Chapter Twenty-Two
For the next few days, Jamie and I basically shifted into autopilot, jumping from one fitting to another—hemming, trimming, and cinching bridesmaid gowns and the remainder of Victoria’s looks. Our workspace was a revolving door of the who’s who of British society. I knew Jamie well enough to know he was still annoyed from our spat at Victoria’s hen party. He punished me for my bad behavior by leaving for a coffee run right when Annabelle showed up for her final fitting. Maybe he hoped that by leaving us on our own I’d better appreciate the bind we were in because of the reckless decision Perry and I had made to keep our past relationship a secret.
Annabelle’s maid of honor dress was really something special. Jamie’d taken the lead on it and absolutely outdid himself. The final product was elegant and sophisticated with a touch of bohemian whimsy. It was the palest shade of blush organza with similar jeweled embellishments to Victoria’s dress placed only around the waist and down the back of her small train. It complimented every one of Annabelle’s features without detracting from the bride. It was perfect. I unzipped it from the garment bag and brought it to her to try on.
She looked around the room. “Should I go behind there to change?”
“Sorry. Yes, of course.”
A minute or two later, Annabelle came out from behind the curtain. She turned her back to me. “I need your help zipping up this last bit.”
I pulled the zipper up the tight track and she turned around to face me.
“What do you think? It doesn’t need much of anything, does it?” she asked.
I examined the dress from all angles. It fit her like a glove. Jamie really had nailed it.
I grabbed a pair of crystal-covered Louboutins off the table. “These are the shoes you’re planning to wear right?”
She nodded yes and slipped them on. I lifted the bottom of the dress off the ground. “Maybe I’ll shorten it another quarter of an inch just to be on the safe side. It’s a long way up the aisle at Westminster.”
“Ever been there? Westminster?”
“About a billion years ago on one of those greatest hits through Europe tours with my parents,” I answered.
Annabelle stepped up onto the pedestal. “It’s beautiful, but so the opposite of the type of place in which I’d want to get married. I used to tell Perry I wanted to elope in some exotic locale like Fiji or Bali. No obligations. No fanfare. Just us.”
I thought back to the dozens of conversations Perry and I had about where we should get married. New York or London? In the city or the country? A big wedding or more intimate one? We could never agree, and after several rounds of arguments we always ended up tabling the discussion for another time.
“He humors me, but deep down, I think he’s more of a traditionalist. He might even like a little fanfare,” she added.
I smiled and knelt on the floor to begin pinning around the bottom of the dress.
Annabelle looked down to me. “Hey, Gigi, I wanted to apologize for laying all that stuff on you the other night at Victoria’s hen party. We barely know each other and I could tell I made you uncomfortable. I had way too much to drink.”
“We’ve all been there,” I said, remembering the night I danced on the bar at Rosie’s.
“It’s not like me to come undone like that. I was upset about the fight with Perry and didn’t have a chance to process my feelings about it. Anyway, he wants to table any more conversations about me moving to New York until after the wedding. I think it’s probably for the best.”
Jamie walked in balancing a coffee carrier in his hand. “What’s for the best?”
“Just some girl talk,” Annabelle responded.
“I’m all ears,” Jamie teased.
Annabelle laughed and stepped down from the pedestal. “Are we done?”
“All pinned. Just be careful taking it off,” I said. Annabelle went back to change and Jamie passed me a coffee.
“What’s for the best?” He leaned in and whispered.
“Annabelle and Perry are tabling their issues until after the wedding.”
Jamie raised his eyebrows. “Think we can do the same, Gigi?”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Yes, of course, and I’m sorry,”
Jamie smiled warmly as Annabelle called out asking for some help getting out of the dress.
Jamie set his coffee down on the table. “I’ll go.”
He went to the back corner of the room and I slipped Victoria’s cathedral length veil off the hanger. Jamie had finished off all the edges last night and added the small rhinestones to the very bottom of it. Our hope was that the natural light coming in from the church windows would reflect off of the stones just enough to give a hint of a sparkle without it looking overdone.
Trying on Victoria’s actual wedding dress might be bad luck, but what harm could come from trying on the veil? I searched for the affixed hair comb and slid it into my own hair. I stood up on the pedestal and examined it from every angle. Even in this poor light, I could see it achieved the effect we were looking for—the sun bouncing off of every stone.
“Looks good on you,” a familiar voice said from behind me.
Embarrassed, I pulled the comb out, wrapped the veil over my arm and turned around. Perry was standing in the doorway.
“Looks better on Victoria.” I stepped down from the pedestal and placed the veil back on the hanger.
“Is Annabelle here? She asked me to meet her.”
“She’s getting changed. We just finished her final fitting.”
“Everything ready for the big day?”
“I think so. We have one last meeting with Victoria later today about the wedding dress. She’s already debuted a few of our looks. So far so good.”
“And you’re attending with Gideon?”
I nodded. “I’ll probably be behind the scenes during the ceremony and early part of the reception in case of a dress disaster. I should be able to attend most of it though.”
“We’re performing a number from Elizabeth at the after-hours party.”
“I heard. Which one?”
“The Accession.”
The song was an absolute masterpiece, contrasting Elizabeth’s ascent to the crown with the different revolutions happening throughout England. Perry had mixed choral music from that time period with British new wave punk and created the most thrilling piece in musical theater of the last century—according to the New York Times theater critic. He’d worked on it for close to a year, asking for my input along the way. As soon as he finished it, we both knew he had a masterpiece on his hands.
“One of my favorites.”
“I know,” he said softly.
“Oh good, you found me.” Annabelle emerged from behind the curtain. “Ready for lunch, darling?”
Perry nodded as Annabelle took his hand.
“See you at the wedding,” Perry said.
“Yeah, see you there.”