The lights, the energy, the urgent countdown to the start of the show. The designer sewing a model into her dress and stabbing herself in the finger. That part is new but exhilarating all the same.
I tie off the thread, knot it and cut the excess.
“All right, Jocelyn, you’re in.” Taking me for my word, she doesn’t bother to look back as she rushes off to get in line with the other models. When I stand from where I was crouched on the floor to finish the detail on Jocelyn’s dress, I notice the dark black spots on my pink dress. Shit. I had been so focused on sewing the dress, so intent on getting it ready that I hadn’t stopped to think about kneeling on the dirty floor, with the delicate hemline of my dress tucked under my knees.
“Two minutes!” Jen bellows.
I hustle to a nearby hair and makeup station to look for a towel or wipe or something I can attempt to clean myself off with.
“What are you doing?” Jess appears beside me. Her eyes go wide when I pull away the wipe that was not only unsuccessful in removing the dirt spots, but made them wet and splotchy.
“No one will notice, right?” I glance down and then back up to Jess’s face. While I’m not modeling in the show, I am the designer and will be taking a walk down the runway at the end.
We’re at the Blushing Bride convention in Las Vegas for my first official runway show. The top five up and coming bridal gown designers were invited and I was asked to headline the fashion show. According to the brochure they put out, I’m the hot new bridal gown designer that’s got a flare for ‘sassy, flirty gowns that are guaranteed to make you own your day.’
“Hold on.” Jess strikes her finger into the air. “We’ve got an extra.”
“Dress?” I ask, quickly following her.
By the time we get to the rack at the back of the convention space, I’m breathless. Jesus, this place is huge. Jess unzips the garment bag and immediately my jaw drops.
“No way.” I shake my head in disbelief. “How did this get here?”
“It got mixed in with the other bags in New York. It’s all we’ve got in your size.” Jess slips off the garment bag, exposing the white slip-dress style gown that my mom wore when she and my dad got married. It’s Dior haute couture circa 1991, and I’m obsessed with it. When my mom gave it to me, I’d envisioned making a few small adjustments to update it a bit and wear it at my own wedding.
“It’s fate. I’m positive Alec will see you in this and drop to one knee.”
Jess’s words make my stomach flip, because that’s exactly what I want. It would be the perfect ending to this dream of a day. Alec’s flight from New York should have landed forty-five minutes ago, giving him just enough time to get to my show. How amazing will it be to walk out after my first runway show, in this dress and see him in the audience? I imagine we’ll go out to dinner after to celebrate, the show and my birthday, because that’s also a thing happening today, and Alec will pop the question. It’s the perfect set up. We’ve been dating for over two years, and living together for one of those.
Alec’s handsome and smart, and I think we’re a good fit. There are a few things that aren’t perfect between us, like I wish he’d be more attentive and spend more time doing things I like to do, but love is all about compromise. We’ve got the rest of our lives to go on romantic getaways, and girlfriends really are better companions to the classic old movies I like to go see, they don’t complain about the black and white screen, or take phone calls halfway through the movie. Alec teases me about being in love with love, but how can I not be? Isn’t it the most magical feeling in the world? And through my bridal gown designs, I get to see how that love is transformed into a union between two people that are going to spend the rest of their lives together. That’s my favorite part. That my gowns get to be part of someone’s memories on the most special day of their lives. And wearing this gown today could be just what I need to give Alec a little nudge.
“Emma! I see that look in your eye. Let’s reminisce later. Your show is about to start.”
“Oh, right.” I turn to let Jess unzip my dress so I can shimmy out of it and quickly into Mr. Christian Dior. Jess starts to do up the buttons along the back.
“You don’t think it’s bad form to wear this now, right? Like it’s not going to curse my wedding or marriage, or bring me bad luck, do you?”
Swinging me around, Jess rolls her eyes. “No, you look amazing.” She gestures at the form fitting gown. “The only thing this dress is going to do is get you laid.” She giggles. “And possibly a ring on that left finger of yours.”