Wedding Promises. Jennifer Faye
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Melissa’s reaction the night before hadn’t caused problems between the two of them. Laurel deserved a nice guy.
Eventually, she couldn’t put it off any longer. Showered and dressed in a knitted navy dress and knee boots, Eloise headed down to the conference room they’d put aside for the final dress fittings that morning. Melissa was already there, holding court over the two other bridesmaids while a harried-looking woman unpacked pins and measuring tapes and dress bags.
‘And here’s the replacement maid of honour,’ Melissa said, looking up as Eloise entered the room. ‘I hope you didn’t eat too many of the canapés last night, Eloise, or you’ll never fit into the dress!’ The bridesmaids both laughed, and Eloise bit her tongue to keep from responding. Apparently Melissa had already forgotten her comments about Cassidy, the previous maid of honour, putting on weight for a part. She’d probably remember in time to make another joke at Eloise’s expense, once she had the dress on.
She really hadn’t missed Melissa at all in the past decade, Eloise thought.
‘We were just talking about how Laurel and Dan tried to steal my thunder last night,’ Melissa went on.
‘And failed,’ one of the bridesmaids, who Eloise faintly recognised from her most recent cinema trip, said. Was she Iona? Eloise wasn’t sure. After a while, all those Hollywood blondes started to look the same to her.
‘Of course they did!’ said the other bridesmaid, who Eloise was almost certain was called Caitlin. ‘As if anyone cared about anything except how fabulous Mel looked in that dress last night.’
They all turned to Eloise, apparently waiting for her agreement. ‘It was a very beautiful dress,’ she said, hoping that was good enough. From what she’d overheard, plenty of people had an opinion on the groom’s brother and bride’s sister getting together. Some were even giving odds on their relationship outlasting Melissa and Riley’s.
‘And so is yours!’ Melissa clapped her hands together as the seamstress pulled the first bridesmaid’s dress from its bag. ‘Not as gorgeous as mine, of course, but still. What do you think?’
Eloise stared at the icy blue-green concoction of chiffon and silk. The colour wasn’t one she’d ever choose to wear but it was very appropriate for a winter wedding, she supposed. If they insisted on having photos taken outside, her skin colour might actually match the dress. That would be nice.
‘It’s lovely,’ she lied, as she got a good look at the laces at the back of the corset top. Corsets were for people with curves, weren’t they? And she didn’t have nearly as many of those as Melissa, or the bridesmaids. Eloise had height, long legs and a slender body, none of which, she imagined, were going to be shown off to their best advantage by this dress.
Which shouldn’t bother her at all. This was effectively a job, and she wore boring grey suits to work every day and never worried about whether they complemented her complexion. Why should she care now?
Because you’ll be standing next to Noah Cross.
She wished she could pretend that she just wanted to look good in the world’s media when the photos came out but, given that she was starring in this wedding alongside people who’d made the top ten in the world’s most beautiful people list, there wasn’t a hope of that to start with.
No, what she was really thinking about were Noah’s words the night before. ‘That is a very boring dress.’ Even though they’d established there would be no romance between them, a small part of her couldn’t help but wish the dress Melissa had picked might have wowed him, just a little.
She sighed. He’d just have to deal with a non-boring but faintly hideous dress, she supposed.
Stepping behind the screen they’d set up, Eloise slipped into the dress and pulled the corset top up over her non-existent curves.
‘Let me tighten that for you,’ the seamstress said, coming up behind her and yanking on the laces. Eloise winced as all the air flew out of her body. Apparently someone was determined for her to have curves, even if breathing had to be sacrificed.
Once she was suitably tightened and tied, Eloise stepped out into the main room, where the other two bridesmaids were already in their dresses. Apparently actresses didn’t have the same privacy issues as normal people. On each of them, the icy blue looked stunning against their blonde hair, and their delicate curves, quite possibly emphasised by breast implants, were highlighted to perfection. Looking at them, Eloise was surer than ever that Melissa’s comment about Laurel’s cleavage not fitting in the dress was just another excuse not to make her half-sister maid of honour.
‘Well, don’t you look...?’ Melissa trailed off and gave her a patronisingly encouraging smile. ‘I told you the dress would fit, didn’t I? Corsets are marvellously forgiving.’
‘I’ll just need to let down the hem a little...’ The seamstress fussed around her with the measuring tape.
Eloise wanted nothing more than to strip the dress off right there, no matter who was watching, and get back to hiding in her professional grey suit.
But then she heard Noah’s voice from the door to her left. ‘Wow.’
Fixing a smile onto her face, she turned to look at him, hoping against hope that he was a good enough actor to make her feel slightly less like an ugly stepsister in a pantomime.
‘You look... Wow.’ Noah’s gaze ran the length of her body before it met her own, and Eloise swallowed as she realised he wasn’t acting. Or if he was he was a lot better at it than his films suggested.
‘Noah Cross lost for words,’ Melissa said, her light tone sounding forced. ‘I never thought I’d see the day.’
Noah broke away from staring at her, and Eloise tried to take a deep breath to recover from the intensity of his gaze. Then she remembered the corset and settled for a few shallow ones instead.
‘Melissa, I don’t think you know how to pick a boring dress.’ He said it like a compliment and, from the way Melissa’s cheeks turned pink, it might have been the nicest thing he’d ever said to her. But Eloise felt a small glow inside her, knowing that he was making a private joke, just for her, and that Melissa would never get it.
‘I’m glad you approve,’ she said, apparently placated. ‘Now, are you ready to teach your pupil her steps?’
‘Steps?’ Eloise asked as Melissa and Noah both turned to look at her. She didn’t like the sound of that at all.
‘For the first dance at the reception,’ Melissa explained. ‘Obviously, it’ll just be Riley and me on the dance floor to start with, but then we’ve planned for the best man and maid of honour to join us, followed by Iona and Caitlin and their partners. Didn’t Laurel mention it?’
‘It didn’t come up,’ Eloise said, her voice faint. She’d been far more concerned with the details of the catering and the rooms than what was actually going to happen at the wedding reception itself. Speeches and dances and so on were Laurel’s department, not hers.
At least, they had been.
‘It’s not a complicated dance,’ Noah said, obviously trying to be reassuring. But he didn’t get it. It wasn’t the steps that bothered her. It wasn’t even being in Noah’s arms and having to restrain herself from kissing him, hard though that might be. No, it was all the eyes that would be on her as she stepped out onto the dance floor that made her hands shake and her knees wobble. It was being the centre of attention. That was what caused that big ball of anxiety in her chest to double in size.
‘Just try your best,’ Melissa said, her voice dripping false sympathy. ‘Everyone will know you’re not a professional, so they won’t be expecting much.’
‘Well, that’s okay then,’ Eloise ground out between her clenched teeth.
‘Why don’t we go practise somewhere else?’ Noah suggested, looking between them. ‘Far away.’
‘Good