The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,95

begun inspecting the seams on the dress, jerked her head up in surprise but refrained from comment.

“Why did you buy the dress if you hate it so much?” Josh asked.

“First of all, I don’t really hate the dress. It’s beautiful. It’s just not what I wanted. And I didn’t order it. My mother did.” She took a deep breath to keep from tearing up, but her voice still broke as she continued, “Apparently the dress I chose—the dress I love—didn’t fit in with her princess theme, so she ordered this one.”

“You’re kidding?”

“I wish I was.”

“That’s just not right.”

She lifted one shoulder into a half-shrug, trying to convince herself it didn’t matter, even though it still hurt. “It is what it is.”

“Which one did you pick?”

Megan’s head jerked up in surprise. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“It matters to me. Which one did you pick? I want to see it.”

A warmth spread through her chest, and she resisted the urge to hug him. “I don’t even know if they have it anymore.”

“We do,” the sales woman said, standing upright.

“How do you know about it?” Megan asked, looking over her shoulder at her. “I don’t remember you being here when I tried on dresses last fall.”

“I wasn’t. But I took the call when your mother changed the order. It was too late to cancel the first dress, but your mother pitched such a fit the manager let her order the new one, taking the loss and hoping we’d sell the original. I’ve never heard of a bride’s mother canceling a bride’s dress behind her back like that. It was the talk of the store for weeks. We would have called you if any of us knew how to reach you.”

“You still have it?” Megan asked.

The woman nodded.

“Can she try it on?” Josh asked.

“Sure . . .” the woman said. “But you can’t trade it. This dress has already been altered to fit you. No refunds.”

“That’s okay,” Josh said. “I still want to see it on her.”

“This one looks beautiful,” the woman said, fluffing the skirt, then stepping off the stage. “But I’ll pull the other one if you want to see it.”

“Thanks,” Josh said, offering his hand to Megan.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked as she stepped down next to him.

“Don’t you want to try it on again?”

Did she? “I don’t see the point.”

She loved the dress, yes, but this whole charade had gotten out of hand. Her mother had spent the equivalent of a year’s salary on the wedding, and for what? Wasn’t a wedding supposed to be the commitment of two people who not only loved each other but genuinely liked each other enough to promise a lifetime commitment? This wedding would be no less of a farce if Jay were here with her now. She had thought she loved Jay, but now she wasn’t sure she’d even liked him. She was embarrassed to admit it to herself, but there it was. The truth. Finding Jay nailing his secretary on his desk was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

But if she were teasing the truth out of this screwed-up mess, she also knew that the dress she’d chosen meant something to her. It had been her symbol that she would get married someday and have a different marriage than her parents did. She’d almost screwed up with Jay, but she was realizing what was important. And the man in front of her ranked very high on that list, even after only knowing him a few days.

He gave her a coaxing smile. “Indulge me.”

She returned to the fitting room and waited for the woman to come back and help her change. The dress she’d chosen was lighter, and rather than the crinoline skirt of the Cinderella dress, its skirt was made of swathes of silk with scattered gatherings around the skirt and a small train. The bodice was like a wrap dress, with a V-neck that showed off her chest without revealing too much cleavage. The first dress had been strapless, but this one had short, silk, off-the-shoulder sleeves.

“This dress does suit you better,” the saleswoman said as she zipped up the back. “You need a different veil. I don’t think the tiara your mother picked would work. Wait a moment. I have one in mind.”

She was back within seconds, holding a comb with an attached veil, which she carefully arranged on top of Megan’s head. “That’s much better,” the woman said, but there was regret in her voice.