Charlotte hadn’t known what to expect when she finally saw Amy Troyer. It did irritate her just a little bit to hear that the woman had kept Dean’s name. She couldn’t help it. A name felt like it implied some kind of ownership. Some lasting, unbreakable connection. On top of that, Amy was very attractive, in the perfect-makeup, polished-outfit, super-white-teeth kind of way.
Maybe it was the air of maturity about her, the easy way she laughed and familiar way she touched Dean’s arm at the same time, or possibly the slight smirk she’d given Charlotte when they were introduced. But something about her made Charlotte feel uneasy.
And childish.
Oh right, it was jealousy. Pure and simple green-monstered envy. And she couldn’t help being annoyed that Dean had introduced her as just Charlotte. Not my girlfriend, Charlotte. Not even my friend Charlotte. He hadn’t touched her yet, either.
She really needed to stop being ridiculous and overanalyzing everything he did or didn’t do. It was clear that this entire situation made him uncomfortable, probably for a variety of reasons. He was in a bridal shop with his ex-wife and the woman he’d recently started seeing.
How bizarre.
“It really is very kind of you to help Dean with this wedding planning,” Amy said as they waited in the front room of the shop.
Charlotte was tempted to mention their trade, her help with the wedding for Dean posing like a sexy hero, but she had a sinking suspicion he wouldn’t appreciate her sharing. “Well, the Stag guys have become friends, so it was my pleasure to help him.”
Dean gave Charlotte a warm look. “I couldn’t have done it without her. That’s for sure.”
Amy looked perplexed at that comment, but before she could respond, the woman helping them at the front counter peeked her head out from the back room. “If you’d all like to head through the curtain to the back, I’ve got the dress ready.”
Amy led the way, and as they fell into line, Dean then Charlotte, he hesitated outside the curtain. Turning, he lifted her hand in his, brought her knuckles to his mouth, and placed a quick kiss there. “Thank you for doing this.”
He dropped her hand and held the curtain aside for her. With a little smile, she passed by.
So was that an official declaration? They could touch, but only in secret? If so, she was a little pissed, but they could discuss that later. Especially when she had other things to bring her down, like the fact that Lydia Jane’s Bridal Shop still looked exactly as it had when she’d been in here trying on her own wedding dress.
The back of the shop was open and spacious with high ceilings that were peppered with pot lights. In the center was a beautiful crystal chandelier that highlighted the beads and shimmer of the dresses dotted around the room. The damask-wallpapered walls were mostly covered with mirrors, so a woman standing on one of the five platforms could see herself reflected at any angle. It was a little disconcerting to see your own face every which way you turned. It forced a reminder not to look stricken, so she pasted a smile on her face as their saleslady, Shirley, led them to the gown, which hung on a display rod.
“Oh my goodness,” Amy said wistfully. “Dean, can’t you already imagine our girl in this dress.”
Dean cleared his throat. “My sister, Amy, who is a grown woman. And, uh, yes. It looks nice.”
Amy turned. “Nice? It’s gorgeous.” Touching the lace sleeve, she spoke to Charlotte. “Don’t you agree, Charlotte?”
Honest truth, it wasn’t something Charlotte would have chosen. Not for herself, maybe not for anyone. Not that it wasn’t lovely … it just wasn’t her style. “It’s very pretty, but since I don’t really know Alex, it’s hard for me to judge it.”
“And yet … you’ve planned her entire wedding.” Amy laughed, but it was on the bitter side.
“Amy.” Dean’s word was a warning. “Don’t be like that.”
She definitely didn’t need or want Dean fighting her battles. “Actually, I believe a dress is a much more personal and subjective thing than, say … choosing the kind of chicken to serve a hundred people. I wouldn’t have been comfortable with the job, so Alex is lucky to have you.”
“Thank you, Charlotte.” She turned to Dean. “See, I told you.”
He reached out and shocked Charlotte by giving her hand a quick squeeze before sitting down in a plush ivory chair. Charlotte could tell he was already over the errand. She also noticed that Amy hadn’t missed their interaction.
The saleslady came back in with a notebook. “I realize we’re working with some unusual circumstances so I’ve discussed it with one of our seamstresses. She just so happens to have a son in the marines, so she is sympathetic with your time line.”
Dean nodded, leaning forward in the chair. “That’s kind of her.”
“It is. She agreed to last-minute alterations on the bodice part of the dress if we could just fit for the length. That way she can get some of the work completed ahead of time. So hopefully you know how tall the bride is?”
Charlotte glanced at Dean, who looked at Amy, his expression a little panicked. “Not exactly, no. Does it need to be exact?” he asked Shirley.
She quirked her lips. “It’s certainly better if it is. Is there a way to ask her?”
Dean shook his head. “I’m not supposed to speak with her for another week. She’s been on a mission. I can email but there is no guarantee she’ll get it or respond.”
“Certainly we can get close.” Amy stepped closer to the chair Dean sat in. When she laid her nails on his shoulder, Charlotte flinched. “If you stand up, Dean, can you imagine how tall she is compared with you? I mean, worst case we have to adjust with her shoe choice, right?”
“You could.” Shirley looked skeptical.
Dean stood with a sigh. Instead of discussing it with Amy, he walked right over to Charlotte and stood directly in front of her. “She’s a little taller than Charlotte. But she definitely isn’t taller than me.”
Charlotte tilted her head up and looked into Dean’s eyes. He gave her his quick, almost imperceptible wink before stepping back.
“I guess we’ll ballpark it and hope for the best. What size dress are you, dear?” the attendant asked Charlotte, whose mouth dropped open.
“Uhh, well—”
“This one was ordered in an eight. Do you think you could slip it on so we could take some measurements?”
Charlotte’s face became flushed. She’d say she was a solid ten jeans, an eight dress if she’d been running consistently. But her boobs … they could pose a problem. “I can try.”
“Are you sure, Charlotte? I didn’t kn—” Dean started.
“It’s fine.” She smiled and put a hand out. “All girls love to try on dresses. Right?”
Dean gave her a sympathetic expression and Amy looked like she didn’t know how things had gotten away from her so quickly as Charlotte followed the woman into the large dressing room.
“Didn’t expect to be doing this today, did you?” Shirley said with a grin, as if Charlotte should be excited. The woman had no idea that this was the last thing she’d ever want to do, so she just gave a slight smile as she began to remove her clothes.
“This dress will definitely require some kind of strapless bra or bustier.”
“I don’t know, I’m kind of worried about fitting myself into this one.” Charlotte tried to joke, but the woman turned and analyzed her breasts. Weird.
“Hm. Maybe we will try it without. Just see how it is. I guess it doesn’t matter since we’ll be doing that measurement at a later date. I just wanted to make it a real wedding gown experience for you. Just for fun.”
“Oh, that’s quite unnecessary,” Charlotte said as she turned to fold her shorts before laying them in a chair. She’d already had that experience, thank you very much.
Charlotte removed her bra and covered her breasts as she stepped into the gown. Facing away from the mirror in the fitting room, she held the material up to her chest while Shirley worked at the back zipper and the tiny buttons.
“Oh, this is going to be just breathtaking. It’s a little tight in the bust, but it’s nearly perfect.”
Charlotte sucked in her belly, tempted to argue when she felt the dress cut into the skin under her arms, but she kept her mouth shut. A few minutes later, the dress was on and Charlotte dropped her arms.
“I can’t wait for you to stand on the dais to see yourself,” Shirley said, her voice full of excitement. Ridiculous, Charlotte thought, since she wasn’t even the bride. Shirley really should crank down her enthusiasm. The woman peeked her head out the door and spoke to Amy and Dean. “Are you ready? She looks gorgeous.”
Charlotte looked up to the ceiling and sighed before she felt the gentle tug of Shirley grabbing her hand.
“Turn gently and step on out.”
The skirt of the dress was slightly fuller than it had looked on the hanger, and it gave a delicious swish around Charlotte’s bare legs as she stepped forward. Glancing down, she saw that her cleavage looked quite nice from her view. The sleeves of the dress were three quarter, off-the-shoulder, with a delicate lace overlay. Flower appliqués ran across her chest, making it appear as though her décolletage was surrounded by blooms.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped around the large doorway and followed Shirley into the main viewing room. Dean was staring off in the other direction, but suddenly their eyes met in an angled mirror across the room and he jerked his head around to face her. Charlotte sucked in a breath when she heard Amy gasp.
Dean stood up and walked toward her.
Reluctantly, Charlotte picked up the skirt on each side and headed for the platform. She felt lighter when she realized Shirley had lifted the back of the dress. Dean held out a hand to her as she stepped onto the dais.
She let the skirt drop in a whoosh and Shirley flittered around her circumference, arranging it. Charlotte looked up and felt her legs wobble.
Oh my … this dress. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever had on her body. Now she knew why people always said, “Sometimes you have to just try it on.” She’d completely dismissed this exquisite creation out of hand after just one glance at it on the hanger. That was silly, because she’d never felt more beautiful than she did right now. Not even her own dress had made her feel so wonderful.
Dean stepped beside her, his eyes roaming all over her reflection in the mirror.
“Do you think Alex will love it?” Charlotte asked quietly.
His mouth dropped open a bit as if he was at a loss for words. “I’m sure she will.”
“Does it make you think of her?” Charlotte asked, meaning … she wasn’t sure what. She supposed, Does it look like something she’d wear, but how does anyone know what kind of wedding dress someone would pick? Not even a bride knew most times until she had it on. When his eyes narrowed, Charlotte realized what a silly thing it was to say.
“Right now it’s hard to think of anything but you,” he whispered, but Charlotte knew that as quiet as the room was, Amy would have heard every word.
She smiled. “Hand me my phone.” He did as she asked and she took a quick photo of the dress for the planning folder.
“What type of shoes do you think Alex will want to wear? A heel? A ballet?” Shirley asked.
The sound pulled Dean’s focus away from Charlotte. As she turned toward the conversation, Charlotte’s eyes met Amy’s for a moment. She knew. Her expression wasn’t angry, more … observational. When she caught Charlotte watching her, she gave her a tight-lipped smile and turned to Shirley.
“Alex isn’t much of a heel girl. I’d guess a ballet would be more her speed.”
Dean nodded. “I’d agree about the heel, but I’ll be honest, I don’t know what you mean when you say ballet.”
“A flat shoe,” Shirley clarified. “Charlotte, dear, didn’t you have flats on when you came in?”
“I did. They’re in the dressing room.”
Dean was still staring at Charlotte when Shirley went to retrieve the shoes.
“I told you the dress was beautiful, did I not?” Amy interjected, stepping somewhat in between Charlotte and Dean. “Alex’s arms and, uh … upper body are smaller, so it will lay nicely.”
Charlotte bit her lip to keep from commenting. This wasn’t about her at all and she knew Amy was trying to get a dig in since the comment was completely unnecessary.
“It looks beautiful on you, Charlotte,” Dean said.
“Thanks.” She loved it, too, and in that moment, she had a fleeting thought, the likes of which she’d never thought to have again. She could clearly imagine walking down an aisle in this dress. Dean smiling and waiting for her at the front in a handsome, perfectly fitted suit. Was it possible that she’d reached a turning point? That she might finally be willing to give marriage, and even a wedding, another try?
Her thoughts were shaken by the sound of Dean’s phone ringing. He dug it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing.
“What’s wrong?” Amy asked.
“It says PRIVATE NUMBER. I’ve only had one other call like that before.” He quickly accepted the call and said hello.
Amy and Charlotte watched as he turned away from them, seeking privacy he wasn’t going to get in the big open space. Shirley continued working as she knelt down on the dais. Charlotte kept her eyes on Dean as she lifted the dress on instinct and then her foot.
“Alex? Hang on. Slow down, tell me what’s wrong.” Dean’s voice was panicked, but Charlotte couldn’t help feeling that if Alex was physically speaking to him, things couldn’t be too bad. She was alive, at least, but something was wrong.
When Dean dropped his head and leaned a hand onto a nearby chair for support, she knew she was right.
“Aww, God … no, Al. How?” The instant raw heartache in his voice made Charlotte’s breath catch. The sound urged Amy to his side, which made Charlotte curse the fact that this stupid dress had her weighed down. She watched as Amy wrapped her arms around his hunched shoulders. “Alex, did they do everything they can?”
Charlotte lifted a hand to her mouth, and now even Shirley stood up, her eyes full of fear.
“Her fiancé,” Shirley whispered. Charlotte could only nod in response, never taking her eyes off Dean.
“I’m so sorry, Al. I’m so … so damn sorry.” His voice came out so wrecked, Charlotte felt like she couldn’t breathe.
She lifted the dress off the floor and clumsily made her way toward Dean, coming around the chair to face him. His eyes were pinched shut as he listened, and this close even Charlotte could hear Alex’s tearful panicked voice, although she couldn’t make out her words. He sucked in a deep ragged breath.
“I know, sis, I know.”
A sob came from the other end of the line, and Dean’s eyes squeezed shut hard. “Don’t cry, Al. God, I’m so damn sorry.”
A pause and then Dean turned away from everyone once more. It felt like all of them were eavesdropping on something sacred and private. “I love you, Alex. We will get through this. I promise. You won’t be alone.”
The conversation wrapped up after a few more murmurs, and when he disconnected, all three women began to inch toward him. Dean lifted his right arm to the side and sent his phone flying into the cushioned chair across the room with a booming “Fuck!”
Charlotte flinched. He lifted his hands to his face and dug the heel of his palms into his eyes, and in that moment she had never wanted to touch anyone so badly. Before she could lift the blasted dress and move, Amy rushed to his side.
“Babe, what happened to Nate?”
Dean’s arms flopped to his sides, and his head went limp. For a long moment he was silent, obviously fighting back emotion. Charlotte took quiet steps toward them.
“She doesn’t deserve this, Amy.” His head shook back and forth, still facing the carpet. “We got her through one loss. I don’t think she can handle it again.”
At the admission, Amy began to well up with tears. She latched onto his limp arm. “She will. We’ll help her. She’s stronger than you think. Tell me what happened.”
“A helicopter accident.”
Dean allowed Amy to wrap her arms around him, even put his own across her back as she began to openly cry.
Charlotte stood there for a moment, tears filling her own eyes as she watched the man she loved take comfort from his ex-wife. Alex was … theirs. He’d told Charlotte that he and Amy had practically raised her. Been her makeshift parental unit through adolescence. They were all Alex had now. Charlotte had never even met the woman and yet the pain of her loss was so acute, her own chest clamped down in fresh sorrow.
Turning, she motioned for Shirley—who was frozen to the floor, eyes wide—to follow her back into the dressing room. Once the door was shut they began to undress Charlotte in complete silence. There really was nothing left to say. If Nate was dead, the dress was no longer needed.
Dean’s and Amy’s voice could suddenly be heard through the dressing room curtain, and on instinct Charlotte froze. Shirley did the same so they could listen.
“Is she coming home?” Amy asked.
Dean sighed. “Yeah. With Nate’s body. They’ll go to Georgia. Damn … Nate’s poor family. God, I can’t fucking believe this.” His words were full of frustration and anger, and so much sadness.
“We need to make arrangements then. Meet her down there.”
Charlotte continued to eavesdrop, her palms holding the lace material to her breasts. She met Shirley’s eyes, and the other woman gave Charlotte a warm but sad smile then patted her arm.
“I’m gonna need you, Amy,” Dean said quietly. Charlotte wondered if he was trying not to be heard. “Alexis is going to need you.”
“I’m here. Here for both of you. We’re a family.”
Charlotte’s eyes pinched shut and she quickly began tugging the dress down her body. She refused to stand here, another minute, in another wedding dress, while another man realized he no longer needed her.
Once again, there would be no wedding.