Keeping Secrets in Seattle - By Brooke Moss Page 0,36
with her bridesmaids. She wants you to try on the dress she picked out. I told her that you really dig animal prints and plaids, but no go. I imagine she’ll be putting you in something very proper. Sorry about that.”
“Nice try.” I snickered. “I’ve already seen a picture of the dress. No plaid in sight.”
Trying on dresses in front of the girls I’d met at brunch sounded like about as much fun as getting a root canal without pain meds. I suddenly had the urge to step outside my apartment and walk in front of a bus, just so that I had a relevant excuse not to go. Which reminded me, the dress was going to be a gigantic expense I’d forgotten to plan for. I groaned loudly.
“I don’t want to,” I whined.
“Come on. For me?”
“Okay, fine. But you owe me.” I dragged a hand down my face. “Brunch with those girls was…well, let’s just say I was like a lamb led to slaughter.”
“Alicia means well. She really does,” Gabe said. “Just go to the dress shop on Coupler Boulevard, Saturday morning at ten. Give Alicia a chance. She will grow on you.”
I made a gagging sound. “She’ll ‘grow on me’? Now you’re comparing your fiancée to a fungus? Nice. No comment.”
Gabe laughed again. “Okay. I’ll tell her you’re coming. And Vi?”
“Hmm?”
“I really don’t want you to move. I would miss you so much.”
This was the point at which I wanted to climb underneath the blankets on my bed and scream. “I would miss you, too, Gabe.”
“’Night.” His velvety voice made my middle tighten.
“Good night.”
After closing my phone, I set it on the side table and squealed into my pillow. There was nothing better than talking with Gabe right before bed. My day was complete. Just as my eyes started to droop, I heard my phone buzzing again. Another message.
“Gabe, you dork.” I giggled and opened the phone.
It was an e-mail from Landon.
“Whoops,” I said. “Forgot all about you.”
Hey, beautiful…thanks for the wonderful night. Can’t wait to go to Victoria with you. But I need to see you much sooner than that. How’s Saturday looking for you? Love you…
--Landon
Landon was the one I was supposed to be thinking about while I fell asleep. He wanted to spend Saturday with me, but Gabe needed a haircut. And I wanted to try to get the rest of my secret out. Quite the conundrum. I needed to be a good, loyal girlfriend and spend the day with Landon…but I missed hanging out with my best friend.
I shook my head and pulled my quilt up over my face. I would figure it out in the morning.
…
There was something about being around Alicia’s bridesmaids that made me feel like I was back in junior high school. All that was missing was the acne and training bras.
I spent the night before the dress fitting choosing my outfit carefully. I settled on a black-and-white plaid button-down shirt that would be easier to slip in and out of in the fitting room, and a full red skirt that matched the oversized tomato-red birdcage bow I pinned on top of my platinum waves. To top off my look, I put on a wide patent-leather belt and black kitten heels. Compared to my usual clothes, I looked demure.
The boutique Alicia picked was among the most posh in the wealthy area of Bellevue. It was known for carrying wedding gowns by some of the most sought-after dress designers and carried couture gowns worth tens of thousands of dollars. As I scurried from the bus stop to the boutique door, late again, I checked my bank account balance on my BlackBerry. I needed to have enough to, at the very least, put money down on whatever dress I would be purchasing. After that, it would be up to me to ask Lizzie for some extra hours in the salon and hock most of my belongings, in order to pay it off. Oh, well…I didn’t need to pay the electric bill before May, right?
Nodding to the salesgirls standing at the register, I walked past the showroom to an immaculately decorated room lined with mirrors where Alicia and her bridesmaids sat on a silk couch. Each of the girls had a glass of champagne and a sourpuss expression.
“Hello, Violet.” Alicia stood and kissed the air on either side of my cheeks. “I was afraid you weren’t going to make it.”
“Sorry,” I said, peeling off my coat. “The buses are running a bit late