hand from the curling iron to make a handoff gesture, “gave her entire wedding to Grace, which is how they booked it on such short notice. Including this morning's salon package.”
“So smart,” I said, watching in the mirror as she pinned the curl to my head in an intricate design well above my mechanical skill.
“But since she’s a bridesmaid… she now has to walk down the aisle of the wedding she called off. Can you imagine?”
“What a nightmare,” I murmured as a shudder went down my spine, relief that Sebastian and I never got close enough to get engaged. “Is she going alone?”
“That’s the best part,” Teresa said, picking up the hairspray and covering me in a thin layer of aerosol. “Technically she’sgoing solo, but she got dropped off by the groom’s brother. And you won’t believe who that is.” Teresa paused for dramatic effect, picking up the mascara as her own eyes went comically wide. “Dominic Martin.”
“The actor?” I shrieked. “FromThe Twelve?”
“Yes!” Teresa yelled, bending to apply one more layer of eye makeup. “And you, lucky bitch, are going to this wedding and get to see it all play out firsthand. You have to tell meeverythingwhen you get home. Or…” she smirked, “Sometime tomorrow, because you’re spending the night with Captain Three-Piece.”
“I’m just his plus-one,” I muttered.
“Right, of course.” Teresa raised her brow. “But I know you can’t keep your hands off a man in a suit, and after he sees you looking like this? There’s no way he can keep that stick up his ass. Either way, I’m staying at Eddie’s tonight to give you the place. Now get dressed already,” Teresa said, looking at the dresses laying across my bed. “You’re spiraling.”
“I’m not spiraling. I’m… selecting.”
“You’ve tried on four dresses.”
“Three.”
“Four, I can see the blue one behind you on the bed. Wear the green one, we Irish broads look great in green.”
I picked up the dress—Emerald green with a neckline that walked the line between elegant and suggestive. The kind of dress that saidI’m fine, everything’s fine, I definitely didn’t drunk dial you three weeks ago and tell you I think about you constantly.
I hadn’t talked to Connor since my birthday, when I’d called him at midnight, too many drinks in, and said… god, I didn’t even remember everything I’d said. Something about missing him, wishing things were different. I woke up the next morning with the battery dead in my phone and my vibrator.
He’d texted. He didn’t mention the drunk dial—he was too considerate for that. Just casual check-ins.
Still on for the wedding?
Ceremony’s at four, pick you up at three?
I’d kept my responses brief.Yeah, see you then.
Because what else could I say?Actually, I meant every word of that drunk ramble… or the words I remember, anyway.
No. Better to get through the weekend, then let him go back to his life in New York.
I zipped the dress, checked my reflection. The green brought out the hazel in my eyes, and I looked like someone who had her life together.
In other words, I looked like a liar.
The knock came at 2:58 PM, because of course Connor would early. Teresa beat me to the door, and I heard his voice from the bathroom, the sound of his rolling suitcase. “Hi, Teresa. I wasn’t sure—”
“She’s finishing up. Want coffee?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
