Desperate Chances Page 8


“Damn, that sounds pretty freaking fantastic! Where do I sign up?” Maysie laughed. “But seriously, I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t fine on your own. We’re modern women after all. We don’t need a man.”

“But you have a man, don’t forget,” I reminded her with my patented Gracie Cook everything-is-fine-here smile plastered all over my mug. I flicked my hair over my shoulder. “Besides he has to be super hot and saves puppies in his spare time for me to even bother.”

“Well of course,” Maysie agreed, patting my knee.

“Well of course what?” Vivian asked, coming out from her bedroom.

“That was a quick conversation. Did Cole even have a chance to put his hands in his pants?” I asked, tongue in cheek.

Vivian pursed her lips. “They were on their way to get something to eat. He said he’d call me later.”

“How did he seem?” I asked after she sat down on the chair opposite us.

“He seemed okay. He mentioned that Josh had called Mitch earlier and given him some advice but Cole didn’t get into specifics.”

Mitch. Ugh. Cue stomach clenching and butterflies.

“Oh. Well that’s good. Josh is a great guy,” I said lamely. Josh was Mitch’s cousin who had helped schedule Generation Rejects’ very first tour years ago. He had been working in the music industry for long enough to know the ropes.

“Let’s talk about something more upbeat,” Vivian remarked, changing the subject abruptly. “How about the wedding? Have you and Jordan finally set a date?” she asked Maysie.

Maysie ducked her head and started playing with a piece of string on the hem of her shirt. “Well it’s hard to plan a wedding when we’re on the road all the time,” she excused and Vivian and I both groaned.

“Come on! You’ve been engaged for forever! Are you going to be one of those couples who won’t get married until you have grandkids?” I asked her, nudging her knee with mine.

Maysie threw her hands up in the air. “I’m surrounded by men most of the time and Jordan is zero help! We know we want to get married this summer. Probably in August. But every time I try to talk to him about it all he says is ‘whatever you want, baby.’” We all started laughing at Maysie’s dead on imitation of her fiancé.

“What about your mom? Could she help you?” Vivian asked hesitantly. Maysie’s relationship with her parents was rocky. It was one of the things that had always connected us. We both understood what it was like to dislike your parents as much as you loved them.

“She’s happy for me, I guess. Though it’s hard to know behind that thin layer of disapproval. It’s difficult to ask for wedding planning help when I’m fending off the usual when are you going to do something with your life questions. Apparently running the band’s social media platforms, maintaining their website and interfacing with the marketing department of the record label isn’t good enough for her. And let’s not even bring up my dad’s feelings about my life,” Maysie huffed.

“Well, we’d love to help you. Hello! Flowers, decorations, cake tasting! I’m all over it,” I enthused.

Vivian was practically bouncing up and down in her chair. “Oh my god, Mays, let us help you! We’ll make it fabulous!”

Maysie face split into a large grin. “You girls are the best. What would I do without you?”

“Get married on the tour bus, and then eat pizza and drink Bud Light at your reception?” I offered.

Vivian leaned down and pulled out a stack of magazines from the side of the coffee table. “It so happens I just bought the newest bridal magazines the other day.”

Maysie and I exchanged a look, each of us raising our eyebrows in surprise. “You’ve been buying bridal magazines?” Maysie asked, not able to hide her amusement.

“Does Cole know what you do in your spare time?” I teased.

Cole Brandt and marriage seemed as incongruous as eggs and ketchup. Some things just weren’t meant to go together.

Vivian stiffened marginally and I wondered if this was a sore spot for her. “A girl can dream, right?” she said breezily. She opened up the magazine on top and flipped through the pages until she landed on a page that had been dog-eared.

“Look at this dress. I saw it and immediately thought of you,” she exclaimed, handing it to Maysie.

I scootched over and looked down at the beautiful woman in a sleeveless wedding gown. It was pretty simple. No long train or elaborate stitching. It was tasteful with a straight skirt that ran to the floor. The scooped neckline was plain but for a line of beads stitched along the edge.

“Wow, it’s amazing,” Maysie breathed, her face going all dewy.

“That dress is perfect for a summer wedding! Oh! You should have an outdoor ceremony. Something small. Just friends and family. Maybe you could have it in the meadow behind Garrett’s. The one that borders the river!” Vivian continued.

“That sounds perfect,” Maysie smiled, running her fingers along the lines of the dress.

“So figure out what day in August you want to get hitched so we can start planning. I think everyone could use something to look forward to,” I suggested.

“Oh my god, we have to wear these bridesmaid dresses!” Vivian squealed, pulling the magazine from Maysie’s lap and turning to another page. When she pointed to a dress I made a face.

“No way, Viv. You are not going to get me in a dress with rhinestones!” I shrieked.

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