Chapter Twenty-Two
Jen
Two quickies, lunch, a nap, and then I needed to meet with Mom, Shelley, and my friends to pick dresses. I left Dylan out on the balcony with his guitar and a notepad.
The bridal shop Beth picked wasn’t the cheapest option, but he’d given me his credit card. Paying for the wedding—or most of it—was the one place he’d put his foot down, saying what was the point of being a millionaire if it just sat in the bank.
When I stepped inside, I was glad I hadn’t argued. The store I used for my first wedding was packed to the gills with smooshed-together dresses, mostly all one or two sizes, with the only wide path going from the dressing rooms to the dais in front of the mirrors. This place was set up with mannequins in gorgeous wedding dresses posed like models that pick
