Page 4 of Fear of Love
“Good,” Josie hiccuped, wiping under her eyes.
“If this is the one, we can have it ready within the month,” the owner of the shop, Lucy said. We’ve kept the poor lady busy today going back and forth with dresses.
“That will be perfect.” Josie gave her a grateful smile. She looked at her reflection one more time and sighed, smoothing her hands down the pearl white material. “Can’t believe I found it.”
“You look beautiful.” I shot her a smile through the mirror. There was no doubt in my mind that her and Wyatt’s wedding was going to be spectacular.
“Thanks for coming today. I know it isn’t really your thing,” Josie started to say, but I shook my head.
“I enjoyed it.” Surprisingly—but I did. It wasn’t as dreadful as I thought it would be.
“Good.” She beamed before stepping down and headed to get changed.
“You know what we should do?” Tasha spoke from her spot beside me, her eyes sparkling.
“What?” I asked, although I had a feeling she was going to say something crazy.
“You know that scene inFriendswhen they’re all sitting in wedding dresses? We should do that. Spend a whole day getting dressed up,” Tasha said.
Mila laughed. “Just sit around in wedding gowns?”
“Why not? We can even scare the guys.” Tasha wiggled her eyebrows.
“We could make it a second bachelorette party,” Mila said almost excitedly. A hard lump formed in the back of my throat, and I tried to swallow it down, but it lingered, going nowhere. Anxiety pricked at my skin. I prayed they weren’t actually serious. Just the thought of wearing a wedding dress made me break out in hives.
Josie came out from the dressing room moments later, back in her regular clothes. “Okay, you guys ready for lunch?”
“Yes, please, I’m starving.” Tasha grabbed her purse. “Rick’s?”
The mention of the best food truck in Toronto had my mouth watering. I would kill for one of their burgers right now, but unfortunately, I had work to do.
“Sorry, guys, I can’t,” I apologized, feeling bad for bailing. “But you go and have fun.”
“You sure?” Josie asked.
“Yeah, sadly work doesn’t stop. But I’ll see you all on Sunday,” I explained.
Grabbing my belongings, I quickly exited before they could talk me into going with them. It was time to convince a flower shop to be interviewed so this month’s issue could be done in time.
2
LYDIA
Stepping out of my car, I stared up at the house in front of me. It was a beautiful two-story home with light brown paneling and brick. Wood beams accented the entryway and the roof, giving it that modern farmhouse look. It was massive and beautiful, not surprising considering the neighborhood. A place surrounded by a towering gate and dotted with other extravagant, oversized homes.
Multiple cars lined the driveway and street, meaning I was the last one to show up. Shivering from the cold breeze, I clenched the bottle of wine in my hands and headed up the steps to the front door. I was thankful I wore shoes and not heels as the frost from earlier this morning hadn’t fully melted yet.
The cold seeped through my sweater as I quickly knocked on the door twice before opening it. As soon as it shut behind me, I let out a soft sigh at the warmth inside. February was always freezing, but I swore it got colder and colder every year.
Once I thawed a little, I looked around the foyer, immediately in love. Tall vaulted ceilings with a beautiful chandelier hung straight ahead. A staircase was to my right, and a wooden door was on my other side. Gorgeous hardwood floors flowed down the hallway where I could hear voices.
Peeking beyond the door that was there and into the room, and noting it was a den, I eyed the beautiful fireplace surrounded by massive built-in bookshelves. The gray couch and chair added to the vibe. It was a reader’s dream.
I stepped out and followed the voices down the hallway, entering the kitchen where my friends stood in intense conversation. It only took a second to learn they were arguing about which fast food place was the best. These were the types of conversations that always seemed to pop up whenever we were all together. A month ago, it was which place had the best french fries.
“Am I interrupting?” I asked, announcing my presence. At the sound of my voice, six heads turned in my direction.
“Lydia,” Trevor Hall, Tasha’s boyfriend, said. He didn’t waste a second before asking, “Which one is better, Wendy’s or McDonald’s?”
