The Taming of the Vamp by Jaye Wells

Author:Jaye Wells [Wells, Jaye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-10-28T16:00:00+00:00

I hid behind the stall door, holding it shut with both hands.

“Come on, Raven, you have to come out,” Syd demanded.

I glanced over my shoulder at the mirror one more time and tried not to laugh.

“Hell, no!”

“If I could walk around looking like a crazy chicken, you can handle this.”

“Huh-uh.”

“I’ll buy you a mocha with extra whipped cream if you come out.”

Okay, now she was playing dirty. I didn’t know how she had even talked me into putting the monstrosity on my body. One minute we were laughing over some of the most hideous dresses ever to see the light of day, and the next thing I knew she’d talked me into trying some of them on with her. I decided right then and there that Sydney Worth was trouble.

“All right, fine, but there better not be any photographic equipment within a three-block radius.”

She giggled. “Just come out already.”

I slowly opened the door and poked my head out, making sure no one was around. The dressing rooms were off a large room with raised platforms and mirrors. The wall divided the area from the rest of the store. When I didn’t see any of the overeager employees rushing around or other brides-to-be, I stepped out.

Syd’s eyes widened, and then she started laughing so hard she doubled over and slapped her knee. I looked down at myself and couldn’t blame her.

“Where are your sheep?” she said, her eyes glistening with mirth.

I wasn’t sure why any woman would choose a Little Bo Peep theme for her wedding. The hideous thing weighed a ton and was covered with yards and yards of white lace ruffles and pink satin. Something told me that Syd’s reaction, though, was due to the bonnet and crook that completed the ensemble.

“That’s funny coming from a woman who looks like an escapee from an aviary,” I said, chuckling.

Syd fluffed the large white plumes that sprung from the bodice of her dress. “I kind of like them. I feel like a show girl.”

We stood next to each other in front of the mirrored wall and laughed helplessly. It didn’t take long for a nosy salesperson to come back to see what all the noise was about. Unfortunately, she arrived at the same time I was making a particularly colorful comment about carrying a blow-up sheep as my bouquet.

Hands on hips, the blue-haired lady, whose name tag read “Doris,” gasped with outrage.

“Do you mind? This is a respectable establishment,” she said, glaring at us.

“Lady, the fact you carry dresses like these says otherwise,” I said, trying to fight a new round of laughter.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave and never come back to this store,” Doris said, raising her chin indignantly.

Ten minutes later, back in our own clothes, we spilled out the front door of the store nearly hysterical with laughter.

“That’s a first,” Syd said as she gasped for breath. “I’ve never known anyone to get banned from a bridal shop before.”

Wiping tears from my cheeks, I said, “It’s too bad.

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