In a Broken Dream (The Broken Series Book 4) (5 page)

“Fitted?”

She
shook her head again.

“Full
skirt? Long train?”

She
nodded.

“Lace?”

She
shook her head again.

“Okay…
size six, satin, full skirt, and long train in ivory or white?”

She
nodded again.

I
grabbed her arm and pushed past the two women standing on the other end of the
aisle. They looked a little less scary than the four ripping through dresses on
my end. “Okay,” I said, steering Cenia toward the dressing rooms. “You secure a
dressing room and stay put. I’ll bring the dresses to you.”

“Thanks,
Kri,” she replied shakily. When she glanced back at me, her chin was quivering.

“Play
with your phone. Challenge Kadyn to a game of Word Feud if you have to.” I was
hoping it would take her mind off things.

She
laughed.

“That’s
more like it! Now get in there.” I turned on my heel and headed back toward the
aisle where I had discovered Cenia.

Jase
eyed the couch longingly.

“Sit,”
I said. “We could use a male perspective. You can be our judge.”

He
smiled. “Now that sounds more like it.”

I
dove into the aisle as the two women on the end barreled out with a pile of
dresses. They were buried under an avalanche of lace. The only parts of their
bodies I could see were their feet.

I
eyed the four women at the far end of the aisle. They were working their way
toward me. I started raking through the dresses, skipping the lace, pulling a
few out to look at the cut, and shoving them back in again. I quickly forgot
about the other women as I began gathering dresses.

“Wait.
I want to see that!” the bubblegum popping bimbo with the gigantic boobs said.
She tried to yank the dress out of my hand.

No
way was I giving up that dress. The ivory dress with embroidered blue flowers
was the prettiest one I’d found. “I’m still considering this dress,” I said,
holding fast to the garment bag.

She
stopped blowing bubbles and glowered at me. “Aunt Maggie, I want this dress,
and this bitch is refusing to give it to me.”

The
platinum blond with the freakishly large lips tried scowling at me, but the gallon
of Botox she had pumped into her face got in the way. Her expression looked…
weird. “Give her the dress,” she demanded in a gravelly voice.

I
stepped back and looked for an Adam’s apple. I was wondering if she might
actually be a man. She wasn’t. “No. I’m taking this dress back to the dressing
room for my friend to try on,” I countered firmly.

“Get
a different dress,” she gritted.

Her
niece grinned. Her arms got all tangled up in her boobs when she tried to fold
them across her chest, so she threw her hands on her hips as she snapped off a
large pink bubble.

I
laughed when the gum stuck to her chin.

“Is
she laughing at me?” the bimbo screeched.

The
other two women stopped looking for dresses and joined the bubblegum popping
bimbo and Scary Face Barbie. All four women glared at me.

I
clung to my stash of dresses as I backed toward the opposite end of the aisle.

Scary
Face Barbie lunged for the dress.

“Get
off me!” I screamed.

“Give
me the dress!” she hissed, tearing at the garment bag.

“I
know people,” I warned, “really scary people.” I couldn’t believe I had to
stoop so low as to threaten the woman, but she wouldn’t let go of the dress.

“Yeah,
right,” she snorted. Suddenly her eyes widened. The other three women started
backing away from us.

“Is
there a problem?” Jase asked in a low, menacing tone. He reached around me and
pulled the pile of dresses out of my arms.

I
turned around and admired every inch of his hulking six foot three frame. He
looked like an assassin with piercing blue eyes, short cropped hair, and a body
designed to kill. Jase had served in special ops before going to work for
Rafael, so I knew he was lethal. I glanced back at the women. “My bodyguard,” I
explained.

Scary
Face Barbie stared at me. I suspected the blank look was the only expression
she could muster. “Why do you need a bodyguard?” she asked.

“My
ex-boyfriend’s in the Russian mafia,” I responded flippantly. I patted Jase on
the arm and followed him down the aisle. “That was awesome,” I whispered when
we got back to the couch.

“I’m
glad I could help,” he replied with a wink. He handed me the pile of dresses. “What
was up with that woman’s face?” he asked.

I
rolled my eyes dramatically. “I think someone squirted a little too much Botox
in all the wrong places.”

“Either
that or her dermatologist is doing acid,” he replied. An elderly couple scampered
to the far end of the couch when he reclaimed his seat. “Think you can stay out
of trouble in there?” he asked as I walked toward the dressing room.

I
laughed. “I’ll holler if I need you.”

“Hey,
Kri. Is that you?” Cenia called.

I
turned toward the sound of her voice. “Yes. Where are you?”

“Third
dressing room on the right hand side,” she replied. She cracked the door open.

“I’ve
got six dresses. I can go get more, but I thought I might as well get you
started with these,” I explained as I neared the door. I stepped inside the
dressing room. “I think you’re going to need some help pulling these over your
head. There’s miles of fabric in some of these dresses.” I tucked the dress
with the pretty blue flowers in the back as I hung the dresses on the hook. I
wanted Cenia to try on a few of the more traditional dresses before she saw it,
since it was a little unconventional with the long green leaves and pretty blue
flowers embroidered along the bodice and the bottom of the skirt.

Cenia
started getting undressed. “Can you help me? I think the woman who was assigned
to me got stuck helping someone else. Some really obnoxious women came in on
the wrong day and demanded to be seen because they’d driven two hours to get
here. They were supposed to come tomorrow, but the manager conceded because
they made such a huge stink.”

I
unzipped the first garment bag and pulled the dress out. “Was it the bubblegum
blowing bimbo and Scary Face Barbie who made the big stink?”

Cenia
laughed. “That describes them to a tee.”

“That
figures,” I muttered. “Okay, don’t judge the dress on the hanger. You really
need to try these on to fully appreciate how they look.” I pulled the first
dress over her head and tightened the strings on the corset once the dress
settled around her waist.

“I
don’t know about these sheer sleeves,” she said, scowling into the mirror.

“Let’s
take a look in the three way mirror before you decide,” I suggested. I gathered
up the long train, opened the door, and followed her out of the dressing room.

Cenia
stepped onto one of the large carpeted pedestals.

“Face
Jase,” I said, fluffing the skirt and pulling the train out behind her. “You
can look over your shoulder at the three-way to see the back of the dress.”
Once the dress was appropriately displayed, I perched on the arm of the couch
next to Jase. “What do you think?”

He
shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

“The
corset and the train are really pretty, but I don’t like the sleeves or the
neckline,” Cenia replied.

I
jumped up from the couch. “Okay. That one’s definitely out.” I gathered up the
train so we could walk back to the dressing room. I tugged the corset loose so
Cenia could step out of the dress. I tucked the dress back inside the garment
bag and hung it on a hook outside the room before pulling the second dress over
her head.

She
smoothed her hands down the delicately beaded bodice. “I like the front of this
dress.”

“Let’s
show Jase,” I replied, gathering up the train. I got her situated on the
pedestal before glancing at Jase. “What do you think?”

His
face scrunched up while he studied the dress. Eventually, he nodded. “That’s
better.”

My
eyebrows furrowed. “But it doesn’t make you swoon?”

He
glanced at the couple next to him before scowling at me. “I don’t swoon. Ever.”

I
gathered up the train. “Wrong dress,” I announced.

“What?
Why?” Cenia asked in a bewildered voice.

I
dropped the train and stood in front of her. “Do you love it? I mean
really
love it, can’t live without it, will die if you have to take it off?”

She
glanced over her shoulder at the three way mirror. “I like it, but no. I’m not
in love with the dress.”

I
nudged her toward the dressing room. “He’s not swooning, and you’re not in love
with the dress. That makes this the wrong dress.”

We
repeated the process with the next three dresses. I made Cenia close her eyes
for the sixth dress. “No peeking,” I repeated as I escorted her to the
pedestal. I was practically giddy. The strapless dress looked amazing with her
delicate-but-cut shoulders and arms. The warm ivory material complemented her
caramel colored skin tone. The bodice was snug, and the full skirt accentuated
her tiny waist.

Jase
leaned forward on the couch when she stepped onto the pedestal. “Holy shit,” he
breathed.

I
got the dress situated, then backed away. “Okay. Open your eyes.”

Cenia’s
breath caught when she looked down at the dress. Her hands trembled as they
brushed over the pretty blue flowers and the thin green leaves spiraling up the
bodice. When she peered over her shoulder, her eyes filled with tears. “Oh my
God. This is it. This is the dress I want Roger to see when I walk down the
aisle. I’m done. I’m truly done. I don’t want to try on any other dress.”

I
swiped a stray tear from my cheek as I sat next to Jase. “Do you like it?” I inquired
softly, still gazing at my friend.

“That
dress makes me want to fight Roger for the rights to marry her,” Jase growled
in a threatening tone.

Cenia’s
eyes widened.

I
laughed. “I think we’ve got a winner!”

*
* * * *

“Where
are we going?” I asked Rafael as he tucked me inside the Enzo. He had insisted
on taking me out to celebrate the end of summer semester.

He
slid into the driver’s seat. “We have reservations at Georgia Brown’s. They’re
playing live jazz tonight.”

“Jazz
sounds nice,” I murmured distractedly. I caressed the soft leather seats as the
doors slid closed. “God, I love this car.”

He
glanced over his shoulder as he backed out of the garage. “Anytime you’re ready
to get rid of that jeep,” he responded teasingly.

My
jaw fell open. “You’d buy me an Enzo if I got rid of my jeep?”

He
chuckled as he turned onto King Street. “Baby, I’d buy you a diamond encrusted
Mercedes if I thought it would motivate you to get rid of that jeep. I’m still
waiting for that phone call telling me you’re stranded on the side of the road…
and with your luck, it will be late at night, when you’re heading home from school.”

“There’s
no such thing as a diamond encrusted Mercedes,” I argued uncertainly.

“That
Saudi prince I was asked to protect last week owns a diamond encrusted
Mercedes,” Rafael countered as he rolled up to a stoplight.

“Wow,”
I breathed. “That’s insane, but I’m still not giving up the jeep. There’s too
many memories tied to that vehicle. It’s one of the few things still connecting
me to Montana.”

He
eased through the intersection. “I’d still like to have a mechanic take a look
at it. Maybe we can install a new engine and transmission, so it’s a little
safer to drive. You can drive the Lincoln Navigator while the improvements are
being made.”

“I
don’t know,” I responded hesitantly. “I’ll think about it.”

He
glanced over at me as he turned onto Washington Street. “How long do you have
before fall semester begins?”

“I
only have a week off,” I replied sullenly. I gazed out the window at the
historic homes, many of which had been converted into storefronts. I missed the
first semester of graduate school when Michael dragged me off to Paris. I’d
signed up for summer semester to catch up on my credit hours. It wasn’t easy
juggling school after everything I’d been through in Ukraine. My professors had
waived the attendance requirement and granted me an extension on the first few
assignments so I could bury Michael in Saint-Tropez. I’d been left with very
little time to grieve when I was grinding out June’s coursework alongside
everything that was due in July. I had essentially completed three months’
worth of assignments in two months’ time.

“And
you’re helping Cenia with her wedding invitations tomorrow,” Rafael confirmed,
coaxing me from my thoughts.

I
tore my eyes from the window so I could study him instead. “Yes. I’m heading
over there around two o’clock. She asked me to invite you for dinner. Roger’s
grilling kabobs.”