“Jessica,” the woman cried out.
“It’s been awhile.” Jessica held out her hands and took her in for a hug.
“I’m here with a client of mine, the Evans’ wedding.”
“I know. It’s the event of the season, if not the year. I’m glad you came here for the dress,” she said to Jessica. “I can’t believe the dreamboat Daimon Evans is off the market. I heard that all of the society ladies are freaking out, especially Clara Stevens. She had a meltdown at her father’s company,” the woman said in a hushed voice, but loud enough for me to hear.
“Where did you hear that?” Jessica asked. She was intrigued and I…well, I was becoming irritated.
“Well, my boss overheard it from Clara’s mother, who was here with a friend of hers, whose daughter was getting a fitting done.”
“Don’t we have a dress to pick?” I asked, failing to keep the annoyance from my voice as I watched them interact.
“Yes, I’m sorry about that. Please accept my apologies. I shouldn’t have mentioned anything,” the older woman in black responded, bowing her head a little.
“No, you shouldn’t have,” I bit back, upset this moment was ruined by the mention of Clara.
“So Jessica tells me you like elegant and simple,” the woman tried to backtrack. “I have chosen a few dresses and have placed them in the dressing room, so if you would follow me, please,” the sales lady said, avoiding eye contact.
“Well, fuck me,” Elissa said as she took my hand and walked with me.
“You’re getting married within a week, which I have to say is usually an impossibility for us. I not only had to pull out dresses I thought you’d like, but I had to find ones that were in your size.”
“The price is inconsequential. You know Mr. Evans will pay top dollar if it means his girl gets what she wants,” Jessica reminded the sales lady.
“That I know.”
I tried on various A-line dresses, not one fitting the bill until I tried on the one that stopped me dead in my tracks. The one that once I looked at myself in the mirror, I knew it was made just for me. It was a Mark Zunino dress. The white of the dress wasn’t loud, but rather a simple off-white, in a deep sweetheart neckline emphasizing my breasts. It was a mermaid style dropped waist made of silk organza, and was absolutely stunning.
“At least it covers up your scar,” the assistant blundered, not realizing she had overstepped and ruined this moment yet again for me. I tried to push her comment and the image of my scar out of my mind, focusing on the dress itself. “I think we may have found the dress,” she said from behind me. I headed out to where both Elissa and Jessica were and stood up on the podium.
“Well?” I asked, biting my lower lip.
“Holy shit, girl, it’s you,” Elissa smiled, shaking her head in amazement, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide.
“Wow! That’s the one. That’s your dress, Addie,” Jessica said confidently as she stood up and walked over to me. “I think if we do a low bun and place a simple veil behind, it would be perfect. What do you think?” I turned to look in the mirror and was floored by how beautiful it was.
“I think I’m in love.” I smiled at myself.
“Good, that’s what I want to hear,” the sales lady said, helping me down. “We’re going to have to do the alterations now and get it downstairs to the seamstress.”
I guess money does make everything easier. All Jessica had to do was flash Daimon’s credit card and everything got done. The shoes, the veil and the alterations had been completed all that morning. It was flowers next.
Daimon was nowhere to be seen, which bothered me a little. Actually, it bothered me a lot. We were getting married yet I was planning everything on my own. Jessica had done everything for me to be more specific and all I had to do was pick and choose. Fucking Daimon, all he had to do was show up.
Each day made me more nervous than the next. Jessica was relentless with her constant calling and asking for detailed instructions, which by and large, she decided on her own. I was okay with that since I hardly knew what I was doing and I only had a week to do all this. I was overwrought with everything that was going on and was snapping at my poor father. I tried to call Daimon numerous times, but Lucifer never picked up. Every single time he didn’t, I lost it. The last time, I nearly threw my phone, just from sheer frustration. He was the only one I could talk to since this was only an act for both of us. With everyone else, I had to behave like I was excited and elated with everything.