Mid Life Love: At Last (Mid Life Love #2)(33)

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 inside 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 dick. One. Dick.”

“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 rolled her eyes. “But guess what? It will be raunchy. It will be over the top. There will be dicks everywhere, and goddamnit Claire you will f**king 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 br**sts, 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.”