Page 26 of Pierced Pages
“Hey, I’m there for you, and you’re my friend.”
Gerri put her lunch bag on her arm and grabbed her travel mug. She stood facing Danielle and let out a sigh. Not one of judgment or annoyance. It was a sigh of concern.
“I’m just worried about you.”
“I know,” Danielle said. “But I can handle myself with a bunch of bigots.”
“I’m more worried about your heart,” Gerri said. “If neither of you wants a relationship, and this builds more feelings, someone’s going to get hurt.”
“No one’s getting hurt. We both know what this is going in. It’ll be fine.” Danielle smiled. “Plus, I’ve been promised top-tier wedding food.”
Gerri laughed as the bell rang for the next class. “Then why didn’t you lead with that?”
Chapter 11
Morgan
“Do. Not. Laugh.”
Morgan slid the rose-colored curtain aside and stepped out of the changing room. There was a moment of silence during which Jen pressed her lips together as she crossed her legs and studied what was before her.
“I’m not laughing.”
“But you want to.” Morgan looked down at the icy blue fabric puddling around her feet. “I would laugh at me.”
“Stop,” Jen said. “There’s nothing to laugh at except your visible discomfort over a beautiful dress.”
Morgan frowned at her friend. “It’s bad.”
“No, it isn’t.” Jen tilted her head a little while Morgan turned sideways to see herself from all angles in the mirrors. “It isn’t a flattering color on you, and the sizing is obviously off a little, but that’ll all work out when the real one comes in. What color did you say your sister picked?”
“Sage something.”
The bridal shop seamstress, who had remained quietly observant in the corner until then, said, “I believe the order said Dusty Sage.”
Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know why they call any of these colors dusty. Like, what’s appealing about a dusty old rose?”
“More important question,” Jen said. “How do you feel about the shape of it? Is it comfortable? I’m sure you’re happy it isn’t a low-neckline design.”
“Small miracle, yes.” Morgan gently pulled the sides away from her legs and let them drop again. The A-line silhouette and halter top were super comfortable. She’d been worried it might be a low neckline or strapless, neither of which she wanted to wear in a room full of strangers when she was already uncomfortable. “It’s fine. Not a fan of the fabric, but that’s just how they are.”
“It looks great on you. Your arms look amazing,” Jen said. “And it’ll look even better once the right color comes in and gets altered.”
Morgan sighed. “I guess. I just thought I was done wearing dresses like this, you know?”
The advantage of being estranged from her family was not having to attend any more political fundraisers or galas or whatever other nonsense she was obligated to appear at. And no more events meant no more fancy dresses. Because, as her mother told her repeatedly, there were no options for her besides dresses, unless she wanted to embarrass her and ruin her whole career.
That was before learning that Morgan’s mere existence could cause those things.
“I get it,” Jen said. “But this time it’s for a good cause.”
“Are you ready for me to take your measurements?”
When Morgan nodded, the seamstress walked over to her. She pulled out her measuring tape while Morgan raised her arms.
“I guess Felicia was excited you agreed to be a bridesmaid.”
Jen shifted in the dusty rose floral sitting chair as she tucked a curly blonde strand behind her ear. She looked a little pale. Even for her. She’d had to miss their Sunday hangout while she was recovering from the flu. Jen didn’t make it to work on Monday either, so Morgan hadn’t filled her in on… everything. She had insisted she was well enough that morning to go with Morgan, but she didn’t look better.
