Turns out Lyle was wise to send a chaperone on today’s excursion. I don’t know how smart it was to send one with the build and charisma of The Rock, but my girls certainly are entertained.

“Hello ladies.” A young sales associate who looks like she could walk the runway with her long, lean legs and rail thin figure greets us with a smile. “My name’s Misha, and I’ll be happy to take care of you today.”

“Thanks.” I smile back, trying to read her face to see if she knows who I am. Or who my husband, is rather. If she does, she’s not giving anything away. “I’m looking for something to wear to a courthouse wedding.”

“I see,” she says, tapping a pen to her lip. “And who’s the lucky bride?” Her crystal blue eyes pause on each of us curiously.

“A friend,” Lizzie rushes to answer, giving us all a warning glare that has us shutting our traps on impact.

I wonder if that momma look comes naturally once you pop a kid out. It’s quite impressive, and I sure hope I get one even half as intimidating as hers.

Hear that? You’re gonna walk a chalk line, little bean.

I fight the urge to cup my tiny baby bump while giggling to myself, remembering not to draw attention to this pregnancy that is still very much a secret. Because I know damn well I’ll be the biggest pushover, and if anyone’s gonna be walking any line, it’ll be me.

Once we’ve been directed to an area filled with everything from formal to semi-formal dresses, and Misha’s become occupied elsewhere, Lizzie explains herself.

“As far as the public is concerned, you’re already married, Sammi.”

Of course. “Right.”

“Just don’t give them anything else to print. From now on everyone is a potential source. From the sweet sales associate at your favorite boutique to the woman giving you a pedicure. You can’t trust anyone.”

“Well that’s depressing,” Darci grumbles, flipping through a rack of pink dresses in varied styles and cuts like she’s on a mission.

“People are vicious, and the media will go to any lengths for a story. For the foreseeable future, consider yourself under a microscope.”

“Just ’til they move on to the next big thing,” Margo offers. “Right?”

Lizzie shrugs. “Best to get in the habit of erring on the side of caution.”

“I think you should go for something like this,” Darci says, pulling a blush, lace and tulle dress from the rack. “The deep V neckline is perfect to accentuate those temporary titties.”

“Shhh,” I say, slapping a hand over her mouth.

Lizzie sighs dramatically. “These bitches are gonna have you in the paper daily.”