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“And this is Pamela,” Emilia continued, directing me toward a redhead who wore a matching dress. The effect was jarring, but she stuck out a hand.
“Such a pleasure to meet you,” Pamela said. “Emmy has told me so much about you. I can’t wait to hang out. And to learn how to dance.” She clapped her hands and bounced up and down after our handshake.
“And this,” Emilia said, excitement building in her voice as she turned me to another bridesmaid, “is Chloe Grace.”
My jaw dropped.
Chloe Grace was a world-renowned singer famous for her crooning, sexy tones and her ballads. She wore a form-fitting midnight blue dress, and her dark hair fell around her face in looping curls. She bore a kind smile. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”
“Wow,” I managed. “I mean, yeah. It’s so great to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”
“Thank you,” she said graciously.
The tabloids had been all aflutter with Chloe’s story about how she’d met her now-husband, Jacob, in Paris, France, and how they’d narrowly escaped death together. It was a romance story for the ages, followed by a skyrocketing to fame.
Chloe, in short, was the singing version of my dream.
I was stunned for a few seconds.
“And this is Ninka,” Emilia continued.
The list of bridesmaids was long and varied, from squat Gina, who smiled a lot and had slightly yellow teeth, to the infamous Chastity, who wore a miniskirt that showed off the bottoms of her ass cheeks. Emilia was the type of person who made friends easy. She collected people and took them under her wing.
Emmy was a head shorter than everyone else but filled with energy and joy. She guided me toward the glasses of champagne, and we toasted to her, loud and proud.
“All right,” she said. “So, as you guys know, Summer will be teaching us how to dance for the wedding. It’s totally optional, but I thought it would be a nice bonding experience for all of us.”
“Why are you teaching us to dance?” The blonde, Chastity, folded her arms under her incredibly perky breasts. Judging by the constant nipple stand, she wasn’t wearing a bra. But then again, who was I to judge? I wasn’t either.
“Summer is a pro,” Emilia said. “She took tons of classes, and she’s going to teach us what she knows.”
Chastity didn’t look impressed, and if I’d planned on befriending these women, it would’ve mattered to me. But I wasn’t about to go out of my way to make nice. I was here for Emilia. Still, I couldn’t help peering over at Chloe—did she think I was a hack too?
“All right,” Emilia continued. “So, the guys will be down later, but, for now, let’s socialize.”
The bridesmaids all gathered around her, and we talked. I sipped my champagne, trying to focus on what they were saying rather than the inexorable tug behind my navel. I wanted to go upstairs and see Matt again.
What’s wrong with you?
Emilia would flip out if she found out anything had happened between us in the past. If I had been into dating, which I wasn’t, he would have been the last person I was interested in. It was too complicated, and he was too much of a dick.
I lost track of time thanks to the champagne and Chastity’s dragging story about how she’d lost her virginity to a truck driver because he’d had the most wicked trucker hat and had let her honk the horn.
The double doors to the hall opened, and the groom and his groomsmen strolled in, chatting and shooting the shit.
And there he was.
Matt Baker, swaggering along, his hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts, his shirt clinging to his ample biceps. He spotted me, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he flashed a brief smile.
I turned my head. “Guess we’re starting,” I said to Emilia.
“That’s right.” My bestie clapped her hands. “All right, everyone. It’s time to start our dance lesson. Everyone pair up! Maid of honor will be with the best man, and then the rest paired according to their order in the wedding party.”
People shifted. Chastity tottered past, making eyes at Matt, who ignored her entirely. Pamela patted me on the arm. “Can’t wait to learn,” she said. “This will be fun. Good luck!”
“Thanks,” I said.
Soon, everyone was paired up except for me. And Matt. The best man.
Oh god, why was he the best man?
He came over to stand next to me. “You’re blushing again,” he said.
“Bull,” I replied. “I’m just excited to get started teaching everyone.”
He placed a hand on the small of my back. “Come on,” he said. “You know I ain’t buying that.”
“Frankly, I don’t give a damn what you buy.”
Quickly, I switched on the stereo and directed people through the steps for a simple waltz. Then, I allowed Matt to take my hand and lead me around the dance floor. We paused beside couples, and I corrected their posture or encouraged them.
