He raised his eyebrow, but Miss Corwin kept talking. “I assume we’re going with black tuxedos for the groomsmen, Mr. Statham?”
“Yes.”
“Great! Well, since I have to find a place to build your venue, if you two don’t have any questions for me...” She looked back and forth between us, waiting for us to say something. “I’ll have the proposed budget for you on Monday, Mr. Statham. And Miss Gracen I look forward to seeing you again later.”
We both stood up and shook her hand, thanking all of her team members for having us on such short notice.
I helped them pack their binders and posters away and traveled with them down to the lobby.
“Wait here.” Jonathan said to me as he escorted them outside to the waiting limo he’d ordered.
As soon as the car pulled off, he walked up to me and pulled me into his arms. “Please tell me you were just being coy with her about your wedding dress.”
“Coy?”
“Is it hideous? Show me a picture of it and I’ll let you know my thoughts.”
“No...” I rolled my eyes. “I honestly don’t have it yet. I’m going shopping for it this weekend.”
“You told me you started shopping for your dress last weekend.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes. You did.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “That’s the reason why you came home late last Friday.” He pulled his phone out and scrolled through his texts. “Friday. Five forty eight pm: Jonathan, I’m going to be late for dinner tonight. I scheduled a late appointment with a dress boutique at six. I promise I’ll make it up to you—Claire.” He raised his eyebrow in anticipation of an answer.
“Okay...I did have an appointment, but it wasn’t at a dress shop.”
“You lied to me?”
“I couldn’t tell you what it was for because it’s...It’s for our anniversary.”
“So, you lied to me?” He pulled me even closer.
“Jonathan, it was a consultation appointment. After our anniversary, I’ll be happy to show you the timestamp on my receipt so you can see that I wasn’t lying to you. I did have something scheduled.”
He blinked. Then he stared into my eyes for a long time—not saying anything at all.
“Am I supposed to be staring back at you right now? Are we playing a game of some type?” I smirked. “First one to blink actually acts like an adult for the rest of the night?”
“Yes, future wife...” He tightened his grip around my waist. “We are going to play a game. It’s called, Jonathan is going to teach Claire a very strenuous lesson about lying to him...”
Chapter 6
Claire
I stood still in the center of a platform, trying my hardest not to roll my eyes. I was at a bridal boutique, patiently counting down the minutes until Greg drove me back home.
The dress I was trying on had been selected by my mother, so I was sure it looked terrible, but I’d appeased her and tried it on anyway.
“Please don’t drive Jonathan away like you did last year.” She zipped up the gown. “I almost smacked you for that. I ought to slap you right now for insurance, to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
I rolled my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror. “That was over eight months ago.”
“I don’t care how long ago it was. If I had a hot, sexy billionaire chasing me like he chased you, I would have given in the moment he asked me out. Hell, I probably would have slept with him the first night too.”
“Thank you, mother.” I shook my head and frowned at the dress’ neckline. “I’ll be sure to give that same advice to Ashley and Caroline one day...Anyway, I’m not sure if I like this dress. I don’t think he’ll like it either. There’s way too much beading across the top.”
There was actually way too much of everything on the dress. It covered every inch of me from the neck down; it had laced sleeves, a pleated waist, and enough beading for a kindergarten class to be entertained for a week.
“Well, I think it looks traditional,” she said. “You can never go wrong with traditional. I’m sure Jonathan will appreciate you in something like this.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Helen walked inside the room and immediately shooed my mother away. “No disrespect, Ms. Gracen, but we’ll only be trying on dresses that were sewn in this century—preferably this decade.”
My mother huffed and headed back out into the boutique. As soon as she was gone, Helen placed a few new gowns against the rack.
I flipped one of the price tags over and held back a gasp: Seventy eight thousand dollars.
I knew Jonathan didn’t care how much my dress would cost, but every dress in this store was a bit extreme.
“Are you excited?” Helen helped me out of the atrocity.
“I am.” I couldn’t help but smile. I went to sleep dreaming about our wedding every night.
“That’s good. You should be. And to celebrate this “tying yourself down” mess, I’m throwing you one hell of a bachelorette party. I’m almost done with the details, so if there are any people you want to invite, let me know. Make sure you tell them that everything is on me.”
“Oh, no.” I pulled the dress over my head. “That’s okay. I don’t really...”
“You don’t really what?”
“I don’t think I want a bachelorette party. I’d rather spend that time with Jonathan... I’ll be happy without one.”
“Claire...” She clutched her chest. “You are about to get married, which means that for the rest of your life—the rest of your life, you’re only going to be able to experience one dick. One. Dick.”
“Helen—”
“Do you know how depressing that is? Do you remember that day you told all of us that he proposed to you—the day you saw my tears? I wasn’t crying because I was happy. I was crying because I truly felt bad for you. I don’t care how good a man is in bed—that’s not enough to make me want to sleep with him for the rest of my life.”
“Are you going to be making a point any time soon?”
“I’m throwing you the most epic bachelorette party of all time, regardless of your fiancée’s ridiculous warnings.”
“He warned you?”
“He did.” She smiled. “He also sent me an email with some bullshit guidelines that he wants me to follow—something about not letting your party get too raunchy or over the top. He doesn’t want more than five men there, and he doesn’t want any man to get within three feet of you.” She rolled her eyes. “But guess what? It will be raunchy. It will be over the top. There will be dicks everywhere, and goddamnit Claire you will fucking love it. Now, turn around so I can help you into the next dress.”
I turned around and shook my head.
Over the next few hours, I tried on dress after dress, but I didn’t fall in love with any of them. They were either way too simple or way too decorative. What’s more was that every time I tried on a dress, Helen and my mother critiqued it as if I wasn’t standing in the room. Then they would argue over who had better taste.
“Have you tried looking in our gallery room, Mrs. Statham? I mean, Miss Gracen.” An attendant took a dress off a hanger. “All the dresses in that room are one of a kind.”
“I haven’t.” I sighed. “What’s the price range?”
“Very affordable. They start at ninety thousand dollars.”
Ninety thousand dollars?!
I wanted to decline, but Helen and my mother were arguing over veils, so I followed the woman out of my suite and into an all-white room.
There were only two racks of dresses, but they extended from wall to wall. It seemed like they were organized by size, because there was no way of telling what each dress looked like; they were all covered in sheer silver bags with pink tags hanging from their sides.