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I peek at my phone again, reading the text from Charlie’s sister Ali, sent to all the women in the bridal party.

Let’s meet at 1 p.m. at Monique’s Bridal! There will be champagne. :)

I take a deep breath, staring out my car window at Monique’s Bridal. I see a gaggle of girls come around the corner, and spot Alianna in the middle of them.

A mix of emotions are running through me, but I shove them down and get out of the car, crossing the street toward them.

“Oh, it’s Grace!” Ali says. “I’m so glad you came!”

She hugs me, and it only makes the anxiety grow stronger. I’m not much of a hugger, but I let it happen. I already feel guilty for being on this shopping trip, seeing as how I'm not really dating Charlie. No need to make it weird on top of that. But they don’t know that.

“No problem!” I say, trying to make my voice sound upbeat.

“Let me make introductions before we go inside,” Ali says. “This is Lindsay, Sam, and Ellie.”

She gestures to three women. Two of them are petite and blonde like Ali herself, and they’re dressed as preppy as J. Crew models. Ellie seems to be the odd one out, tall and thin, dark-haired and wearing an artsy, hot pink dress. Cheryl isn’t coming, but she’s the last bridesmaid. She texted in the group message that she hadn’t slept at all with Evie being up all night.

“Hi,” I say. “It’s nice to meet y’all.”

“Ladies, this is Grace. She’s dating Charlie.”

I note the looks of total surprise on all three of their faces, followed by a look on Lindsay’s face like she smelled something rotten. I assume that look isn’t directed at me, but I’m mildly offended anyway.

I guess Diane isn’t the only one to have the hots for Charlie.

Sam and Ellie say hello, but Lindsay just gives me a tight smile. Luckily, Ali is too caught up in starting the dress shopping to notice. My heart races and the nerves build up even more as she ushers everyone toward the store.

“Come on! Let’s go in,” Ali says, looking excited.

The window display has a lady mannequin dressed in what I assume is the height of bridal couture. The dress is white satin, tightly fitted and turned to the side to showcase the low-cut back.

It makes me wonder what kind of dress Ali is looking for, exactly.

We head toward the back; Ali knows just where to go. There’s a single podium, empty at the moment, and a curved wall that blocks the rest of the store from sight. All the decor is colored in shades of cream and pastel pink.

I blink, the bright lights and bridal attire feeling overwhelming. Before anyone can say anything, an elegant older lady arrives in a cloud of perfume and pink satin. Her graying hair and thin frame fit in with the store.

“Hello, hello,” she speaks clearly, but with a Parisian accent. “You’re here for Alianna?”

“Yes! That’s me,” Ali says.

“Bien. I’m Monique, the owner. Let me get you ladies set up.”

There’s a large round pink ottoman to sit on, two stuffed chairs, and a throne. Like an actual throne.

To our left, there’s a huge three-way mirror with a low pedestal in the middle. Ali looks at the pedestal nervously.

“You sit here,” Monique says to Ali, gesturing to the throne. “And the rest of you, sit where you like.”

Ali glances at us, then goes to sit on the gilded throne. After a minute she grins, looking like she's enjoying it. Lindsay and Sam take the two chairs, leaving Ellie and me to sit on the ottoman.

“All right,” Monique announces. Her English is perfect, though her accent is heavy. “What are we looking for, Miss Alianna?”

Ali turns a pretty shade of pink. “Okay, I already have the reception dress.” Her confidence growing as she talks. “My wedding is in a week, and I need a second dress for the ceremony. My ma wants something more traditional even though it’s a smaller, more casual wedding.” I almost laugh at Ali’s response. Charlie told me how his mom has been nagging Ali. I guess she finally gave in one full week before the deadline. She's cutting it close.

“Okay. Tell me what this ideal dress looks like.”

“Umm, I brought some pictures…” Ali says, digging through her purse. The entire place is quiet as we wait. “Here. I made an album of the dresses that I like from my bridal magazines.”

“Ah!” Monique says. “Let’s see.”

She takes the stack of photos from Ali and sifts through them. She's quiet for a long time, taking the measure of each picture fully. I feel awkward sitting here with them.

“Do you think you’ll be able to help us?” Sam asks, fidgety. “She waited until the last minute,” she adds, giving Ali a face which only makes Ali give her a face back.

“Of course,” Monique says. She looks at all of us, very serious. “I have dresses in the back that should be more than suitable.”

“Oh,” Sam says. “Well, alright!”

“Come, come. Let us get you started,” Monique says to Ali. “The fitting room is right here. Marcus will be in with some champagne shortly.” I don’t know who Marcus is, but I could use that champagne.

Ali beams, following Monique to an area behind a heavy pink brocade curtain and leaving us alone. As soon as Ali’s gone I catch Lindsay looking at me, then she rolls her eyes and leans over to whisper to Sam. What the fuck. My body temperature drops as I look at Ellie, who gives me a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t know much about wedding dress shopping,” I say, fumbling for something to break the ice.

“Oh, me neither. My sister came here for her wedding dress, though,” Ellie says easily. She runs her hand over her dark hair, which is up in a messy bun. “It’s nice.”

“Yeah, definitely,” I agree.

A door opens on the far side of the room, and an older man comes in with a tray of glasses and a bottle of champagne. Oh, thank fuck. He doesn’t say much, just pours the champagne into flutes and passes them out.

“Thank you,” I say, accepting the champagne gratefully.

I immediately take a sip. It’s sweet, and the bubbles tickle my tongue.

“Mmmm,” Ellie says. “Thank God for alcohol.”

“Yeah. I was surprised Ali asked me to come,” I say with a shrug to make my words seem casual.

“Ali was my roommate during our first couple of years of college,” Ellie says.

“Ahh. I was wondering how you knew each other,” I say, nodding.

Ellie smiles and sips her champagne. Before I'm forced to think of something else to say, Ali makes her appearance.

She’s stunning, wearing a silky number that has a strappy back, a simple front, and clings to her hips.

“Oooh, champagne!” she says, rushing to pick up her glass from where Marcus left the tray.

She takes a sip, then heads over to the mirror. Without even standing on the pedestal, she pans the dress.

“Bleh,” she says. She turns to walk toward us, looking like a miniature model. “Monique is bringing some more dresses. This is too much like a bondage costume.”

I laugh. “If you say so. I think you look beautiful.”

“It’s beautiful,” Lindsay says. “Bondage or not.”

Ali sweeps over to the ottoman, perching beside me.

“I know all about these bitches,” she says, leaning closer to me. “But nothing about you, Grace. Tell me about yourself.”

“Uhh… what do you want to know?” The small bit of tension that left with Ali’s joke comes back full force.

“I don’t know. Where did you grow up?”

“Here. I’m an Atlanta baby.”

“And your family? Big, small?” She asks another easy question.

“Small family. It’s just myself and my younger sister, besides my mom.”

“Did you go to college?” Ellie asks.

“I did. I went to Brenau University for one year, then I finished my degree at Rhode Island School of Design. I’m a graphic designer now.”

“You went to RISD?” Lindsay says from across the room, disbelieving.

“Yes?” I say, uncertain. “I studied watercolor and oil painting along with graphic design.”

“I went to Savannah College of Art and Design,” she says. “I’m an interior designer.”

“Oh! That’s really cool,” I say. Small world.

“She’s also Charlie’s ex-girlfriend,” Sam says, crossing her arms.

Ali laughs. “No, she wanted to be Charlie’s girlfriend. There’s a huge difference.”

I bite my lip, but Monique pokes her head in to call Ali back. “Alianna, my dear. I have three more dresses for you to try on.”

“I’ll be back,” Ali says, winking to me. “Try not to get in any catfights.”

It seems that Ali knows about Lindsay’s lingering crush, and she's determined to stick up for me despite it. I nod to her, sipping my champagne, feeling like I’m on the outside. Not only that, but I feel guilty for lying to her about my relationship with her brother. This isn’t real.

We sit in silence for a minute until Ali comes out in a new gown, and I deliberately don’t look up. I’ll just sip my champagne, smile and ooh and ahh when I’m supposed to. Or at least I’ll try to.

Ali’s hips sway as she walks to the mirror. This one is pretty, but not as formal as the other one. It's sleeveless, dark cream lace with a cutout in the back. Her face falls when she sees it though.

Ali makes her way to the pedestal, turning this way and that. She faces us again. “What do you think?”

“Pretty,” Sam pipes up.

“Yeah, pretty,” Ellie says, nodding her head as her eyes travel up and down the gown.

“Not pretty enough, though,” Lindsay says.

“I think I agree,” I say. “But it is pretty,” I add with a peppy voice just in case she likes it.

“Yeah,” Ali agrees, shoulders slumping. “All right. Cheer me up with some more details about yourself. Tell us how you met Charlie.”

“Oh, yeah!” Ellie says. “How’d you meet that hunk of man candy?” Her question forces a grin on my face. When the other girls look at her funny, she shrugs. “What? I can’t think that Ali’s brother is hot?”

We all laugh.

“Okay,” I say, returning my attention back to Ali. “Charlie and I met because my friend Diane told me about his bar. She took me there for a drink, and one thing led to another…”

I leave it open-ended, hoping that their imaginations will be better than mine.

“When are you going to officially be his girlfriend?” Lindsay asks pointedly.

I frown. Her question is like a bucket of ice water to the face.

“Jesus, Lindsay,” Ali says, getting up. “You really are no fun when it comes to Charlie, you know that?”

“Sorry,” Lindsay mumbles.

Ali disappears into the changing room again before I have to answer. I should try for diplomacy with Lindsay. After all, I’m the one who’s full of crap. If I wasn’t in the way, Lindsay could be putting the moves on Charlie. She could be winning his heart, for all I know.

The idea of the pretty little blonde with big handsome Charlie makes me nauseated, but I choke it down, and wash the bad taste out of my mouth with another gulp of champagne. I’m going to play nice with Lindsay.

“I just started dating Charlie,” I tell her. “It’s barely even a thing.”

“Yeah?” she says, looking surprised.

“Yeah, totally. Like, we’re not even exclusive or anything.” I bite my tongue as soon as I say that. Charlie probably won’t appreciate that I've given Lindsay license to kill where he’s concerned.

Then again, it’s not like we’re married. Just friends… He’s the one who said it’s just for fun. He can deal with it.

“Wow. Well… okay,” she says, some of her gloom lifting. Although she’s now smiling, my heart hurts and I wish I hadn’t said that. But I can’t take it back now.

Ali comes back out, and the way she looks in the third dress knocks the breath right out of me. The dress is pure white, with delicate lace straps, lacy cups, and a full skirt. She turns, and the back has a row of tiny white buttons.

There’s a collective gasp in the room. She climbs up on the pedestal, straightening her skirts and looks at us in the mirror.

“Y’all,” she takes a minute to sway and then says, “I think I found my dress.”

“Yay!” Ellie and I say.

“That is definitely the one,” Lindsay affirms.

“No kidding,” Sam says, getting misty-eyed. “You're a gorgeous bride.”

“And look!” Ali says, pulling up her skirts to reveal a pair of cowboy boots. “We’re all going to wear these under our dresses.” I can’t help but smile. “Cute, don’t you think?” she asks.

“Definitely,” Sam says.

“You and Charlie can knock boots. Literally,” Ali says devilishly.

I blush. “Yeah… maybe.”

I laugh, and the other girls smile. Marcus appears to refill our champagne glasses, and I absently empty my glass before he gets to mine, wondering what Charlie would say.