All's Fair in Love and Las Vegas

Chapter Seventy-Three

        Like a limp noodle, I took two steps forward. I didn't want him to see me like this, not only sad, but also wearing something so revealing and so stiff. But I had to get through this, even if the photos turned out terrible.

        Grayson, sweet, thoughtful, caring Grayson, took one look at me and knew. He knew how disgusted with myself I felt. I saw it in his eyes, the way his smile sank and broke before me. His sympathy was too much; my lip trembled and two seconds later I was crying into my hands, unable to handle this shame.

        "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, instantly yanking off his jacket and pulling it around my shoulders, helping my arms go through the sleeves. As soon as it was on, he pulled me into a tight hug, whispering, "Jacks, I'm so sorry, darling."

        "I'm sorry," I sniffled. "It's stupid." 

        "No, no, it's not stupid," he said, cradling my head to his chest, his hand carefully on the back of my neck so as not to ruin my elaborate hairstyle.

        "It is, it's just a dress," I said, still sobbing.

        Grayson held my body a little closer. "Jackie, it's not just a dress, I know how much you wanted it to be nice."

        "It's still nice," I tried convincing both of us, even though I was still actively crying.

        He kissed the side of my head, murmuring, "You'll always be beautiful to me, but this dress isn't you. You look nice, but if you really had the dress you liked you'd be radiant."

        "It doesn't matter. The ceremony is in a half hour and I have no other wedding dresses," I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut. 

        "No, no, we're not giving up," he said, pulling away and gently taking my hands in his.

        I was confused. "It's a fact, not a battle."

        "We're getting your dress. The one you wanted," Grayson said, taking his phone out of his back pocket.

        "They don't have it," I told him, carefully swiping tears from my eyes so as not to disturb my makeup.

        He snorted. "I'd bet you five million dollars they do."

        "Then why didn't they give it to us?" I asked, almost too exhausted to put up much of a fight.

        "Because I'm guessing someone gave them a million dollars," he replied, making my eyes go wide.

        I lowered my voice, whispering, "Really?"

        "Yeah, really. What's another million dollars to someone who wishes to exercise control over the most perfect wedding ever to happen in the existence of humanity?" he said. I looked over his shoulder to see that he had texted Rylie for the number of the dress shop. This was really happening.

        A couple seconds later, he put the phone to his ear. I glanced over at the photographer, who was anxiously fiddling with her camera. Something must've broken. Good; more time to stall.

        "Yes, hi, this is Grayson Answell," Grayson Answell said into the phone. "I'm calling about an order for one Jackie Answell."

        There was a pause and he said, "Are you absolutely certain it's not there? We're in desperate need of it."

        More talking on the other end. He got a devious glint in his eye and said, "Hmm, really. Because she told me she doesn't have it. I don't suppose I could...convince you to check your stockroom?"