I’d known her, I felt a connection to Blake’s mother. She had my back.
“Come, now,” hissed Enid, wrenching me away. “Let’s get down to business.”
A violent spasm rocked my abdomen as she hauled me away.
*
“Finally!” snapped Monique as I staggered into an opulent guest suite on the main floor of the Bernsteins’ palatial mansion. Like the rest of their house, it was filled with expensive antiques and artwork. My dress, on a padded hanger, hung from an ornate tri-fold corner mirror while the starfish headpiece was perched on a nearby velvet chaise. Both were wrapped in protective plastic.
Monique was not alone. Two clone-like assistants flanked her and scuttling about was a hip-looking couple who I assumed was doing my hair and makeup.
“Should I change into the dress?” I asked Enid. My voice was weary when it should have been bubbling with excitement. Besides feeling terribly fluish, I was so stressed over my parents.
Enid rolled her eyes at me again. “Of course not. You need to do hair and makeup first. Go to the guest bathroom where you’ll find a robe. Get undressed, but be sure to put on your bridal undergarments. And one more thing…please take off that hideous jewelry you’re wearing. It doesn’t go with your dress.”
She was referring to the pink tourmaline pendant necklace and matching earrings Blake had given me. Anger surged inside me. No way. They were staying.
“I’m not taking them off,” I said defiantly.
Enid pursed her lips in disgust. “Fine. We’ll just photoshop them out for the publicity pictures. Maybe replace them with pearls.”
Seething, I bit my tongue as she pointed to the door of the ensuite bathroom. Five minutes later, I emerged wearing a fluffy terrycloth robe and matching slippers. Beneath the robe, I had on the beautiful lace lingerie and silk stockings Gloria had given me at my bridal shower. Clutching my cell phone, I placed the bag with my shoes by one of the couches. Just as hair and makeup were about to begin, my phone rang. Blake! My heart galloping, I hit answer. YES! Great news! His father’s private jet would be leaving soon to pick up my parents and Father Murphy. Enid shot me a dirty look as I let Blake know how much I loved him.
“Monique and I will be back shortly. I’m leaving you in very good hands. Philippe and Irma have done hair and makeup for countless celebrities.”
My eyes stayed fixed on Enid and my dress designer as they strolled out of the room. I wondered—were they going to get in a little pussy time somewhere? If only Helen knew. Feeling so much more relaxed now knowing my parents would be here in time for my wedding, I inwardly chuckled at the thought.
Seated in a richly upholstered armchair, I told Philippe I wanted my makeup to be as natural as possible (the way Blake preferred it) while Irma worked on my hair. “Ow,” I yelped as she yanked it up into a high ponytail.
“What are you putting on my eyes?” I asked Philippe.
“False eyelashes. Your eyes will photograph so much better.”
What? I didn’t need false lashes. My lashes were long and thick, one of my best features. I fluttered my heavy lids, getting used to the sensation.
One agonizing hour later, he handed me a large hand-mirror. “You look divine,” he cooed.
“So divine,” echoed Irma, now done with my updo.
Anxiously, I raised the mirror to my face. Gasp! I didn’t recognize myself. My lips were painted lobster red; glittery aqua marine eye shadow coated my lids; my lashes looked like fish fins, and my hairstyle resembled an octopus. This was so not me. I looked like a sea monster!
Before I could utter a word, Enid and Monique came breezing back. Enid’s suit jacket was unbuttoned and stray hairs fell onto her face. For sure, they’d had a little romp.
“Marvelous,” breathed Enid in her throaty voice as she circled me.
“But—”
Her face tightened. “Remember, Jennifer, there are no buts.” She turned to Monique. “
“Come, now,” hissed Enid, wrenching me away. “Let’s get down to business.”
A violent spasm rocked my abdomen as she hauled me away.
*
“Finally!” snapped Monique as I staggered into an opulent guest suite on the main floor of the Bernsteins’ palatial mansion. Like the rest of their house, it was filled with expensive antiques and artwork. My dress, on a padded hanger, hung from an ornate tri-fold corner mirror while the starfish headpiece was perched on a nearby velvet chaise. Both were wrapped in protective plastic.
Monique was not alone. Two clone-like assistants flanked her and scuttling about was a hip-looking couple who I assumed was doing my hair and makeup.
“Should I change into the dress?” I asked Enid. My voice was weary when it should have been bubbling with excitement. Besides feeling terribly fluish, I was so stressed over my parents.
Enid rolled her eyes at me again. “Of course not. You need to do hair and makeup first. Go to the guest bathroom where you’ll find a robe. Get undressed, but be sure to put on your bridal undergarments. And one more thing…please take off that hideous jewelry you’re wearing. It doesn’t go with your dress.”
She was referring to the pink tourmaline pendant necklace and matching earrings Blake had given me. Anger surged inside me. No way. They were staying.
“I’m not taking them off,” I said defiantly.
Enid pursed her lips in disgust. “Fine. We’ll just photoshop them out for the publicity pictures. Maybe replace them with pearls.”
Seething, I bit my tongue as she pointed to the door of the ensuite bathroom. Five minutes later, I emerged wearing a fluffy terrycloth robe and matching slippers. Beneath the robe, I had on the beautiful lace lingerie and silk stockings Gloria had given me at my bridal shower. Clutching my cell phone, I placed the bag with my shoes by one of the couches. Just as hair and makeup were about to begin, my phone rang. Blake! My heart galloping, I hit answer. YES! Great news! His father’s private jet would be leaving soon to pick up my parents and Father Murphy. Enid shot me a dirty look as I let Blake know how much I loved him.
“Monique and I will be back shortly. I’m leaving you in very good hands. Philippe and Irma have done hair and makeup for countless celebrities.”
My eyes stayed fixed on Enid and my dress designer as they strolled out of the room. I wondered—were they going to get in a little pussy time somewhere? If only Helen knew. Feeling so much more relaxed now knowing my parents would be here in time for my wedding, I inwardly chuckled at the thought.
Seated in a richly upholstered armchair, I told Philippe I wanted my makeup to be as natural as possible (the way Blake preferred it) while Irma worked on my hair. “Ow,” I yelped as she yanked it up into a high ponytail.
“What are you putting on my eyes?” I asked Philippe.
“False eyelashes. Your eyes will photograph so much better.”
What? I didn’t need false lashes. My lashes were long and thick, one of my best features. I fluttered my heavy lids, getting used to the sensation.
One agonizing hour later, he handed me a large hand-mirror. “You look divine,” he cooed.
“So divine,” echoed Irma, now done with my updo.
Anxiously, I raised the mirror to my face. Gasp! I didn’t recognize myself. My lips were painted lobster red; glittery aqua marine eye shadow coated my lids; my lashes looked like fish fins, and my hairstyle resembled an octopus. This was so not me. I looked like a sea monster!
Before I could utter a word, Enid and Monique came breezing back. Enid’s suit jacket was unbuttoned and stray hairs fell onto her face. For sure, they’d had a little romp.
“Marvelous,” breathed Enid in her throaty voice as she circled me.
“But—”
Her face tightened. “Remember, Jennifer, there are no buts.” She turned to Monique. “
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