The Bad Boy's Princess

Chapter 23

30 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING

"Arabella! How are you, future daughter?" Paige asks.

"Um, daughter in law I think you mean." I correct her.

"Ah yes. Well, how are you?" She asks.

"I'm okay I guess." I lie. I'm not okay. I'm getting married in what – a month? And I don't even love the guy.

I did send an invitation to Jackson to my wedding though, I can only hope he comes.

* * *

27 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING

"I think I love this colour," Paige says. She holds up an olive-green piece of fabric and I cringe. The store manager goes and brings out an ugly olive-green dress, and Paige speaks again, "I think spaghetti straps would look better, how will the dress stay up when it's off the shoulder?"

Spaghetti straps? For the bridesmaids? What year are we in, 2000? Are we going to have low rise jeans and G-strings that show out of them? Butterfly clips and Hubba Bubba? Seriously. Paige is really sweet and all but she's annoying and running the show over here. Pretty sure she's the grooms' mother. I thought the I was the one supposed to be going bridezilla. But nope – I like this colour, make the straps different, listen to me I'm the one in charger blah, blah blah, blah blah.

"Arabella?" Someone calls my name.

"Huh?" I reply, still dazed.

"I want you to try on this dress."

Here we go..

Do I even want Jackson to come to the wedding?

* * *

20 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING

"Which cake is your favourite darling?" Paige asks.

"Mum, honestly I like them all." Robert answers.

"Really? Arabella, can you believe you're getting married to this guy?" Paige asks, chuckling afterwards, patting Robert on the shoulder "You know I'm joking dear."

No Paige, I can't believe I'm getting married to this guy.

What if Jackson comes to the wedding and gets mad and punches Robert in the face or something?

* * *

15 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING

"GUESS WHO'S GETTING MARRIED TO MY SON IN TWO WEEKS!!!!"

To say Paige was tipsy was an understatement. She was flat out drunk. She was going to have a killer hangover tomorrow.

"THIS GAL!!!!" Paige screams, standing up and pointing at me, spilling some of her god-knows-what cocktail all over us, not on purpose. "Oh no! WHO STOLE MY MARTINI?!" She screams, looking around.

"Paige, you didn't have a martini, it was just Vodka with raspberry cordial and an olive." Debra, my maid of honour that I've known for an hour says.

"Oh," Paige says, "Well I need more. HEY SEXY STRIPPERS!!!!! THIS GIRL IS A BRIDE TO BE!!!!!!!" She calls out before falling off the table and hitting her head.

Everyone in the club glances at her before looking back to their friends or the half-naked men around.

"OH, MY GOD IS SHE OKAY??" Debra gasps, dropping to the floor and looking at Paige, who has her eyes closed and is slurring immensely.

"She's fine, I'm sober I can take her home." I say.

"Are you sure?" Debra says, the other three bridesmaids I haven't spoken to ever are watching, but give up and look back to the barely clothed men on stage.