A Bad Bride's Tale Read Online Free PDF Page B

She stood back and nodded approvingly. “Knockout.”
    “Really?” Lara turned in front of a full-length mirror, twisting to get a glimpse of her backside. “A get-laid bridesmaid dress?”
    Stevie laughed. “Definitely.”
    “I fully expect to be sitting next to someone hot.” Lara camped up a Joan Collins voice. “I don’t do old relatives.”
    “Don’t worry. You’ve been strategically placed next to Sam.” Ste- vie felt a prick of jealousy.
    “Your old Oxford friend Sam? The photographer guy?” Lara in- haled sharply to decrease her waist measurement. “And, yes, before you say it, I know there are about two single heterosexual men in their thirties left in the whole of London, so I am honored. There’s so much competition for the single men at weddings these days. You need to be like that . . .” She crossed her fingers. “. . . with the bride to even stand a remote chance of being seated at a decent table.”
    “Oh, I’m good to you, Lara.” Stevie laughed. “I will inflict freshly divorced Uncle Harry—all inquisitive hands and halitosis—on someone more deserving.”
    Lara smiled and tugged at the fabric around her waist. “Gina should nip it in a bit more here, don’t you think?” She liked to show her figure off.
    Stevie took a pin from between her teeth and pushed it into the seam. “Sam’s moving to New York, too, you know.” She adjusted Lara’s neckline, pleased about her friend’s prettiness in a dress she’d envisioned. “You’ll have stuff to talk about.”
    “Is he? Cool.” Lara put one hand on the back of a chair to balance and slid one small tanned foot carefully into a strappy silver heel, then the other, and struck a pose. Content at her reflection, she smiled. “Your turn.”
    Stevie picked up the pile of gray-white satin between forefinger and thumb. It was shiny and opaque, like the skin of a mushroom stalk, and seemed strangely insubstantial for its purpose. “Not much to it, is there? It’ll be like getting married in a nightgown.”
    Lara laughed and nudged her friend. “It’s beautiful. Put it on.” “I must warn you now. I haven’t found the right underwear. It
    just redistributes my back fat. I’ve got these, like, bulges.” “Curves, not bulges.”
    “Yeah, yeah.” Stevie stepped out of her print wrap-dress and ar- rowed her arms above her head as Lara lowered the dress over with reverential solemnity. The satin felt heavy against her skin and took a second or two to settle to her contours. She ran her fingers over her collarbone, exposed by the scooped neckline. “Check out this rash, Lara. I noticed it this morning. It started on my chest and now it’s creeping up my neck.”
    Lara traced the rash gently with her fingers. “Yeah, I can just feel it. But don’t fret. It’ll go. Probably stress. Now let me have a good look at you.” She stepped back. “God, you look . . . absolutely stunning. Look at yourself.” Lara held Stevie’s shoulders with cool hands and turned her around to face the mirror. Stevie stared at her reflection. The dress, cut on the bias, swirled around her ample curves. The satin bounced light into her face, which looked, in this bright afternoon light, pale and round as a plate. Yes, it certainly was a flattering dress, simple, nothing too lacy or shout. It now fit pretty perfectly. Gina had done well.
    “Look what you’re doing to me.” Lara’s eyes glittered with tears.
    She fanned her hands and made a funny noise, like a hybrid be- tween a cry and a laugh. “Sorry, I never thought I’d see you in a wedding dress.”
    Stevie snorted. “Neither did I.”
    Lara stood back, putting a hand on one hip. “It’s not that I thought you’d never get married, just that we would always be twenty-two and single.”
    Stevie smiled. “But here I am.” She could hardly believe it her- self.
    “Here you are.” Lara grinned mischievously. “Thank God you didn’t marry any of Jez’s predecessors. Can you imagine