Steph gave me a look, then laughed. “Somebody had a little too much last night, I heard.”

I lifted my middle finger to her. She was Lizzie’s only other bridesmaid. I still couldn’t decide if it was sad or sweet that my sister didn’t have any friends good enough to join our ranks. Or maybe she just cared that much about her sisters.

I glanced at her and laughed, despite the thumping in my head. “I don’t think I can remember the last time I saw you in pink. You look adorable.”

Now it was Steph’s turn to give me her middle finger. “Stuff it.”

We chatted off and on for the hour or so that we were getting done up. I never once mentioned all the things going on in my head about Dean, though. I didn’t even mention the painful dream I’d had last night. I couldn’t remember all of it, but the scraps made me pretty sure Dean had sat down and confessed he really did love me, but he was trying to break things off for my own good. I couldn’t remember what Dream Dean had thought was the grand reason I was better off without him. Either way, even the memory stung.

Why couldn’t real guys be more like the ones in my dreams? Was that so much to ask?

We stopped by Harper’s restaurant in the Ashford Inn once we were finished getting ready. Our task was to make sure everything was going okay and to taste test some of the treats we’d be having before dinner.

Harper served us some crab meat wontons first, which I thought was a somewhat strange choice for an appetizer, considering the main course was French. They were crunchy, creamy, and delicious. She’d even whipped up her own dipping sauce that had a tangy bite, which was the perfect compliment.

“You doing alright?” Harper asked me once we’d worked our way through the taste tests for Lizzie. “I heard about last night.”

Steph snorted. “Whatever you heard wasn’t as embarrassing or awkward as the real thing. Trust me on that.”

I swatted at her. “Fine. Just a headache,” I said.

“Here,” Harper said. “Let me grab you something.”

A minute later, she came back with a steaming chunk of bread and a to-go cup filled with ice water. “Try to get these down. I doubt it’ll cure you, but it might help.”

“Thanks,” I said.

After Harper’s, we were on to the venue itself. Lizzie had given us a checklist of items to go over with Mom and Dad once we arrived. My mom gave me a painful look that said she was both ashamed of how I’d acted last night but sympathetic of my feelings enough to not bring it up. At least she wasn’t going to confront me about it on Lizzie’s wedding day. Small victories.

We ran through all the items, making sure the centerpieces on the tables were all the correct shades of cream and purple–not violet, which was a point Lizzie had been adamant about. We were told to spray the vine wall with water, which was odd, but we did it anyway. We even had to go to the nearby stables to make sure the owner of the farm where Lizzie’s wedding was being held would have his horses out of range for the ceremony.