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 shook my head 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 frowned at my gown’s 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 into 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 cock. One. Cock.”

“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 scoffed. “But guess what? It will be raunchy. It will be over the top. There will be cocks 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 grabbed 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 hell out’ and ‘I don’t want you here’? Or did putting your cock 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 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. Hell. 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 the door and opened it. “Besides, I don’t speak asshole. I never could master that language.”

“You owe me this, Claire...Just please, listen. Out of respect for how you used to feel about me...Out of respect for one of our old promises: You never forget your first.”

“Unless he knocks up your best friend. People never read the fine print on that one.”

“Claire—”

“Mr. Hayes.” Greg was suddenly standing next to me. “It would be best if you didn’t utter another word to Miss Gracen. You are not welcome on this property.”

Ryan’s eyes dimmed and he shook his head, looking at me as if he was hurt.

What the hell is wrong with him?!

“You have five seconds to walk out of this door, Mr. Hayes.” Greg narrowed his eyes and Ryan walked out of the office, looking back at me as two other security guards escorted him out.

“I’ve notified Mr. Statham about the intrusion.” He sounded disappointed. “Mr. Hayes slipped by our watch today and managed to take a cab here. My sincerest apologies, Miss Gracen. It won’t happen again. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” I lied.

I hated Ryan with every ounce of my being, but I’d seen that pained look from him twice before, back when we were married: Once, when we were being evicted out of our first apartment because we hadn’t paid the rent in three months. And again when I went into labor with Ashley and Caroline four weeks early.

It’s definitely something serious...

“Miss Gracen?” Greg snapped me out of my trance.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Statham asked if he needs to come by now.” He was holding his phone up to his ear. “He wants to know if you want to be taken home early because of this.”

I shook my head. “No, tell him I’m okay. I’ll go to his office after my three o’ clock.”

He nodded and repeated my message to Jonathan before leaving me alone.

Sighing, I walked over to my desk and sank into the chair. I shook my head, hoping that would remove any thoughts of Ryan from my head, but then I spotted a white envelope on my desk. Something that wasn’t there before.

I grabbed it and realized that Ryan had probably placed it there before he was escorted out. I knew that I shouldn’t open it, that I should simply shred it and go about my day, but I was curious:

Claire,

I’ve been sending you photos and letters every day, but last night I realized that you probably haven’t received any of them. So, I thought I would personally drop this one off.

I’m not here to cause any trouble in your new life—which seems to be quite wonderful by the way...

I moved here six months ago with Amanda and I decided not to tell the girls so I could have the opportunity to talk to you without you shutting down but...It seems as if you’ve already done that.

I would like to speak with you over coffee. You can tell me which shop, and I swear I’ll only use a few minutes of your time. (Do you honestly think I would be going through all this trouble if what I had to say wasn’t important? IT IS.)

Please call me so we can meet up with each other.

Your first,

Ryan

PS—You always were beautiful, but you look fucking amazing now :-)

PSS—I know a part of you still loves me...