Page 52 of Magnetic God

“Well, there just so happens to be a gala this Friday that is sold out. I originally told the person hosting the gala that I couldn’t go because I didn’t have a babysitter.”

The gala is to celebrate Hannah Lee Bridal’s fifth year of being in business. When I look back, it’s amazing to see how far I’ve come. There were times in that first year when I didn’t know if I was going to be able to stay open. I went from a small rental space in a shopping strip that my dad paid the deposit for to a building that I own with over 5000 square feet. Everything from the furniture to the decorations were picked by me. So, yeah, I’m celebrating my success with a gala. There’s going to be food, a showcase of some of my most talked-about weddings, entertainment, and networking.

I’m grinning as I say, “And now you and Matt can go?”

“Yes.”

“Well, the person hosting the gala always sets aside two tickets for her best friend and her best friend’s husband, so you’re in luck.”

Jess grins. “Excellent.”

“Are we good?”

“Yeah.” She pauses. “I just worry about you, you know? You work so hard, and you never take time for yourself. I wish you’d get out there and date.”

I snort. “Well, my last attempt at dating didn’t go too well. He couldn’t even remember that I was allergic to shellfish and took me to a seafood restaurant where he ordered lobster.”

“What a jerk!”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“So, you’re not seeing him anymore?”

I shake my head. “Not really. He’s coming to the gala, but only because he’s hoping to rub elbows with some of my clients and I didn’t have it in me to tell him he couldn’t attend.”

“You’re better than me, friend. I would have told him not to show his face. Did he even seem bothered that you’re not seeing each other anymore?”

“No.” I grin. “He clearly doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Clearly.” She stands. “Well, now that I know we’re good, I need to get home to my baby. I don’t trust Matt even if it is a dude-day.”

“I’m glad you stopped by.”

“Me too.” She wags her finger at me. “Just don’t ignore me again.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

“Good. See you on Friday.”

When she’s gone, I lean back in my chair. I’m going to have to tell her about Brooks. Soon, too. Because there’s a chance he might be at the gala since all of my clients were invited. But that’s a bridge I’ll cross when I get to it.

My head throbs, and it’s not from the lack of sleep from finalizing my gala. No, it’s because of Jacqueline Chanel Minty-Smith. The Bridezilla of all Bridezillas. She’s walking past the dresses, sneering at each one. We’ve been at this for two days. Usually, most brides know what they want their wedding dress to look like. Not Jacqueline. No, she wants to see so many options that it’s going to take forever to find her dream dress. If it even exists. I’m starting to doubt it.

“None of these are acceptable.”

“You said you wanted the very best from France.” I point to the racks. “These are right off the runway from Paris Fashion Week. Some of these are right from the designer’s shops, which means you’re the first person to see them.”

“They all look so… basic. I’m anything but basic.” She spins to face me. “I thought you were the best.”

“I am the best.”

“Then I know you’ll get me what I’m looking for. Now, let’s bring in my bride’s maids. Surely, you’ll have something for them.”

Renee meets my gaze, and I nod. She exits and then returns with two of the four bride’s maids. The other two weren’t available to be here until next week, which is par for the course with this wedding. Out of the two that are here, I really like one and really dislike the other.

Isabetta, or Isa, as she told me to call her, smiles at me. “Wow. There are so many choices.”

Jacqueline turns to Isa. “Don’t worry if you can’t find your size.”

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