Collide (Collide, #1)(70)
“I’ll take an Absolut and cranberry with a twist of lime.”
Gavin motioned for the waiter and gave him her drink order.
Upon closer inspection, Gavin found her to be as beautiful as Colton said. Her rich chestnut hair was glossy despite being slightly mussed, and her light almond-shaped eyes edged with thick lashes would’ve normally had him pulling out a line or two—but not tonight. Unfazed and unaffected, Gavin kept the conversation with her to a minimum, instead focusing on the internal battle he was currently having with himself over Emily. Colton made sure to keep her entertained though, occasionally throwing a jab of humor directed at Gavin every so often.
As the evening wore on, Gavin noticed that Stephanie was staring in his direction more intently. Wanting to crucify himself for paying her no mind, he ordered another few drinks and tried to focus on her a little more. He learned that she was in school for journalism and would graduate the following May. Along with an older and younger brother, she was the middle child in her family and grew up in Lindenhurst, a moderately sized town on Long Island. She enjoyed fine arts, music, traveling, good food, family, friends, and lazy summer days.
Still, with all of the fine attributes that she clearly possessed, Gavin couldn’t stop comparing her to what he wanted the most, craved the most, and what he unequivocally needed the most.
Emily…
There was no chill running down his spine when Stephanie spoke. Nothing lit up inside of him when she laughed. Even the slight touch she grazed on his arm every so often while she was talking did absolutely nothing for him.
Nothing.
For this, he felt like a total * for even carrying on a conversation with her because it was clear to him that she was interested.
And more clear to him that he wasn’t.
Nonetheless—whether from the alcohol that had accomplished its purpose or because he’d finally convinced himself that having Emily in his life was a bad idea—by the end of the evening, Gavin found himself exchanging numbers with Stephanie.
“Did she really have to come with us?” Olivia asked, her face coiled in disgust.
“Do you think I want her here?” Emily whispered, poking her head out from the bridal changing room. Dillon’s mother was fanning through endless amounts of wedding dresses with one of the consultants. “She wanted to come, and I wasn’t about to argue with her. Besides, she has some kind of dinner benefit that she’s attending at seven o’clock, so she won’t be here that much longer.”
Snapping her gum, Olivia rolled her eyes. “The woman’s like a f*cking plague, devouring anything in her sight. I’ve never been able to stand her.”
Emily drew in a breath and turned her back to Olivia. She studied the Reem Acra wedding dress she was wearing. Turning from side to side, she asked, “How does this one look?”
Olivia took a lock of her blonde hair and twirled it around her finger. “Want honesty or flattery?”
“Come on, Liv,” she said, placing her hands on her hips.
“You look like a damn mermaid in it.”
Emily shook her head.
“Well, you asked for it, chick, and I chose the honesty route,” Olivia chirped with a shrug of her shoulders. As if a light bulb went off in her head, she added, “Oh, and I have an idea. How’s about you actually pick out your wedding dress since it’s your wedding? I swear if Plague Bitch comes in here with another f*cking dress that she insists you try on, I’m dropping her right here in this boutique and beating her ass down.”
“Can you please calm down?”
“No, Emily, I will not calm down. You have my head so f*cked right now with this whole wedding thing that I don’t even know what to think.”
Pressing her fingers against her temples, she closed her eyes. “What do you want me to say, Olivia?”
“I want you to tell me again why you’re rushing into this. It’s still not registering quite right in my brain. I’ll be honest though. I give Dingleberry props for hounding you for a decision when he said he’d give you the time you needed. But, really, Emily…November? It’s the first damn week of September already.”
“I told you, Liv. Dillon’s the last grandchild to get married, and they don’t think his grandmother’s going to make it past six months. She’s pretty sick right now,” she replied, motioning for Olivia to help unbutton her. “His family wants her to see him get married.”
Olivia reluctantly stood up and padded her way over. “Right, because you should base your future on his ancient fossil grandmother that might croak an hour after the wedding.”
“That’s not the only reason, and you know it. Do you know how long the wait is to have a reception at the Waldorf Astoria? Three years, Olivia. Dillon’s parents have connections, and there was a cancellation. That was the available date, so we took it.”
Olivia helped her slide out from the dress. “I’m gonna say two more things whether you like it or not.”
“As I expected you would,” she sighed, reaching for an airy chiffon A-line gown from a hanger. It was something she’d chosen.
“One, there would’ve been nothing wrong with waiting three years to get into the Waldorf if that’s the time you needed to really think this through.” Emily went to speak, but was silenced by Olivia smashing her finger against her lips. She then placed her hands on Emily’s shoulders and stared deep into her unblinking green eyes. “And two, you failed to mention loving Dillon as one of your reasons, friend.”