The Agreement (An Indecent Proposal) (7 page)

“Wake up,” Jude sang, as she knocked on my door a second
before it was thrown open. “It’s time to go buy a dress.”

I groaned, but didn’t stir in the hope she would go away. I
knew she wouldn’t, but at least I could pretend to not hear her. The thing with
Jude was, she didn’t take ‘go away’ for an answer; not even silence or a
person’s need for privacy could motivate her to back the fuck off. As if
sensing my thoughts, she jumped on my bed, and began to sing the national
anthem in the most cringeworthy voice one could possibly imagine, knowing all
too well how much I despised noise.

Come on.

Couldn’t a girl get some sleep?

Under usual circumstances, Jude had a pleasant voice. The thing
was that the moment she started singing, she sounded like a cat screeching
through a pipe. Jude had no talent for singing. None whatsoever. But the
knowledge didn’t stop her from trying at every opportunity. In fact, it had
become her weapon whenever she wanted to wake me up.

“Please, shut up,” I whispered, and pulled the sheets over
my head again. I had managed to get all of two hours of sleep. Two hours of
dreaming of Chase, his gorgeous body, my hands touching him all over, right
before he was shot by an assassin and died in front of my eyes.

My subconscious was definitely trying to tell me something.
I just didn’t know what exactly.

Needless to say, I was tired, eager to close my eyes again
and snooze through the rest of the day and get back to more pleasant
dreams—anything that would remove last night’s nightmare from my memory,
or at least get rid of my sleep deprivation.

“Come on, Laurie. It’s after lunch.” Jude pulled at my
sheets. “Time to buy a dress, so drag your lazy ass out of there. If you’re
really getting married, we better make it look damn convincing, which involves
dressing the part.”

I groaned and slammed a pillow over my head. “Can you give
me half an hour?”

“No, make it fifteen.” She yanked at the sheets, and they
landed on the floor in a messy heap. “Coffee’s ready. I’ve already called the
bridal shop and made an appointment. I’ve heard it’s the cheapest in town, and
they have a sale.”

Trust Jude to always find a bargain.

Who’d say no to a bargain?

Not I, and particularly not when I was strapped for cash.

“Okay.” I groaned and pried one eye open, watching Jude
disappear out the door.

Eighteen days to go.

With a deep breath I forced my tired body out of bed.
Changing into a black shirt with jeans, I told myself that there was no need to
stress out. It was just a dress. It didn’t even have to be a pretty or
expensive one. Only one that would do the job.

As I brushed my hair, my gaze fell on my dresser. One of the
drawers was ajar. I always closed them.

Frowning, I walked closer and opened it, inspecting the
personal things I kept inside. Among them was a brown wooden gift box in which
I kept a necklace that once belonged to my mother. I lifted the box and opened
it, my fingers itching to touch the last thing my mother wore—a reminder
of her presence.

My breath hitched.

The box was empty. I rummaged through the drawer, then
tossed everything onto the floor until it was empty. There was no trace of the
necklace.

“Jude!” I shouted. Her steps thudded down the hall and her
head popped in an instant later.

“What? Are you done? We only have two minutes left.”

“Almost.” I pointed to the drawer. “Did you go through my
stuff?”

Which Jude was allowed to do. She borrowed things all the
time—and never forgot to give them back.

“No. Why?”

“The drawer was open. I can’t find my mom’s necklace.” I
pointed at the heap on the floor and the box. “The box is empty, and I can’t
find it anywhere.”

“That’s weird.” She looked at me wide-eyed, her voice
betraying her worry. “Are you sure it’s gone? Maybe you just misplaced it?”

I looked around my room. Unlike Jude, I was always a bit
chaotic, which was why I needed lists—a habit she had always made fun of.

“Maybe,” I whispered, unconvinced.

“Let me help you,” Jude offered. “We can call off the
appointment and look for it. I know how important the necklace is to you,
Laurie. We’ll find it, you’ll see.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll do it later when we get back. I’m sure
it’s somewhere here.” I pointed at the mess at my feet. “Let’s go.”

Jude eyed me carefully. “You sure?”

I nodded with more confidence than I was feeling. There had
been a time when I used to sleepwalk. The first time it happened, I was in
boarding school. It had been right after I found out that my mom was sick.
Sleepwalking became something of a habit that reached its peak when she died,
and calmed down the moment I moved out of Waterfront Gardens. It started again
five weeks ago, when nightmares plagued me.

I thought it had something to do with my nearing birthday,
being faced with the reminders of my mom’s suicide and my need to get those
letters. Or maybe it was the result of a traumatic experience, such as being
trapped in a lift with a complete stranger. Whatever caused it, one day I just
woke up sprawled over the kitchen floor in front of the open fridge.

“I’m sure it’s somewhere. It has to be,” I said, more to
convince myself than Jude. “I’m probably freaking out without reason. You know
me. When I’m stressed, I tend to lose things, make a fuss, and then find them
again.”

“If you say so.” Jude looked unconvinced but didn’t comment.

Twenty minutes later, we were ready to go. During the drive
I recapped to Jude last night’s events, leaving out the vital details: that a
man almost raped me, that Chase drove me to his special place, and that way too
intimate things happened between us.

I omitted practically everything, which left Jude with the
impression that Chase had picked me up, we had fast food at the drive-thru, and
then he drove me home.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

There was something about Chase that I just didn’t want to
share every moment we spent together—maybe because I wanted to keep it
all to myself until I could tell for sure where we were heading.

Of course I felt bad about keeping secrets from Jude, but I
made a mental promise to tell her everything once things became less
complicated.

The bridal shop was tucked between a dog spa and a
hairdresser’s advertising quick barber’s cuts for five bucks. Not exactly the type
of place you’d usually expect to buy your wedding gown from, but I was strapped
for cash and so, I figured, this might just be the only place where I could
find something
affordable
for the
‘big day,’ which was what I had told Jude when she offered to play the fake
bridesmaid part by helping me find the best dress I could afford for my budget.

I cringed at the word. It implied I was frugal, strapped for
cash, maybe even stingy.

Budget.

I hated it almost as much as the word
poor,
because it was associated with too many negative
connotations, so I had settled for the word
affordable
.

“Are you kidding me?” Jude wrinkled her nose in obvious
disgust. “Affordable is
not
the word
you should be using in such a situation. It’s your marriage, not dry cleaning.”
A few passersby turned to regard her, taking in her business suit and
stilettos, the oversized sunglasses perched on her head, and the designer scarf
tied around her flawless neck. My old business suit fitted her like a sheath,
hugging her curves in all the right places and riding up her long legs.
Needless to say, it suited her way better than it did me. She looked like a
high-flying Californian lawyer that would soon be featured in
Forbes,
while I usually looked like a
frumpy mess. Add that knowledge to the fact that I was about to get married to
Chase in cheap polyester and I could already see a huge cloud of depression
hovering over my head.

“How has your week been at work?” I asked, eager to draw the
attention back to her. No matter how late Jude had arrived home the night
before and how many margaritas she had downed, knowing her, she probably had
gotten up at five as usual to check on her blog and entertain the gazillions of
Facebook fans she had accumulated.

“You know me. I can’t talk about it.” She waved her hand.

She was being superstitious, as usual, and she wasn’t going
to talk about it so she wouldn’t jinx it.

“Got it,” I said, pushing the door to the bridal shop open.

A bell above the door chimed in a pleasant tinkling sound.

“I’m Casey. Can I help you?” A shop assistant in her mid- to
late twenties ambled over, a bored expression on her face.

“She’s getting married,” Jude said, pointing at me.

Casey’s gaze snapped in my direction and her eyes narrowed
on me, probably taking my measurements already. “We cater to every bride’s
need. When’s the big day?”

“In two, three weeks max,” I said, and almost toppled over
from embarrassment as I caught the knowing expression in her eyes. Her gaze
traveled down my abdomen, then back up to my face.

“I’m not pregnant,” I hurried to add.

Casey inclined her head and smiled sweetly, probably not
believing a word I had said. After all, wasn’t an unexpected pregnancy the main
reason why most people got married nowadays?

“They only met, like, a week ago,” Jude said, not really
helping. “Literally.”

I shot her an irritated look but she just shrugged.

“Great,” Casey said, a little bit too excited. “We won’t
have to worry about a bloated abdomen, then. Did you have anything in mind?
Maybe a silhouette you’ve been dreaming of since you were a girl? Here at
Wedding Bells I’m sure you’ll find the right dress.”

I shook my head, slightly intimidated by the sudden
knowledge that choosing a gown was yet another step toward this marriage. Soon
there would be no turning back.

Run, Hanson.

But instead of following my brain’s extremely wise command,
I stood rooted to the spot, frozen in time and space, unable to utter a single
word.

“She’s never been the marrying kind, you know.” Jude
laughed. “It sort of jumped into her lap.”

“Okay,” Casey said, drawing out a paper pad. “In that case,
I’ll ask you a couple of questions to determine what you’re looking for as we
go along. Sound good?”

“Absolutely,” Jude exclaimed for me.

Wow, she really
did
want
me to go through with it.

No pressure, at all.

“Can you please follow me to the showroom?” Casey ushered us
along, her voice oozing pride. “You’ll find we store almost all brands in all
sizes for each and everyone.”

We followed her through the showroom to the back, where the
shop seemed to extend into a warehouse. I had never seen so many clothes. Rows
and rows of white and cream fabric seemed to stretch on forever. To my right
was a selection of gowns in colors raging from pastels to bold red and black.
Some were short; others cascaded onto the floor in a multitude of ruffles. All
I could do was stare—and not out of excitement. I was completely and
utterly overwhelmed. I never thought a wedding dress would come in so many
variations.

Where the heck would I even begin?

“Not bad,” Jude said, nodding appreciatively. “We should be
done in half an hour. An hour tops.”

Casey smiled politely. “Let’s get started, then.” She opened
her notebook and looked up at me. “Do you want short or long?”

“Ah—” I opened my mouth to speak, but Jude cut me off.

“I was thinking long. But—” She drew a sharp breath
and let it out in a loud huff. “She has nice legs and it would be a shame if
she didn’t show them, so short would work for us, too.”

Casey jotted down every word. “Long but we’re not ruling out
short.”

“Exactly.” I nodded.

“Okay.” Casey peered around the warehouse and then began to
move racks around, all the while asking more questions. “What about the color?
Do you want to go with traditional white? Off-white? Cream? Or something
bolder? Some brides like red for good luck.”

I hesitated as I tried to imagine myself in a wedding gown.
White always washed me out. Anything pastel only managed to emphasize the tiny
freckles on my face. But I couldn’t possibly go with a bright color. Not if I
wanted Clint and everyone else to buy my bluff.

“We like white,” Jude said. “And off-white.” She held a
piece of fabric up to my face and squinted. “Cream, too.”

“So, nothing too bold.” Casey scribbled furiously, her gaze
focused on the notepad.

“Actually—”

I cut Jude off. “No. It has to look like a real wedding. I
need to have a traditional white dress.”

Casey looked up sharply, and for a moment I thought I saw
suspicion in her eyes. Jude let out a shrill laugh.

“You just made it sound like you’re only marrying to get a visa,”
Jude said, patting my back with a hint of nervousness. “You’re hilarious.”

Oh my God. I could have killed her. Casey’s gaze darted
toward the door, and for a second I thought she might just dash out and call
the immigration office. Trust Jude to say something that might just get me
arrested.

“Funny.” I smirked. “Can we finish, please? What other
questions do you have for me?”

“Sleeves, cut?” Casey said after a long, hesitant pause.

No idea.

I looked at Jude for help, but she kept her mouth shut.

“Well, I think I’ll go with sleeves,“ I said. “Long sleeves
made of chiffon or organza.”

“Bad idea, Laurie. It’s too hot. Better go with short,” Jude
cut in, turning to Casey as she smiled and stepped forward, ready to take over
again. “She has a problem with her upper arms, so, naturally, she tries to hide
them with sleeves. But straps would look good on her, too. Maybe even backless.
Or halter top.“ She eyed me up and down. Her eyes narrowed knowingly, then she
scanned the racks.

“Something sexy that isn’t too old-fashioned. Something
like…” Frowning in concentration, Jude began sifting through the racks
furiously, pulling at the plastic covering most of the dresses. “Empire waist
to emphasize her cleavage. Or a corset.”

As Jude continued her chatter, Casey’s pen flew over the
paper effortlessly. At some point I tuned out, realizing Casey had stopped
writing and was just nodding politely, wide-eyed. Eventually, Jude stopped and
Casey asked us to wait in the showroom while she put together a possible
selection of gowns that I might like.

To be honest, I was surprised Casey had not thrown us out
yet, what with Jude’s pointing at countless dresses and not able to make up her
mind on what we really wanted.

“This is exciting and so much fun,” Jude said as we took our
seats patiently.

I wasn’t convinced, not least because my head was throbbing
and I couldn’t picture myself dressed in a wedding gown, let alone walking down
the aisle. It all seemed like a surreal dream—pleasant, but a dream
nonetheless. However, I was thankful for Jude’s help, so I smiled and watched
her type on her smartphone, probably tweeting to the whole world about her
experience.

At least twenty minutes passed before Casey returned pushing
in a rack with gowns, and then another, and one more—all based on the
questionnaire she had filled out for me.

“Didn’t she say she was going to pick just a
few
dresses for you? I guess someone’s
having a tough time making decisions,” Jude whispered to me, and stashed her
phone back inside her handbag, ready to give the dress her entire attention.

“Well, since you couldn’t really give me
any
pointers,” Casey said, shooting me
an exasperated look, “I had to choose something from everything.”

“That’s not true,” Jude said defiantly. “We know exactly
what we’re looking for, don’t we, Laurie? And we’re in a hurry, so if we can’t
find anything here, we’ll have to look elsewhere. And that would be such a
shame, because…” She left the rest hanging in the air. Poor Casey’s face turned
ashen. I could almost see her thoughts written across her forehead. Trying to
find the right dress for me, she’d messed up the entire warehouse and now she
feared we’d leave without purchasing anything.

“All right,” Casey said, pointing to a rack. “This one
caught your attention right from the beginning.” She gave Jude an exasperated
look as she pointed to the other racks. “The rest is supposed to match your
questionnaire. I suggest you go through them, and pick out what you like so we
can narrow your choice down a bit.”

“These look great. Thank you,” I said, scanning the
selection of gowns, and stood to inspect them closer. My fingers brushed over
chiffon sheaths and countless yards of tulle, and settled on a cream silk dress
with a ribboned embroidered bodice. No tulle. No ruffles. No trail. Just a
pure, clean silhouette that I could wear anywhere, which, for some reason,
mattered.

“It’s beautiful.” I nodded slowly, astonished by how soft
the fabric was.

“Good choice, Laurie. It’s absolutely stunning,” Jude
whispered behind me. “You should try it on.”

While she took a seat outside the fitting room, sipping the
glass of champagne Casey had offered her, I slipped on the dress. The moment I
stepped outside, I could her Jude swallow down a huge gulp of champagne, and
for a moment I feared the worst.

“What?” I asked anxiously, my hands brushing nervously over
the silky fabric. Both Jude and Casey had become quiet as they stared at me.
After what seemed like an eternity, Jude stood and inched closer, pressing her
hand against her chest.

“You have to have it, Laurie,” she whispered. “It’s
perfect.”

I knew that tone and the slight tremor in her voice. She was
mesmerized, just like I was. Completely sold. And she wouldn’t stop talking
about it until one of us purchased it.