Mid Life Love: At Last (13 page)

“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...”

C
laire

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.

The attendant circled me with measuring tape, stretching it across my shoulders and my breasts, briefly holding it around my hips. 

“What type of dress do you love to wear on a regular day?” she asked. “A day when you’re only going to be running a few errands?”

“It’s usually something simple: solid color, basic shape, and a V-neckline.”

“I see...And how about when you go out on a date?”

“It depends...”

“Well, how about your last date? What type of dress did you wear? And where was it if you don’t mind me asking.”

I blushed just thinking about me and Jonathan’s last date. “It was at a vineyard. Nude colored lace dress with a low cut in the front.”

“Right. And you previously mentioned that you prefer the toned down organza skirt, sweetheart neckline, and corset bodice so...” She thumbed through a few hangers and pulled out a dress. “
This
is your wedding gown. Guarantee it.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I’m the best.” She smiled and led me back to my fitting room. “Let me know how it works for you.”

I honestly didn’t want to try it on, but I slipped back into my suite and walked right between Helen and my mother. “Could you two help me into this last one please? Then we can all get drinks before we head back.”

“What about the shopping spree?” My mother frowned. “Jonathan promised me I could get whatever I wanted. Don’t you have his credit card with you?”

“
Yes
...” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll just have Greg pick you up tomorrow and bring you back.”

I stood still as she and Helen took their time helping me into the long, silk dress. I didn’t bother looking in the mirror as they tugged and smoothed every inch of it. I just wanted to get this over with and go home.

I expected them to start arguing over whether they liked it or not, but they were both staring at me in stunned silence.

“Is it that bad or that good?” I asked.

“It’s absolutely
perfect
.” Helen’s eyes lit up. “You look beyond beautiful, Claire...”

“Would you like to put on the matching veil?” My mother’s eyes were filled with tears.

I nodded and stooped down so they could pull my hair into a knot and guide the veil’s comb onto my head.

“Don’t look yet.” Helen smiled. “Let me ask the attendants for some jewelry.”

I waited until she returned and tried to be as still as possible as she fastened a Harry Winston wreath around my neck. I tried to sneak a peek of myself, but my mother held my head still and secured a pair of diamond earrings onto my ears.

They led me into the main room, where the largest mirror was, and helped me onto another platform. As they stepped back, I could see tears falling down their faces.

Out the corner of my eye, I spotted the shop’s attendants whispering and nodding their heads in approval.

I couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. “Can I turn around and look in the mirror now?”

“
Yes
.” They said in unison.

I slowly spun around and sucked in a breath once I saw my reflection.

Oh my god...

The dress was flawless. Utter perfection.

It was a strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline, a neckline that was embellished with a thin line of sparkling white and silver crystals. The top of the dress fit like a vintage corset and gave way to a long skirt of beautiful organza waves that flowed from my hips to my toes—into a long train that draped off the platform.

The veil was simple, but stunning. It had light, lace accents around its edges and its’ ends grazed my lower back.

I twirled around and looked over my shoulder, noticing that the jewelry I was wearing perfectly complemented the shimmering beads in the veil’s comb.

I didn’t want to cry, but the tears had already begun to fall down my face. Everything suddenly felt more real now; I was actually getting married.

“This is it.” There was a lump in my throat. “This is the dress I want.”

All of the attendants clapped, and the manager walked over and handed each of us a glass of chilled champagne.

“Congratulations, Miss Gracen,” she said. “I’ll bring out our seamstress to check for any necessary alterations.”

“Just to be clear, these aren’t really tears in my eyes.” Helen stepped onto the platform and hugged me. “This moment never happened.”

I held back a laugh and nodded.

“I can’t get over how
beautiful
you look, Claire. You’re gorgeous...” My mother dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex. “He’s not going to be able to look away from you once you walk down that aisle.” She put her hand over her chest and cried. “
Please
don’t fuck this up!”

––––––––

I
smiled as Jonathan’s newest set of flowers were rolled into my office the next day. They were a collection of white, pink, and yellow tulips, with wild orchids evenly placed in between them.

I took the envelope that was on top and sliced it open:

Five Places Where I’d Love to Fuck You

5. At a crowded concert

4. In a packed movie theater

3. In our bathroom’s sauna

2. On the hood of my Bugatti

1. On my boardroom table...

Call me as soon as your last meeting is over.

Love,

Your Future Husband

I laughed and slipped the note into my pocket. “You can send my ten o’ clock back now, Rita.” I buzzed the intercom.

I walked over to my door and opened it, expecting to see an elderly man and his wife but instead—
Ryan
?
!

“You never struck me as the domestic type, Claire.” He took off his hat and walked right past me. “But I guess when you’re engaged to a
billionaire
your priorities change. Interior design? Really?” He scoffed. “I bet I can guess what the other “C” in
C & C’s Charming Designs
means.”

“Do you not understand ‘get the fuck out’ and ‘I don’t want you here’? Or did putting your dick in Amanda over the years cause you to lose some of your hearing?”

“You always were a smartass. I loved that about you.”

“Clearly not enough. Get the fuck out.”

He sighed. “Do you know how hard it is to adjust to a
new
city? How much harder it is when you’re being
watched and followed
by security guards everywhere you go?” He shook his head. “Are you
that
threatened by me?”

“Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

“I’ll leave.” He walked towards me. “But we need to talk first.
Sit down
.”

“I’ll sit down after you
leave
.”

“You can’t give me five seconds?”

“I’ve given you more than that already.” I walked over to my door and opened it. “Besides, I don’t speak asshole. I never could master that language.”