Page 1 of My So-Called Perfect Life

Chapter One

Danielle

“Tilt your head to theside just a bit, Danielle.”

I follow Mark, the photographer’s, instructions, while holding my smile. Not that it’s hard. Happiness bursts inside my chest so bright it rivals the hot June sun beating down on us as we stand outside the gazebo on the rooftop garden at the hotel.

“Good. Good.” Mark says as he snaps away. “Now, Mom and Dad, let’s get you and the bride. Go ahead and stand beside Danielle.”

Mom smiles as she joins me. “You look so pretty, darling.”

My father kisses my forehead. “My beautiful Sweet Pea.”

Mark takes what feels like one hundred more photos before calling over my sister, who is also my maid of honor.

“Amelia,” I call out to her when she doesn’t respond to Mark.

She stands, huddled with my best friend, Mercy, who rounds up my bridal party on the other side of the garden.

Either they don’t hear us or they’re ignoring our attempts to get their attention.

“Come on, Amelia,” I say, heading across the garden to where they are. “We need to keep on schedule, guys. I have spent hours carefully crafting every detail of this wedding. Everything will be perfect as long as we follow the plan.”

There’s so much going on today. So much that has to be done and in a specific order to make sure it all goes off without a hitch.

Scott and I have been together for six years. We met on my twenty-first birthday. He approached me at a party on campus. I was wearing a birthday sash, and he said he just had to wish the prettiest girl in the room a happy birthday. I swooned right there. From then on, Scott Lewis has been the picture-perfect boyfriend and then fiancé. We’re college sweethearts. Fell in love our junior year and never looked back.

I’ve been dreaming of my wedding day for the last fourteen months. I’m looking forward to the moment Scott sees me in my dream Carolina Herrera dress, all done up. I want this moment to be etched in his mind forever. And mine. I’ve dreamed about how his eyes will mist up. How he’ll wipe a stray tear or two away as I walk toward him. How he’ll tell me I’m the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

My sisterwill notdelay my moment. Amelia is perpetually late. I’m not even sure how she’s kept her job for so long, considering everything runs on Amelia time.Not today. Today we run on Danielle time for a change.

“Earth to Amelia,” I say as I get closer to them. “Stop messing around, guys. Let’s go.”

Amelia turns toward me. She looks green--something’s wrong. She’s pale. Her eyes, which are the same whiskey hue as mine, look slightly glassy.

“You don’t look so good,” I tell her.

“She looks fine,” Mercy says, trying to step in front of her. “I told you green wasn’t the best color, but you didn’t want to listen to me.”

“Either way, just ten minutes ago, she was demonstrating how she couldn’t wait toback her ass all upon Scott’s ‘hot-as-balls’ cousin. Now, she looks like someone just murdered her puppy. What’s wrong, Ams? Please tell me you’re not going to be sick,” I say. “I told you buying a breakfast burrito from that food truck wasn’t a good idea.”

Please don’t throw up on the dress.Puke stains will not look good in my wedding photos. Can something like that be Photoshopped out?

It will also seriously impact getting everything done in the next half hour. I didn’t factor in vomit breaks when I planned today out.

“We have thirty minutes to finish these pictures and do final touch-ups before we walk down the aisle! Come on, ladies,” I say trying to get them back on track.

Mercy nudges Amelia’s arm with her shoulder, and Amelia gives her a stiff shake of her head. Mercy glances down at something they’re hiding between them as she steps closer to Amelia.

A silent conversation passes between them through looks and glares and short head movements, but neither says a word.

“What the hell are you two doing?”I don’t have time for this. “What’s wrong? Do I have lipstick on my teeth?” I run my tongue over my teeth when a horrible thought hits me. I gasp. “Do I have a stain on my dress? Dad’s Bloody Mary? Damn it! I told him to stay away from me. I knew I should’ve told them no tomato juice at the bar! Where’s the stain? Can we hide it?”

I look down, frantically trying to spot any red on my dress.

“Tell her, Amelia.” Mercy pushes her forward.

Amelia shakes her head.