Page 130 of Sweet as Sin (Bad Habit 1)
Nico’s eyes grew hot. “You tellin’ me I haven’t been takin’ care of business, darlin’? You missin’ out on somethin’ you been needin’?”
I bit my lip and made my eyes go big and dreamy, in the way I knew he couldn’t resist. “Let’s just say I’ve been very, very bad. And I need you to make it all better.”
Faster than I could blink, Nico scooped me into his arms, and tossed me over his shoulder. He headed for the enormous master bathroom with its spacious infinity tub. “Careful what you wish for, baby,” he said, and gave my ass a brisk swat.
I held out my hand, enjoying the sparkle of the enormous diamond on my ring finger, and grinned.
Yes, things were definitely looking up.
“Come on, lovey, suck it in! You know the drill; it’s not like we haven’t been through this before!”
I stared at Kenji’s reflection in the wall of mirrors as he stood behind me in the dressing room of the bridal salon, tugging in frustration at the reluctant zipper of the elaborate gown I was trying on. “I hate to disappoint you, Kenji, but I’m not wearing anything to my wedding that even slightly resembles that sausage casing you stuffed me into for the band’s video. This zipper is trying to tell us something. As in, give it up, sister, the carbs have finally won.”
His scoff sounded as if he was trying to expel something lodged in his throat. “I won’t be defeated by twelve inches of tiny metal teeth! You’re wearing Monique Lhuillier when you walk down that aisle, Kitty Kat, or nothing at all!”
Grace, with crystal champagne flute in hand, sat beside Chloe on a white tufted sofa nearby, her feet propped on a mirrored coffee table covered in bridal couture books. Smiling, she said, “Somehow I doubt Nico would object to that.”
Chloe frowned. “I’m still unclear on this. Why exactly is wearing a Monique Lhuillier dress so important?”
Hands on hips, Kenji straightened and glared at the offending zipper. “Because that’s the designer Kat wore the day she met Nico. It’s good luck.”
“I thought the good luck was supposed to be, ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue’?”
Kenji waved his hand. “Those, too. But in the theater community it’s considered good luck to wear the same thing for a callback that you wore to the original audition. So I’m including as many good-luck superstitions as I can for this wedding. Because if this morning is any indication, we’re going to need as much help as we can get.”
Chloe snorted. “In that case, Kat should be wearing flip-flops, a denim mini, and a shirt that’s losing the fight with her cleavage.”
“Thank you, Joan Rivers.” I turned to and fro on the carpeted riser, examining my reflection. It was too bad about the zipper, because the dress was incredibly beautiful. But I was determined to be comfortable on the happiest day of my life, even if I did have to wear a denim mini.
“You’re welcome, Dolly Parton,” replied Chloe. To Kenji, she said with interest, “You used to be in the theater?”
He turned to look at her with raised brows. “What, you thought I used to be a mechanic?”
She looked him up and down, examining his red silk vest, leopard-print tie, and white skinny jeans. “I was thinking more along the lines of magician. You have the look of a man who could pull a rabbit out of his hat.”
Though I wasn’t convinced it was a compliment, Kenji beamed. “Oh, honey, that’s so sweet!”
Grace hid her smile behind her glass of champagne.
Into the pristine dressing room glided a saleswoman so thin she’d be invisible if she turned sideways. She had a slash of crimson lips, blonde hair scraped into a severe bun at the nape of her neck, and so much mascara it looked as if two hairy tarantulas were perched on her eyelids. “And how are we doing? Anything else I can get you? Different selections? More champagne?”
Looking at my rear end, Kenji muttered, “Spanx?”
Grace said calmly, “Shut up, Kenji, or I’ll hide your lip gloss and tell everyone those Prada boots you’re wearing are knockoffs from Payless.”
He gasped.
I ignored them both. “Unfortunately, the last few dresses I’ve tried on have been a bit too tight, so maybe I could try a few more one size larger? This same general style?”
The tarantulas on the sale
swoman’s eyelids fluttered. “Of course. I’ll be right back.” She turned and silently glided out.
Chloe watched her go. “Poor thing. When was the last time she’s eaten, do you think?”
Grace laughed. “I don’t know about eating, but hearing Kat say, ‘one size larger,’ looked as if it might drive her to drink.”
I gathered the heavy silk skirts of the dress and stepped off the platform. “Speaking of, give me some of that champagne. I’m going to need it to get through the rest of this afternoon. Shopping for wedding dresses is about as much fun as getting a Brazilian wax.”
