California Dreamin' 01 - Loving the Ladies' Man by Canary Kristin

Author:Canary, Kristin [Canary, Kristin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B098KT4L2B
Publisher: Dreaming of You Press
Published: 2021-07-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Remind me to never be a bridesmaid again.

At the ripe age of thirty-two, I don’t know how I’ve managed to avoid the duty thus far, but as I sit here a few hours into the reception, fanning myself with a discarded dinner menu—my bare feet propped up on an empty chair—I can honestly say I’m grateful that none of my closest friends has ever gotten married yet.

Or maybe it’s just that Stephanie has kind of been a Bridezilla.

Not only did she ask us to stay super late after the rehearsal dinner last night finishing up wedding favors, but all eight of the bridesmaids (yes, eight!) had to be at her beachside hotel room at seven a.m. sharp this morning. We also each had to bring a brunch item to share. My offering of donuts was not looked upon kindly by the matchstick women serving as the other bridesmaids (so I ate three … shhh, don’t tell!).

Then, we had hair and makeup done by professionals, photos, gifts, and a thousand other little errands that I can’t recall now as a host of drunk people do the Macarena on the dance floor and I hide out at an empty table next to another occupied by Stephanie’s relatives who are too old to dance.

The hotel ballroom is exceptionally gorgeous, with an entire wall of windows facing the ocean and a balcony overlooking the beach below. Decor-wise, the coral and white accents are divine—I really can’t imagine a more beautiful wedding. Somehow, I made it through the ceremony and dinner without feeling too sorry for myself. I just tried to focus on being the bigger person, even when Stephanie snapped at me for not knowing how to properly tie up her bustle. (She promptly apologized and blamed it on the stress of her big day, so all is well now.)

And I’ve tried very hard not to miss Connor tonight. During a lull in visitors to the head table, Stephanie asked me where he was and I simply said he couldn’t make it after all. Of course, after our “chat” on Wednesday, he tried several times to talk to me about the wedding, but I went home early and then took off Thursday and yesterday to help with wedding stuff. I know he just felt bad he couldn’t hold up his end of the bargain, especially since I’ve spent so much time this last month critiquing his manuscript. But it was my call.

My heart on the line.

Not that he knows that.

I sigh and take another sip of champagne, one arm crossed over the other as I observe happy couples on the dance floor shift into a slow dance. They sway to Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight” and I have never felt so on the outside of things—so on the outskirts of love.

Closing my eyes, I let the melody wash over me. And then, someone touches my elbow. I glance up and nearly spill my drink at the sight of Connor standing there in

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