The second standalone romance in Stefanie London’s Greek Billionaires series is out now, and I have an excerpt for you.
Maybe she was dreaming. It seemed the only logical explanation for this crazy-ass Twilight Zone she’d landed in. One where she was trying on wedding dresses and constantly talking about her love of stuffed animals while everybody acted as though it was a perfectly normal thing to do.
“Now, I always say that a bride knows the dress is ‘the one’ in much the same way they knew their fiancée was ‘the one.’” Annalisa ran her hand over a small rack of gowns, pushing the hangers to one side as if looking for something. Each hanger made a slight sound as it was pushed aside. Clink, clink, clink.“ You’ll get a flutter in your tummy. A special tingly feeling that tells you something special is about to happen.”
Ugh, one ticket to vom town please. Pass me a bucket.
This whole frou-frou thing was so not Sophia’s jam. She’s always envisaged a simple wedding day—close friends and family, only. A simple dress, maybe in white. Maybe in something softer like cream or eggshell. Perhaps even a pale gold. Certainly no ball gowns and diamantes and tulle. She could see herself skipping a veil altogether, holding a handful of flowers picked from someone’s garden. Maybe she’d even stick one behind her ear.
Oh. Dear. Lord.
“Why don’t we start with this one?” Annalisa beamed as she held up what looked to be a wedding gown that has consumed several smaller wedding gowns like some kind of grotesque satin and sequin-encrusted monster. “What do you think?”
It looked exactly like the kind of thing “Fake Sophia” would enjoy.
“It’s very…artistic.” Her voice almost gave out on the last word.
“Let’s get you into it. There’s no way to know how it’s going to look until we put it on you.” Annalisa motioned for her assistant to come over and help Sophia into the dress.
She stripped down and climbed into the dress. It took the other two women to lift it up and get it over the shoulders, that’s how much beading there was. A giant silk and organza flower sat on one shoulder and another rested on her opposite hip. The enormous skirt was poufy and made of so many layers that Sophia had no idea how she wouldn’t melt in such a dress. Not to mention the fact that it was so tight she could barely breathe. As the assistant did the buttons up at her back, Sophia wanted to cry.
This wasn’t a wedding dress, it was a torture device!
“How do you feel?” Annalisa beamed. “We chose this one for you to try on because Dion told us how you seem to love lots of details in your outfits.”
Translation: you dress like a freak.
“It’s a designer piece.” She rolled off the name of the designer, though Sophia didn’t recognize it. Why would she? Until two weeks ago she had no idea she was supposed to be getting married. “Let’s put on the matching headpiece too, so we can get the full effect.”
The assistant produced a large flower, that they clipped to the side of her head. It was so hideous, she was almost rendered speechless. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“It’s definitely a statement piece.”
Sophia was aware of that, but she was sure the statement it made to her wasn’t quite what Annalisa or the designer intended.
“And don’t worry,” Annalisa continued. “If you don’t completely love this one, I have fifteen more dresses picked out.”
Fifteen. More. Dresses.
Kill me now.
If she was forced to try on everyone one, then it might simply be easier to let herself be eaten by the tulle monster. She could go peacefully into the night, surrounded by white satin and billowing fabrics. It would be dramatic sure, but she could pretend she was in an 80’s power ballad film clip. Maybe David Bowie would be waiting for her at the pearly gates of heaven.
“Ready to show your man?” Annalisa clapped her hands together. “This is always my favorite bit.”
It was official. Sophia was going to die of mortification in the ugliest wedding dress in history. For some reason, the thought of Dion seeing her like this made her feel so much worse than all the outrageous outfits she’d picked for herself. At least those ones had come under her control. But the thought of having to go out in public looking like this…
Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “I don’t have words.”