Page 10 of The Seemingly Impossible Love Life of Amanda Dean

Mandy gestured to her face. “I should probably finish—”

“Yeah, go. We have plenty of time.” Ashley plopped down into one of the overstuffed chairs in the main room as Mandy retreated to the bathroom.

It was quiet in there—aside from the gentle hum of the fan—but the sound soothed Mandy more than it annoyed her. How many times had she stood in front of a bathroom mirror questioning if what she was about to do would really turn out the way she wanted?

And how many of those times did things go her way?

Not as many as Mandy wanted to admit. But didn’t that mean she was due? That now was her time, and the universe would find a way to start to balance it out for her? As she smudged a shimmering peach powder on her eyelid, Mandy could almost feel her spirits rise. If today was meant to be awful and terrible, at least she would look fabulous while it happened. Except, crap. Had she used a different color on her other eye? She had been so focused she didn’t even realize what color combinations she’d used on each eye until it was done, and what a look that was. She got a makeup wipe out of its little bag, carefully removed the offending color, and started over.

“Margaritas are here,” Ashley yelled from the other room.

Mandy stared at herself in the mirror. “We should’ve ordered a pitcher.”

“Oh, come on, girl. You got this. I’ve seen the things you can do with an eyeliner pencil. You’ll be done in no time, and everything is going to be okay.”

How could she be so sure? “You’re not married, are you?”

“Oh god, no. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know true love when I see it. You know I’d tell you if I thought this was a mistake.”

It was true, Ashley never lied to Mandy, not even the time she toned Mandy’s hair and it turned an awful ashy blue; Ashley straight-up said it looked like shit and that she would fix it. And she did.

“I’m gonna finish getting set up in here, and you just take your time.” Ashley ducked out of the doorway and left Mandy alone with her thoughts.

“All brides are stressed on their wedding day,” Ashley shouted from the other room like she was reading Mandy’s mind. “This is all totally normal.”

Hearing that allowed Mandy to calm down just enough to get into a groove with her makeup. And just like Ashley said, in no time at all it was finished.

She quickly cleaned up all her palettes, grabbed her cell, and headed toward the main room. But before she could even clear the doorway, her cell rang, and when she checked the screen, dread sank into Mandy’s stomach.

There could be only one reason her wedding planner was calling right now, so before Mandy even pressed the phone to her ear, she braced herself for bad news.

“Candy?” Mandy tentatively answered.

“I don’t want you to stress out”—too late—“but there is a little issue with the catering. It seems the boat that goes out each morning to catch fish for the day hasn’t come back—”

“What do you mean the boat didn’t come back? Where did it go?” Mandy tried to keep her voice level as her hand gripped her cell phone tighter and she began to pace.

“Listen, Mandy. There’s no need to panic,” Candy reasoned. “I’ve already reached out to my contacts, and I’m on track to get the freshest halibut you’ve ever eaten. No one will miss the golden trout. I promise.” She sounded so sensible, so relaxed.

Mandy wanted to shake her.

“I don’t think I can handle it if anything else goes wrong today.” Mandy’s chest was heavy. “Candy, promise me there won’t be anything else.”

Candy giggled. “Girl. Do. Not. Stress. This is what you payme the big bucks for. Let me do the worrying, and you just finish getting ready. I’ll take care of everything.”

Tell that to the fishermen who were now lost somewhere in the ocean. What was the name of the boat? TheTitanic?

“I’m going to take your silence to mean you’re good with the change and we’re moving forward,” Candy said.

No, the silence was because Mandy couldn’t breathe, let alone talk about fish options.

“Go drink a mimosa. I got this. Candy out.” And with that she disconnected.

Mandy walked past Ashley—who sat patiently on the couch—to the ice bucket holding the champagne, and chugged straight from the bottle.

“Easy now,” Ashley said. “Let’s order some sandwiches or something.” Before Mandy could answer, Ashley was already on the phone with room service again.

It was silly to get this upset over fish, but to Mandy it was just another thing to go wrong. Cold shower, missing bacon, Mom and her stupid shoes, forgetting her eye shadow palette, gray skies, now a missing boat, then what? Maybe there’d be a monsoon? Or an earthquake that would open up a huge hole in the earth and she’d fall inside, never to be seen again.

---