Page 2 of Trash the Dress

He nods as he pulls glasses down and gets to work making the fruity concoction. He notices me watching and says, “I’ll get them over to your table in a few minutes. You don’t have to wait.”

“I don’t mind. I can take them over there when you’re done,” I tell him.

He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

“So, this is your bar?” It comes out as a question.

“It is,” he answers in a clipped tone.

“It’s nice,” I say.

He grunts in response.

“What? You don’t think it’s nice?” I ask.

“I don’t need you to pretend that you like my bar. You’re from the city. I know my little modest, country bar doesn’t do it for someone like you,” he says in a deep voice that hits me in the chest.So what? He has a sexy voice.

“Someone like me? I’m not pretending anything. I like the atmosphere. It feels homier than any bar I’ve been to in the city. Not everyone is who they seem to be on the outside,” I say quickly.

He almost snorts and I spy a smirk attempting to touch his lips, but it’s not quite a smile. When he finishes the drinks, he glances up at me again. “You don’t have to try and get to know me just because I’m the photographer for your wedding either. But you should know, it’s been a long time since I photographed one, and my work might not meet your expectations.”

“Why don’t you think it’ll meet my expectations?” I ask.

“Because I don’t believe in love, Scarlett. It’s hard for my work to reflect otherwise, especially when I know nothing about you and Eric as a couple. The last wedding I photographed was for a good friend. Hers turned out well because I knew their story and could see the love between them. Once upon a time, I could make a picture say anything I wanted, whether it was true or not, but now… I don’t have that magic touch anymore.”

“Why don’t you believe in love?” I can’t help but ask.

“It’s hard to believe in something that showed you the meaning of the word heartless. I’ll have the drinks over in a minute,” he says, attempting to dismiss me.

I start to turn and walk away but decide not to. Instead, I lean a little closer to him as his gaze penetrates mine. “Maybe the person who is supposed to make you believe in love hasn’t found you yet. Maybe you gave too much power to someone you shouldn’t have.”

He blinks a few times and then he laughs. It’s a cynical laugh, but it comes with a smile, and that means I successfully completed my dare.

His laugh disappears almost as suddenly as it came on. “When you’ve been burned the way I have, your heart is never the same. In fact, you might say I’m heartless now when it comes to the subject of love. Nice try at a pep talk though.” He winks at me as he puts all our glasses on a tray.

“Gabby, take these to table nine, please,” he says to the waitress behind me.

“Sure thing,” she replies. Her eyes sparkle as her gaze rakes over her boss and then lands on me. Once it does, her smile turns less than perky. It makes me wonder if he has a thing going with his waitress. And for someone so clearly against love, it’d have to be purely physical. I find myself almost pitying her if that’s the case. She’s too young and pretty to get hung up on such a cynical man.

As I walk away, I glance back over my shoulder and see him chatting with another customer. I hope he finds the person who will make him believe in love again. No matter how heartless he thinks he is, we all want love. We all deserve that one person who puts us first and makes our heart beat a little faster…the one we risk forever for.

CHAPTER ONE

Scarlett

This is it. Today is my wedding day. I could barely sleep last night. I’ve had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach since the rehearsal dinner. Is marrying Eric the right choice?

The morning was full of things designed to relax me. A massage, a facial, a manicure, pedicure, and even two cups of chamomile tea. Now, as I stand in front of the floor-length mirror and see myself as a bride, I can’t help but remember the subtle shift in Eric’s behavior last night. He’s been a little “off” for the last month or so in my opinion. Up until last night, I wrote it off as stress from planning this wedding or even last-minute jitters.

I’m left wondering if I should call the whole thing off when my dad knocks on the door. “Sweetie, it’s time,” he says as he enters my changing room at the church. This is the church I grew up in, so it was the obvious choice when we were looking for locations. I’d always wanted to say my vows here.

He pauses when I turn around and takes in my appearance. My white dress is fitted until it reaches my knees, and thenflares out. It’s sleeveless and the bodice is intricately beaded. It’s stunning. Instead of a traditional veil, I’m wearing a simple yet elegant hair pin on the top of my low-set bun and I have small tendrils loose around my face. This hairstyle and dress are beautiful, but they aren’t what I dreamed of picking for myself. It feels too tight, like I can’t take a breath.

Eric’s mom steered me toward this ensemble under the pretense of knowing her son and what he wanted his bride to look like. I like his mom, but she can be a bit overbearing. Nonetheless, she persuaded me to heed her advice.

Dad’s lip quivers as he strides closer to me. “Sweetie, you’re a vision in white.” He hugs me to him. Then I hear Mama’s sniffle on the other side. I pull back to look at her and she’s dabbing the corner of her eye with a tissue.

Dad wipes his eyes as Mama steps into our circle. It’s always been the three of us. My mother is soft spoken and basically a saint. I don’t think she’s ever stepped a toe over the line of right and wrong. My dad has never pretended to be perfect, but he’s always been someone I look up to and I have always feared somehow letting him down. He’s someone I consider to be “real.”

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