The Wedding Plan. Abby Gaines

      CHAPTER SIX

      MERRY TUGGED AT THE BODICE of her blue dress, her backup option in case Stephanie’s bridal gown didn’t fit. This was a bridesmaid dress; it had looked fine, though far from lovely, when she’d worn it two years ago as maid of honor for what turned out to be Sarah’s short-term marriage. Now the sleeves looked ridiculously poufy. Every time she moved, the taffeta seemed to rustle accusingly.

      At least the pale blue matched her complexion.

      Merry rubbed her cheeks briskly with her palms, watching the effect in her bedroom mirror. She looked as if she were headed to an execution, not a wedding.

      There was every chance this wedding would be followed by an execution, she thought grimly. Lucas had been so mad when she’d announced they were getting married, he’d been white with fury. She shivered at the mere recollection. But he’d been too nice, too heroic, to wipe the joy from her father’s face. As she’d known he would be.

      This is the lowest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

      But for the best of reasons.

      And Lucas really would be free and clear of her, and their marriage, after ninety days. No lasting scars.

      Which was more than she could say for that night in Baltimore, which still left her mortified six months later. Really, Lucas had it easy.

      She was having trouble convincing herself of that, so it was a relief when the buzzer to her apartment sounded. She glanced at her watch. Ten-thirty; Stephanie was right on time.

      One hour until the wedding.

      Merry pressed the buzzer to open the street door. Her apartment was above a bowling alley, the only location where she could afford loft-style, the rent being low due to the constant rumble of bowling balls beneath her feet from 11:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m.

      Stephanie maneuvered her way inside, hampered by a large, flattish carton with a small wooden chest perched on top. “I brought my sewing kit so we can make any needed adjustments.” She eyed the toast crumbs on Merry’s kitchen counter with misgiving and headed to the coffee table to set down the carton and the chest. “Merry, as your matron of honor, it’s my duty to tell you that the blue dress isn’t good.”

      “It’s not that bad. And this isn’t a white satin kind of wedding.” Merry had asked Stephanie to be matron of honor on the basis that the fewer people who knew about this, the better. Though she would have asked her best friend, Sarah, if Sarah hadn’t been on vacation in Mexico. Thankfully, the need for haste meant everyone readily agreed on a small celebration.