The rhythm of Harry's heart beating steadily against my back pulled my conciousness into a dreamy dance, one that I did not want to wake from.
I tugged carefully at Harry's arm and pulled it up close to my chest so I could kiss his hand.
he shifted slightly and tightened his grip around me.
"Angie!" a voice hissed, but it wasn't Harry's deep rasp.
I turned around to see Gemma standing over me in her night gown, poking my arm. I jumped slightly and hit Harry in the face with my elbow. He rubbed his cheek and just nuzzled his face into my neck.
"Let's get to the studio early, before he wakes up" she grinned eagerly and nodded at Harry. She threw me my robe and tugged at my arm.
I pulled the covers up higher and glanced over at Harry, who was still sleeping serenely.
"No, I don't want to do the photoshoot" I whispered to her.
Gemma huffed in annoyance.
"Oh, come on, he won't ever find out" she waved a hand in the air.
"No" I shook my head as I recalled what Harry had told me last night.
Gemma yanked at my arm and pulled me out. I quickly put the robe on.
"Well let's at least look for your dress, then" she sighed.
I was about to respond when she pushed me into the bathroom and threw a dress at me.
After dressing and washing up, we had breakfast in silence. Gemma was watching me curiously the whole time, as if I was a picture that was used to being stared at.
The moment I finished my last spoonful of cereal, she pulled at my arm and grabbed Harry's car keys. She texted something into her phone and grinned, then she drove us to a bridal shop I had never even noticed before. Well, I had seen it, I just knew I couldn't afford it. But Gemma didn't seem to care.
"Styles" she told the mannequin-like woman at the front desk. It wasn't until she blinked her pale blue eyes that I realized that she was alive.
Gemma nearly squealed when the woman led us over to the back room that was filled with rows and shelves of more white lace than I imagined to be in Heaven.
"Angel's paradise" a woman grinned and clapped her hands eagerly.
Gemma and I turned around to see Jordan in her blue and black blouse and suit, holding her clipboard to her chest.
"Jordan?" I asked even though there was only one person who had a clipboard glued to her chest and whose lips were permanently fastened in a cheerful grin. Her assistant and the mannequin-like lady stood close behind her.
"Angela, did you really think I would miss the day you chose your dress?" she asked me with the cock of her dark brows.
I shook my head "no."
"And especially since that picky fiancé of yours won't be here to distract you or insult my top chef" she added with a disapproving shake of her head.
I thought about Harry lying in bed still, completely out of this "girly" loop that I myself felt very distant from. I had never had more than one girl friend and now I was bombarded with half a dozen girls who were more eager for my wedding day than I was.
Well, I was excited, but there was a knot in my stomach that reminded me that nothing ever went right for me and Harry. Plus, I hadn't expected all this detail or planning to be so important. The way Jordan and Gemma and the mannequin woman were scavenging through dresses and listing candle brands and lingerie companies, I might as well have been marrying my wedding day instead of Harry.
Jordan, her assistant, Gemma, and the mannequin lady left me to my wandering thoughts and had already collected arm-fuls of dresses. They alternated holding them up to my neck and tilting their heads to the side as they checked to see
"Try these" Gemma commanded and she took my hand and led me into one of the dressing rooms. Mannequin-lady came in as well.
Gemma pulled down at the zipper and my dress fell swiftly to the floor. I tried to cover myself with my arms, but Gemma pulled my arms away and scanned me up and down.
"And why exactly did you say you didn't want to do the lingerie shoot?" she asked with a cock of her brow.
I stared at Gemma. She was even more forward and domineering than Harry and Harry was quite the confident type.
Mannequin-lady blinked and held wedding dress one out for me.
I stepped into the dress. Gemma and the Mannequin-lady pulled it up quickly. Gemma practically pushed me against the wall as she tightened the lace until I was positive I wasn't breathing.
The dress was skin-tight, but the lace and satin felt quite smooth. It had a deep-v plunge neckline, "mermaid" style was what Gemma and Jordan had called it. I could barely walk, it felt like I really did have a tail.
Gemma gasped and I thought my wide hips had ripped something. Then she turned me around to face her. I looked up and saw that she and the Mannequin-lady's mouths hung open.
I turned around and looked into the mirror slowly, eager to see and yet not see how horribly awkward I must have looked.
But I didn't look that awkward, I looked like-like a bride. An anxious, fearful, young girl-bride.
Gemma swung the door open and pushed me out. I nearly tripped, not just out of my natural awkwardness, but the dress was like one big bandage, covering me from my chest, down to my knees.
Jordan's mouth hung open as well.
"Angela" she began slowly.
What? Why was everyone so damn speechless? That's my job.
I glanced at all of them, hoping someone would say something, anything to let me know that I needed to find something else before I fell flat on my face.
But no one said a word. No one except a deep voice with a strong Italian accent.
"Sei bellissima" a man spoke up.
We all turned slightly to see an older man with a thick black mustache, holding a large, flashy camera.
"Vince!" Gemma squealed gleefully. She ran over to Vince and kissed his cheek.
"Didn't I tell you she was absolutely beautiful?" Gemma nudged the man in his shoulder.
He ignored Gemma and stared at me as if his eyes depended on it.
"Lei è come un angela" he whispered in Italian. Danny and I didn't speak much Italian after dad passed. It reminded us of the kind of men he used to work with, the men that took his life. But I still understood a lot. I looked down at my hands self-conciously; he had called me an angel.
"Yes, her name is Angela" Gemma nodded even though she clearly hadn't understood the Italian very well.
The man took a few steps closer to me and looked me up and down slowly. Then he reached for my face and tilted my jaw slightly to the left. He turned his camera on and began flashing photo after photo.
I covered my face like a deer caught in headlights.
"Bella," he sighed disappointedly and moved my hand from my face. Then he started snapping photos like a maniac.
"Sì, sì" he nodded eagerly and bent down on his knees to take as many different angels as possible.
I held my hands in front of my chest and waist awkwardly, unsure if he was zooming in anywhere that was already too clearly exposed.
"Bene innocente" he exclaimed. "Perfetto!" he nodded even more eagerly.
I stared at Gemma and the other women, but they just stood there and watched me with the most blissful expressions, you'd think we really were in Heaven.
When he stopped snapping photos, Gemma grabbed my arm and led me back to the dressing room. She undressed me and I tried on all fifty dresses they had picked out. Some were shorter, others were too long. Some were see-through and others made me choke on the excessive lace and satin.
"Gemma, I'm really tired, can we go home?" I asked her after having been her quiet little doll for the past few hours.
"No" she shook her head quickly. She was clearly having too much fun dressing me up, as much fun as Vince was having taking the pictures and Jordan was as she watched it all unfold.
I sighed and came out of the room once more for Vince to snap away and Jordan to clap.
"I really have no idea how I'm going to decide" Gemma shook her head and loooked me over as I stood in front of the mirror, wearing the last dress they had picked out.
"You?" I asked. She clearly had a strong opinion about the dresses and everything else for that matter, but I was going to choose the dress. It was my wedding after all.
"Well, technically you're gonna choose it" Gemma admitted casually.
I changed back into my clothes as Mannequin-lady and Gemma tried to re-shelve the dresses they didn't like.
Then I walked out to the dresses again and something caught my eye amidst all the white.
A long, dress made of a soft, cottony ivory lace stood alone in the corner of the room. It was sleeve-less with a sweet-heart neckline and "mermaid-style" without looking too constricting. The bottom piece fluttered and the train followed after, like white rose petals. I looked more closely and saw the ribbon that had been woven into the waist line.
It was golden.
"I want to try this one" I told them. Gemma blinked. It was the first time I had chosen a dress or said anything really in the past few hours.
"This is the last one in that style" the Mannequin-lady told me.
"Ok" Gemma nodded.
I went back to the changing room and Gemma and Mannequin-lady helped me into the dress. It slipped on so comfortably and fit with my skin, not over it.
Gemma finished lacing up the back and I walked out of the dressing room.
They all watched me with wide, wide eyes.
"How does it look?" I asked. I patted the dress down and I took a few steps down the mini runway in front of the mirror.
Vince dropped his camera. Jordan's clipboard slipped. Mannequin-lady blinked about a dozen times. And Gemma, Gemma's eyes glazed over with water.
"Angie" she spoke up.
"That's it" she told me softly.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror and I nearly fell to my knees as I saw my mother standing next to me. She was dressed in a long, white night gown and her ivory wings stuck out majestically, wrapping around me and comforting me.
"Sei bellissima, la mia angela" she whispered. Then she kissed my cheek and my heart bled.
I looked over my shoulder, but she wasn't there. She was never there. She lived in my heart.
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Angie's dress is on the right>>> :]