Planning Bliss (Bliss Series Book 1)

The Wedding Dress

The Wedding Dress

When we arrived in Paris, I was chauffeured by a kind old man who didn't speak a lick of English. But he helped me with my luggage even when I insisted, in a horrible attempt of the French language, that I was fine on my own. Sandrine had given strict orders when she met us at the airfield and he had to oblige.

Three cars waited for us. One was just for her and Jake. Levi had mockingly declined to join the already packed second car that seated Trent, Landon, Isobel and her army of luggage. I was terrified that he would insist riding with me in the third car, but he told us that he had to meet with someone and would see us later for lunch. He stood back as we drove away. I couldn't help but wonder who he was meeting. Maybe Sophie did need help filling her "drink cart".

Checking in at the hotel was a better experience than I thought it would have been. One of the bellhops was an American so he translated for me and for the desk clerk. He also helped me get my stuff in the room. His name was Charlie but everyone --and insisted that I too-- called him Chaz.

The first thing I noticed in the room was the view of Eiffel Tower as it faced the bed. It felt too surreal.

Although my heart belonged to San Francisco, my mind often wandered to Paris.

My single mother had helped pay for my education. Even though she would have been proud to work extra hours to support me if I had decided to move to this city to study Fine Arts, I had declined profusely. When I started to make more money with event planning, I never had time to travel unless it was for clients and most of them remained in the US. As my career flourished, My priorities shifted and Paris became a pipe dream.

I finally made it!

I was taking in the view beyond the open windows, under the blue sky when my ringtone startled me. My mother was calling to see how my flight went.

I spoke briefly to her, saying that I needed to get ready for the dress fitting and lunch. I did exactly that, but took a longer shower to prep for the fitting. No one would want to take measurements of a stinky bridesmaid.

Promptly, I made it to the design house where Sandrine and Isobel were already waiting. Isobel, sat bored and sulking, fiddling with her phone, and Sandrine looked put out by her future sister-in-law's behavior. They both jumped out of their seats, almost pushing each other just to give me a hug and shower me with kisses.

Sandrine introduced me to Crâyon, the fashion designer in skin tight black trousers and a colorful paisley shirt, and cheeks so hollow I wanted to pick him up and carry him to the nearest hospital. I tried not to butcher his name, but did anyway. He sneered at me the entire time. His assistant handed me champagne, then produced the the dresses for me and Isobel.

A sea-foam green beaded chiffon overlaying sparkly silver silk, with cute circular patterns along the hem for Isobel (which she merrily referred to as the puke green dress, even though it looked fabulous, nothing I had ever seen before,and the fit on her was perfect) and a blush pink layered trumpet dress for me. I had minor adjustments on my dress, Sandrine confessed that she had forgotten to ask for my bra size.

Both Isobel and I changed back into our regular clothes, while we waited for Sandrine to put on the dress that Crâyon had created for her, we drank champagne and ate caviar. I was loving every minute of it until Sandrine stepped out of the dressing room.

For a bit I wasn't sure why I felt like I was going to pass out, perhaps I should have eaten something more substantial before the fitting. It could also have been the fact that this wedding was becoming more a reality, and I would soon lose Jake forever.