“Okay, everybody,” my best friend and maid of honor, Lady, said to the crowd, none of whom she’d ever met until just a couple days ago, “let’s toast our beautiful Alessia, star winner of The Mating Game and soon-to-be wife of the handsome, successful, and rich Montgomery Langton—”
“Wait,” a tall, thin blonde interrupted.
Vanessa.
She’d been on the show with me, and while Mont the bachelor had chosen me over her in the final episode, she’d been gracious. Amazingly gracious. Strangely gracious. I’d thought for sure he’d pick her. They even looked good together.
But he chose me.
And I was okay with that. Actually more than okay. I figured I’d learn to love him. He was a good catch.
“We have some special champers just for this toast.” She hustled as fast as her pink ruffles and four-inch heels would allow, over to a sweaty ice bucket, and returned with two bottles of what qualified as the ‘good stuff.’
She gestured toward the bottle Lady held in her hands. “We can’t toast this gorgeous bride with that crap.”
Lady rolled her eyes, and I gave her my discrete ‘I’m with ya, sister’ half-smile. I planned to blow off these bitches—the bridesmaids I had not chosen—the moment the wedding was over. T minus forty-five minutes.
Except, of course, Lady.
“Mmmm. I just love Dom,” she purred, smacking her lips after everyone had gotten a small pour. “Don’t you, Alessia? I mean, I’m sure you and Mont have it all the time.”
I didn’t even know what Dom was. But I wasn’t telling her that.
“Totally, Vanessa,” I said, lying through my expensive, veneered smile.
“Ugh. Would someone answer that ringing cell?” another beauty from across the room whined.
“That is getting annoying,” I said. “Whose phone is it?”
My question kicked off a flurry of activity, and the bridesmaids ran to search among the pile of purses on the bed.
“Here it is,” one of them cried.
She ran over and handed me my crystal-encrusted Judith Lieber minaudiere, a kitschy replica of a tiny wedding bouquet.
Apparently, the stylist had thought carrying a real bouquet was not sufficient and that my purse needed to look like one, too.
“Better answer it quick. What if Mont’s backing out?”
The room erupted in peals of laughter.
I sent the call to voicemail, but as soon as I did, it rang again. So, I turned off the ringer and threw it back in my bag. Then, the damn thing started to vibrate against the walls of my purse, making more noise than if it were actually ringing out loud.
For Christ’s sake. I was supposed to walk down the aisle momentarily. Who could be calling? Wasn’t everyone I knew already in the church, or at least, on their way?
I scooted over to the corner of the bride’s waiting room for privacy and swiped my phone open.
“LeeLee?” I asked when I saw the name on the phone’s screen.
“Ohthankgod, Alessia. So glad you finally answered.”
I took a long, slow breath. The bustier must have succeeded in compressing my ribs, because I was actually, sort of, getting used to it.
“LeeLee, I’m about to get married. So, it’s not the best time to be calling me, you know what I mean?”
“Okay. Okay. I tell ya what. I can’t make it to the wedding—”
She was telling me this now?
“—but I’m out front with your wedding gift. Can you come outside real quick?”
