Page 57 of Shameless in Vegas

Elle gestures with an open palm at Celia. “And you like red, right, Celi?”

Celia cocks her head at a dramatic angle and twirls one of her long, ebony braids around her index finger. “Actually, I’m partial toblack.” She tosses the braid over her shoulder and points with her thumb at a few of the scurrying consultants. “What if we bucked tradition and all dressed in that beatnik get-up?”

Fortuna breaks her captivated silence with a horrified gasp. “No. You cannot wear black orpantsin awedding.”

Celia gathers the fabric into her fists again and sways from side to side. “The guys are all wearing black pants. Maybe we should gender swap it.” She snorts. “I think they’d look great in all this chiffon.”

Elle snickers as she leans back in her chair, and Fortuna casts a gobsmacked glance at her.

“Tell me you are not considering this,cariño.”

Elle laughs loudly and pats Fortuna’s thigh. “Of course I’m not.” She sits up straight again and examines a rack of dresses parked next to our designated mirrored area of the boutique. “Do you want to try on something?” She nods sideways at me. “Or should we have Natalia try a few?”

“Oh.” Fortuna waves her hand. “I will have something made.” She rubs her palm across her slender, but soft middle. “I do not like the way boutique clothing fits me.” She reaches across Elle’s lap to squeeze my hand. “But you should try one on,mijita. If it needs to be altered, we will have to allow enough time for that.”

It’s an equally mindless task to occupy my otherwise full mind, so I tip up the flute, down the rest of the champagne, and stand up.

Approaching the rack of dresses, I pause, skimming over them, and then look back at the women running this frolicsome, yet completely trivial mission. “Which one should I try?”

Fortuna flits her wrist at me. “One that you like,preciosa.You do not have to match the bridal party, but you should wear something that will make you feelmaravillosa.”

I laugh lightly and turn back to the dresses, combing through them.

Well, I’m not going to find a pair of well-worn jeans and a tank top in here,sooo…

I won’t be around to attend Elle and Colin’s post-marriageboda, but none of these people know that. And knowing them the way I have come to over the relatively short time I’ve been around them, I know they’re going to snap photos of me in the dress and send them to Joaquin, so it seems right to pick one he might likeonme.

Given that it’s a beach wedding, all of the dresses are lightweight fabric and either strappy or strapless in an array of vibrant colors. My hand stops on one that features magenta along the bodice and fades in a gradient to complementary pale pink on the skirt, and even I, in my state of anxiety over the impending confrontation I will be solely responsible for, can admit that it ispretty. So, I pull the hanger off the rack and turn to show it to the waiting ladies.

“Ohyes,” Fortuna gushes immediately. “Muy hermosa.”

Elle nods in agreement as Celia drops into the empty chair next to her, still dressed in her gown. “Ilovethat. If you get it, I might even want to borrow it later.”

“Okay.” I glance at Lili, who has picked up her purse to fish out her phone. “Where’s the changing room,manita?”

She looks up and lifts her chin at a mirrored hallway just off to the side from our seating area. “There’s a bunch down that hall for all thenon-brides,” she says with notable snark.

I offer her a warm smile as I scoop up the handles of my purse and heft it off the floor. “Thanks.” Glancing over my shoulder, I say to the other ladies, “Be right back,” but it appears they’re already enthralled by a couple of wedding magazines and the fat wedding planning binder Fortuna assembled for Elle.

I cradle the dress in my arms as I head down the long hall of changing rooms, noticing they don’t have any kind of marker that indicates if they’re occupied or not. There’s no way to tell if I’m about to barge in on a half-naked bridesmaid, so I’m basically right next to the neon red Exit sign at the end of the hallway when I find a mirrored door that’s slightly ajar and decide it’s a safe bet. Shifting the dress to one arm, I hang my purse on one of the hooks and then latch the door behind me.

Despite it being a warm summer afternoon, I brought a jacket to wear over my fancy, sleeveless sundress because of the tendency of these high-end boutiques to blast the AC. At the end of the hall, it’s even colder, and chills scatter my arms and legs as I slip out of my clothes to step into the dress. The bodice is a little snug, causing the strapless, sweetheart neckline to push up a little extra cleavage, but I manage to zip it up.

If I were actually going to be wearing this to the wedding, I would probably want it altered for the sake of comfort, but again, I won’t be at that wedding. There’s a good possibility I might actually be dead by the time this wedding rolls around, but you know who won’t be?

Joaquin.

I will see to that.

The tables did not turn.

I’m about to flip them over.

Right onto Xavier and all of his greasy, shitbag bootlickers, who will never seemecoming.

And thus, the move I have to make.

When I last saw Xavier, he committed an act of violence in his latest paltry attempt to dominate me. In contrast, shortly thereafter, Joaquin gently wrapped his body around mine and apologized for the pain I was in; the pain that had reached depths of which he was completely ignorant.

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