Shopaholic Ties the Knot (Shopaholic #3)

“That’s fantastic!” she says. “Even better than the one with the little straps.”

“I know! But I still quite like that one with the lace sleeves off the shoulder…” I stare critically at myself. “How many have I tried on now?”

“That takes us up to… thirty-five,” says Cynthia, looking at her list.

“And how many have I marked so far as possibles?”

“Thirty-two.”

“Really?” I look up in surprise. “Which ones didn’t I like?”

“The two pink dresses and the coatdress.”

“Oh no, I still quite like the coatdress. Put it down as a possible.” I parade a bit more, then look around the shop, trying to see if there’s anything I haven’t looked at yet. I stop in front of a rail of baby flower-girls’ dresses and sigh, slightly more heavily than I meant to. “God, it’s tricky, isn’t it? I mean… one dress. One.”

“I don’t think Becky’s ever bought one thing before,” says Suze to Cynthia. “It’s a bit of a culture shock.”

“I don’t see why you can’t wear more than one. I mean, it’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life, isn’t it? You should be allowed five dresses.”

“That would be cool!” says Suze. “You could have a really sweet romantic one for walking in, then a more elegant one to walk out… then one for cocktails…”

“And a really sexy one for dancing… and another one for…”

“For Luke to rip off you,” says Suze, her eyes gleaming.

“Ladies,” says Cynthia, giving a little laugh. “Rebecca. I know it’s hard… but you are going to have to choose sometime! For a June wedding, you’re already leaving it very late.”

“How can I be leaving it late?” I say in astonishment. “I’ve only just got engaged!”

Cynthia shakes her head. “In wedding dress terms, that’s late. What we recommend is that if brides think they may have a short engagement, they begin to look for a dress before they get engaged.”

“Oh God.” I give a gusty sigh. “I had no idea it was all going to be so difficult.”

“Try on that one at the end,” suggests Suze. “The one with the chiffon trumpet sleeves. You haven’t tried that, have you?”

“Oh,” I say, looking at it in surprise. “No, I haven’t.”

I carry the dress back to the fitting room, clamber out of the swooshy skirt, and step into it.

It skims sleekly over my hips, hugs my waist, and falls to the floor in a tiny, rippling train. The neckline flatters my face, and the color is just right against my skin. It feels good. It looks good.

“Hey,” says Suze, sitting up as I come out. “Now, that’s nice.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” I say, stepping up onto the podium.

I stare at my reflection and a feel a little glow of pleasure. It’s a simple dress — but I look fantastic in it. It makes me look really thin! It makes my skin look radiant and… God, maybe this is the one!

There’s silence in the shop.

“Do you feel it here?” says Cynthia, clutching her stomach.

“I… don’t know! I think so!” I give an excited little laugh. “I think I might!”

“I knew it. You see? When you find the right dress, it just hits you. You can’t plan for it, you can’t work it out on paper. You just know when it’s right.”

“I’ve found my wedding dress!” I beam at Suze. “I’ve found it!”

“At last!” There’s a ring of relief to Cynthia’s voice. “Let’s all have a glass of champagne to celebrate!”

As she disappears I admire myself again. It just shows, you can’t tell. Who would have thought I’d go for trumpet sleeves?

An assistant is carrying past another dress and I catch sight of an embroidered silk corset bodice, tied up with ribbons.

“Hey, that looks nice,” I say. “What’s that?”

“Never mind what that is!” says Cynthia, handing me a glass of champagne. “You’ve found your dress!” She lifts her glass, but I’m still looking at the ribboned bodice.

“Maybe I should just try that one on. Just quickly.”

“You know what I was thinking?” says Suze, looking up from Brides. “Maybe you should have a dress that isn’t a wedding dress. Like a color!”

“Wow!” I stare at Suze, my imagination gripped. “Like red or something.”