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Authors: Rachel Schurig

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BOOK: Lovestruck Forever
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“That
much is obvious so far,” my mom said. She downed her champagne
quickly, and I met Sofie’s eyes, grinning. My mom was awesome
when she got tipsy.

Carla
and Reese returned with dresses and we got started. “We went
plain with the styling on these first few,” Reese explained
once we were in the small dressing room, pulling the first gown over
my head. “We want you to just focus on the fit and the way you
feel.”

Free
not to worry about lace or tulle, I quickly discovered that I felt
most comfortable in an A-line gown after all. I knew my sisters would
be disappointed by the lack of mermaid cut, but I ordered myself not
to worry about it.

“This
is a good start,” Carla assured me. “Now we can begin to
have some fun. How do you want to feel at your wedding?”

“Modern?”
Reese asked. “Sophisticated? Elegant? Sexy? Romantic?”

“Romantic,”
I said.

“She’s
a writer,” Callie explained. “She’s all into those
old-fashioned romance novels. Jane Austen and all that.”

Carla
nodded. “We can do romantic.”

They
brought out satin dresses and silk dresses, some with crystals, some
with lace. I realized quickly that I was having fun. Sofie and Callie
were ideal shopping partners, oohing and aahing over everything,
while giving their honest opinion. Best of all, neither of them
demonstrated even an iota of bossiness. My mother seemed to very much
enjoy being one of the girls. She giggled and squealed just like my
friends. I was sure the third glass of champagne didn’t hurt.

“Let’s
try this,” Carla said, pulling a gown from the back of the
rack. “Since you liked the lace accents on the last one…”

She
helped me into the dress, zipping it behind me. There were no mirrors
in the small dressing room but a quick look down told me the dress
was entirely lace. “Let’s show them,” she said,
swinging open the door to the waiting area.

The
room immediately went silent. I looked at Callie nervously—she
was staring at me with a hand over her mouth.

“That
bad?” I stepped up onto the pedestal and finally saw my
reflection in the mirror.

“Wow,”
I whispered. “This is…”

“Gorgeous,”
Sofie murmured. “It’s
gorgeous
.”

She
was right. I was wearing the most beautiful dress I’d ever laid
eyes on. Ivory colored and covered in lace, it clung to me softly
before spreading out in a gentle swell of a skirt. The waist was a
bit higher than the other dresses, nearly empire, and the neckline
was cut in a subtle sweetheart dip before rising up to meet the
delicate cap sleeves. The dress may have been too demure if not for
the large cut out in the back, edged with a scalloped lace design.

My
mother promptly burst into tears.

“Mom!”

“It’s
perfect,” she cried, standing up to hug me. “Oh, Lizzie,
you look beautiful.”

Even
Callie was surreptitiously dabbing her eyes. “It looks like it
was made for you.”

“Do
you
like it?” Carla asked.

I
felt dangerously close to tears myself. It was like nothing I had
tried on before, like nothing I had ever planned to wear, yet,
somehow, it was perfect. The absolute most perfect dress I could ever
imagine.

“I
love it.”

Sofie
clapped her hands. “Yay! I would have been so disappointed if
you didn’t like it.”

“What
about the veil?” I asked my mom. “Will it match?”

She
pulled the veil from a carrier bag we’d brought along and held
it up to the dress. The color was nearly identical.

“Hang
on!” Reese interrupted. “You need to see the whole
thing!”

She
and Carla descended on me with hair clips, earrings, and necklaces,
blocking my view of the mirrors while they worked. When they were
finished there was another hush in the room.

“There,”
Carla said, her voice satisfied. “Now look.”

They
stepped aside so I could see my reflection. This time, I did cry.
They’d pulled my hair up in a loose pile on top of my head,
letting some of the curls dance around my face. The clip bearing my
grandmother’s veil was fastened into the bun, the long laced
edge skimming my shoulders. Sparkling crystal clusters clung to my
earlobes and a single fake diamond hovered between my collarbones
from a delicate silver chain.

I
looked like a bride.

“Oh,
Lizzie,” my mother breathed. “I want to hug you, but I’m
afraid to touch you.”

“Well
someone better hug me!” I cried, wiping at my eyes and laughing
at the same time. The three of them jumped up and pulled me into a
circle of arms and kisses. Everyone was sniffling and laughing, and I
felt so incredibly happy. I was going to
marry
Thomas in this dress. In this beautiful, romantic, perfect dress that
I’d chosen, without any pressure from anyone else.

“I
take it you’ve found your gown?” Carla asked as everyone
released me, Callie and my mom reaching for Kleenex.

“Absolutely.”
In the mirror, I looked almost like a different person. More
beautiful than I ever remembered feeling. More elegant and composed.
But still
me
.
A huge smile stretched across my face, and I knew it was hopeless to
try to hide it.

“Congratulations,”
Carla said, squeezing my shoulders.

“Thank
you guys so much,” I said. “You made it so easy.”

“The
dress was just waiting to find you,” Reese said, winking at me
in the mirror.

“Well,
I’m glad it did!” I don’t know how long I stood
there, staring at the dress in the mirror. The idea of taking it off,
of returning to my normal street clothes, was terrible. If they would
let me, I would wear it out of the store. It was only when Sofie
finally cleared her throat and informed me that her unborn baby was
demanding food that I agreed to change.

“Don’t
worry,” my mom told me as I finally stepped off the pedestal.
“You’ll be wearing it again in no time.”

“Not
soon enough.” I took one last look at the dress in the mirror,
wishing I could somehow speed up time. More than ever before, I was
ready to marry Thomas. In fact, I wasn’t sure how I was going
to last until October.

Chapter Seventeen

 

My
flight to London was scheduled for an hour after my family’s
flight home, so we all headed to the airport together on Thursday
evening.

“You’ll
call us as soon as you hear anything?” my mother asked, holding
my hands outside their gate. Ciara had told the publishers we’d
begin accepting offers that afternoon, and my family was more anxious
about it then I was—if that was possible. Ciara said she wanted
us to wait until we had final offers on the table before we made a
decision on Monday. I had no idea how I was going to sit through an
overnight flight while my agent was out there, negotiating my first
book sale.

“I
promise, Mom.”

“Even
if it’s the middle of the night in Detroit. You call me,
Lizzie.”

I
laughed, hugging her. “I promise.”

After
I said goodbye to my dad and Sofie, they all boarded the plane, and I
wandered around the airport in the general direction of my gate. I
stopped in a bookstore, thinking about my first flight to London with
Callie. I had been so excited that day I couldn’t sit still,
and had headed off to a bookstore in an attempt to keep my brain
occupied. It had been my first international flight, and only my
second flight anywhere. Now, nearly two years later, I’d
crossed the ocean a dozen times.

“Can
I help you find anything?” the clerk asked as I approached the
magazine shelf he was stocking. I was relieved to see that the covers
with pictures of Thomas and me had been replaced.

“Just
browsing,” I told him, edging past him to a bookrack filled
with new releases. I ran my fingers across a glossy dust jacket.
Would I find my books here, eventually? I shivered a little at the
thought before plucking up a paperback I’d been meaning to read
and heading to the cashier. On impulse, I grabbed a bridal magazine
on the way.

It
was going to be hard enough to keep myself from going crazy imagining
what might be happening with the book negotiations. I hoped that, if
the paperback didn’t keep me occupied, maybe wedding fantasies
would.

I
landed in London the next morning, as groggy as if I had flown
uncomfortable and cramped in coach. In spite of the fold-down bed
pods of first class, which I usually got an enormous kick out of, I
hadn’t managed to sleep much. It was just too difficult to
quiet my mind. I knew it was too early for Ciara to have called with
any news—it was still night in New York—but I hated the
fact that my phone had to be off for such a long stretch of time.

Thomas
was already shooting for the day, so he arranged for a car to pick me
up. I had tried to convince him that I was perfectly capable of
taking a cab, but he insisted. It was my first time back in London
since the engagement news had officially broken, and he wasn’t
taking any chances.

There
were half a dozen reporters and photographers waiting outside of his
apartment, which I found odd. They surely must have figured out that
he wasn’t there. When I climbed out of the car, they turned en
masse toward me, shouting out questions, the camera flashes going off
in every direction. I wished I’d stopped at the airport
bathroom to wash my face and brush my hair.

“Excuse
me,” I said firmly, crossing the sidewalk as confidently as I
could, praying they would step aside. Thomas’s doorman was up
ahead, holding the door open for me, but he was no security guard.
He’d be no match for this many people if they decided to get in
my way.

“How’s
the wedding planning going, Lizzie?” one called.

I
ran through the reminders from Jade, the media relations specialist
at Heidi’s office as to the best ways of dealing with
unexpected reporters. Be friendly. Be polite. Smile. Walk with
purpose. Avoid stopping. Answer briefly or simply say, no comment.

“It’s
coming along great,” I said, trying not to wince as another
flash went off. I said a silent prayer of thanks that they were
letting me through, that they weren’t crowding too much or
blocking my path. So far so good.

“Are
you excited for the wedding?”

“Very
excited, thanks.”

I
was just about at the porch and I breathed a sigh of relief, freedom
in sight.

“Any
news on the book deal?”

I
froze in the act of lifting my foot to the first step, caught off
guard.

“We’re
hearing you’re selling a book based on your experiences dating
a celeb,” the same reporter continued. “Any truth to
that?”

“That’s
definitely just a rumor,” I said, hoping my voice sounded
unaffected.

“You
weren’t just in New York meeting with publishers?”

Be
friendly. Be polite. Smile. Walk with purpose. Avoid stopping. Answer
briefly or simply say, no comment.

“I’m
an author,” I said cheerily, urging my feet to begin moving
again. I was nearly there. “A
fiction
author. Meeting with publishers is part of the job.”

“Lizzie,
is there any truth to—”

Before
he could finish, I turned and gave them all one last smile and wave.
“Thanks for the welcome to London.” There was some
laughter and more flashes, but then I was turning and passing through
the open door, the doorman shutting it firmly behind me.

“Good
morning, Miss Medina,” he said. “You handled that very
well.”

“Thanks,
Ted.”

“I
called Heidi’s office when they arrived a few minutes ago,”
he explained. “She was going to send security, but they didn’t
get here in time.”

“Don’t
worry about it, Ted. It worked out okay. I’ll see you later,
okay?”

I
made my way to Thomas’s flat, letting myself in with my key. I
left my bag by the door and flopped down onto the couch, exhausted. I
pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Thomas.
Got
here safe. Reporters downstairs. Think I handled it okay? Call when
you can
.

Less
than thirty seconds after hitting send, the phone rang in my hand.
Thomas.

“Hello?”

“There
were reporters there?”

I
sighed, knowing he was going to get all worked up about it. “Not
that many. They let me through okay; it wasn’t really a big
deal. Hello to you, too, by the way.”

“Sorry.”
He sounded slightly more calm. “How was your flight?”

“It
was fine. I couldn’t sleep much, too nervous.”

“Any
news from Ciara?”

“It’s
the middle of the night there,” I reminded him.

He
paused and I knew he was eager to switch back to the reporters issue.

“It
really wasn’t a big deal, Thomas. I tried to remember
everything Jade told me about dealing with reporters and it
worked—they didn’t crowd me or anything. Just asked a few
questions and took a few pictures.”

“I
don’t understand why Ted didn’t call Heidi’s
office. He’s supposed to do that whenever reporters show up so
she can make sure there’s proper security.”

“He
said he called, but there wasn’t time to get the security here
before I arrived.”

“Then
Heidi should have called you to warn you.”

I
sighed. I understood why he got worked up about this kind of thing,
but I wished he would give me a little more credit. “If Heidi
called me, I would have just been nervous about it. I really did
handle it fine, Thomas.”

“I
don’t like that you have to handle it.” He was quiet for
a moment, and I imagined him closing his eyes, trying to get control
of his feelings. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer, more
cheerful. “So, what are your plans for the day?”

“To
be honest, I’d love to take the world’s longest nap. But
that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.”

BOOK: Lovestruck Forever
5.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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