Page 1 of Spark (Lust & Luster)

Aryanna

The temperatures in Atlanta were not supposed to be this hot and muggy in early April. They think we may hit the double trips—triple-digit temps with triple-digit humidity—without it actually raining. I’ve not even left my hotel room yet, and I’m miserable. The mosquitos’ song and the bug zappers frying fill my ears as my stress increases.

I look at the cage—and I do mean a cage—of hoops for my bridesmaid’s dress. There are three hoops of graduated sizes attached to a sheer skirt, and if I had to guess, the bottom hoop is a solid three feet in circumference. As a bonus, a corset is attached, and it will cinch my waist and squish these monstrous breasts of mine up high.

It’s not just the cut of the dress that isn’t my taste, but the print on the heavy silk organza. The background is ivory, and the dress is covered with red roses the size of my palm with leaves, which cup the red flower, the size of my hand. In addition to the hoops ensuring a full skirt, I have an ivory lace parasol, gloves that thankfully only cover my hands, and a green fascinator with a red feather.

Not my taste.

I step into the cage. I try adjusting the corset and realize I’m going to be amazingly uncomfortable for the next eight or so hours. Yet this twenty-two-hundred-dollar, one-time-use outfit is essential to my childhood best friend, Alicia McKay, also known as the bride.

There’s a knock at my door. I look at the dress again, and I’m not sure I can do it on my own. “Who is it?” I call.

“It’s me, Roxanne. I need some help.”

“Just a minute.”

Roxanne King is one of the other bridesmaids. I met her this morning at breakfast. She lives in Chicago and works for some sort of public relations agency. She and Alicia were in a college sorority together, as were the other four bridesmaids.

I try to walk down the hallway to open the door, but I don’t fit. “Oh, for goodness sake!”

“Try holding the hoops up and at an angle,” Roxanne yells through the door.

It’s awkward but I manage to get to the door. “You’re a genius!” I swing it open to see Roxanne with the hotel bathrobe around her shoulders and the dress over her arm.

She looks at me. “I need help, and I bet you do, too.”

Roxanne has spiral curls in her hair, and she’s flushed. “I couldn’t get the damn ugly thing on.”

I nod, moving back down the hallway. “I was just trying to figure out how to make it work.” I pull the dress over my head and get stuck. “How are we going to get this home?”

“I was considering burning mine,” Roxanne says as she untangles the silk mess and lifts it off my head.

I breathe the fresh air. “That’s a good idea.”

We navigate into the main room and look at each other. “I’ll help you first,” I offer.

“I’d better go pee before I put this thing on. You know there won’t be a bathroom that fits these blasted hoops.”

I throw my head back and look at the ceiling. “You’re so right. You first.”

“You know,” I yell to her while she does her business, “it’s the shoes I was worried about.”

“Those are definitely going to suck,” she agrees.

After we’ve both emptied our bladders and packed some makeup to freshen up with, we stand looking at the dresses.

“Have you ever seen anything so…”

“Cliché Southern?” I supply.

“Yes!”

“You first.” I reach over and pick up her dress. Carefully I gather it so I don’t mess up her beautiful hair. It takes some work to lay the heavy silk over the cage, but I get it done. “There.”

She shakes her head. “This thing is heavy. I think we pack flip-flops and yoga pants for the reception.”

“I like the way you think.”

“I’ve got my eye on one of the groomsmen, and this thing will ruin any chance of getting any. Isn’t that what a wedding is supposed to be?”

“Not for me,” I assure her. “I’ve got too much going on to have a weekend of debauchery.”

“Well, more for me,” Roxanne says over her shoulder as she gathers her dress and moves into position to help me. “Bring on the naughty!”

Eventually, I’m dressed, too. Roxanne runs back to her room, and I put a change of clothes in a small bag before heading out to the hallway. Roxanne and I barely fit in the elevator together, and only because we’ve picked up the cages beneath our skirt and are holding them at an awkward forty-five-degree angle.

“Do you think Alicia wanted us to look this bad?” Roxanne asks.

I chuckle. I think part of the reason Alicia moved to Atlanta is that she was enamored with the lifestyle. And that evolved into wanting what she called “a true Southern wedding.”

“We look like we belong on a movie set, not a wedding party,” Roxanne says as she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the elevator door.

When we exit the elevator, it’s like every set of eyes in the Ritz Carlton hotel lobby finds us.

The wedding planner races up. “You’re the first to come down. I’m so glad you’re here.”

She looks us over. “Only one of us at a time is going to fit in that car.”

She turns to me. “You must be Aryanna Karimi. You missed your flight last night.”

I nod. “I did. I missed my connection in Dallas due to weather in San Francisco.”

“That’s why you should fly direct.”

I give her a strained smile. Connecting in Dallas saved me three hundred dollars, and right now I’m saving all I can, not to mention that this horrific dress put a big dent in my budget.

“I need you to go with Dante Marino,” she informs me. “You two get in the car and drive over to the church. Once you get there, someone from my staff will meet you and tell you where you need to be but we need the limo back here to shuttle the rest of the bridal party. So, please don’t dawdle.”

I nod. I am here to do as I’m told, not to challenge or be difficult. This is not my day. She directs me outside to the waiting stretch limousine. The driver is holding the door open. Reaching down, I lift the bottom hoop and the dress and slowly maneuver into the back seat of the limo. A guy I assume to be Dante is already sitting down, and his eyes go wide. I give him a strained smile.

I heave the rest of the dress into the car but to actually sit down, I need to drop the skirt of the dress, and when I do I fall into my seat with an umph. “Finally,” I mutter. My hat is somewhere, and the driver hands me the parasol. “Crap. Where’s the damn fascinator?”

“What’s a fascinator?” a rich, deep voice in the back of the limo asks.

“It’s a fancy hat.”

“Oh, I have it here on my lap.”

I sigh. “Good. I don’t want to be the only hot mess of a bridesmaid.”

Dante chuckles. “I doubt you’ll be the only one. You were dressed and downstairs on time. The others, I understand, are freaking out. I’m Dante, by the way.”

The dress comes up to my face while I’m sitting, and I can’t see over it or around to the voice behind it.

“You must really like Alicia to wear that dress,” he adds.

“I have to keep reminding myself of that. And I’m Aryanna.”

We’re quiet as we drive.

“This is quite the view,” he says.

I can’t see anything, and I’m trying to decide if I’m going to be sick.

“What do you call those white things you’re wearing? Knickers?”

My breath stills in my throat. I can’t see him, but he has a full view of what I have on under the cage. “I think the appropriate term is bloomers.” I close my eyes for a solid ten seconds. “This must be your dream. You meet a girl. Don’t have to worry about what she looks like. All you see is her coochie.”

I hear him snort. “Does Alicia hate you?”

Suddenly, I feel absolutely protective of my childhood best friend. “No! She wanted a Southern wedding. This is her day. It’s all about her, and I won’t complain.”

“You’re a loyal and devoted friend.”

“It’s not a bad dress. The structure was just meant for a much cooler day. And had the church changing area not been dealing with a broken pipe, we would have been just fine and changed there, rather than at the hotel.”

He starts to laugh.

“What is so funny?”

“Like you said, the only thing I can see is your coochie. It’s like it’s talking to me.”

“Just so you know, this coochie is off limits to you.”

“That’s okay. I usually like to see a woman’s face before I bend her over and take her nice and hard.”

I roll my eyes. But my insides do something very different—which I ignore. “Nice. I assume you talk to your mother with that mouth?”

“My parents died when I was fifteen.”

Great. I’m a fucking disaster. This is the guy I’m to spend most of the night with, and I’ve flashed him, threatened him, told him off, and now I brought up probably the worst moment of his life.

“I’m very sorry about your parents. When I was ten years old, I left mine in Iran. They sent me to a smuggler to get me out, and I went to live with an aunt in Los Angeles. I don’t know if they’re alive or dead.”

“That must be hard,” he says.

“I was lucky. But we’ve tried to locate them, but haven’t been successful.”

“That’s really tough.”

Thankfully we arrive at the church, and I don’t have to continue this conversation. And more importantly, someone is there to help me out of the car.

“—maybe if they just drive over in their bloomers,” she’s saying to someone as she opens the limo door. “We can collapse the cages in the back of the vehicle.”

“Hello,” she singsongs. “I’m Brittney, the wedding planner’s assistant.”

“Hello. I’m Aryanna Karimi.”

It takes a village to get me out. I hear a rip at one point, but we can’t figure out where it came from. Maybe I’m going to be okay.

Dante smirks, and I’m not finding a lot of humor in this.

“They’re not quite ready for us in the church,” Brittney explains. “The rest of the bridal party should be here shortly. Go ahead over by the tree and try to stay cool.”

I adjust my fascinator, grab the parasol, and go in search of shade. Dante has taken his coat off and draped it over his arm.

“So now that I’ve seen the bottom half, it’s nice to officially meet the top half.”

“I missed last night’s rehearsal and dinner. I got stuck in Dallas.”

“Why didn’t you take the direct flight?”

He’s wearing fifteen-hundred-dollar Ferragamo loafers and a custom-made tuxedo.

“Because it saved me three hundred dollars I don’t have right now.”

He nods. “I can see that. I live in San Francisco, too.”

I look at him, surprised.

“They mentioned you were flying from San Francisco.”

“Oh.” I sigh.

“As I said, it’s good to see your top half. I’m a breast man, and you definitely fill out the top of that dress nicely.”

“You’re not going to get laid this weekend,” I warn.

“Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? The bridesmaids and the groomsmen hookup?” Dante gives me a half-smile.

I snort. “It’s not on my list of duties.”

“It’s also nice to see there’s a beautiful face attached to the bloomers that gave me quite the visual on the ride over.”

“Your sweet talking is not going to convince me to go back to your room with you tonight.”

“The night is young,” he whispers and walks away.

Night? It’s four in the afternoon. I watch him saunter off, and his ass is mighty fine. That man is gorgeous, and he knows it. I can’t help but think that no matter what I say, I’m going home with him tonight, and I’m confident I won’t be disappointed.

I turn and Alicia’s mom is coming toward me. She greets me with open arms. “You made it!”

“I’m sorry I was late, Mrs. McKay. But I would have driven if I had to.”

“We’re just so happy you made it.”

“Well, I know Alicia didn’t need any extra stress. I’m sorry I contributed to it.”

She shakes her head. “I heard you were stuck in the limo.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal. I just needed some help. But we did fine. Don’t let this bother you. You’ve got plenty of other things to deal with. Has Mr. McKay arrived with the new wife?”

“Oh my God, that’s going to be the worst. She’s trash. We’ll be lucky if by the end of the ceremony we don’t need alcohol or bail money.”

“Or maybe both,” I offer, and we both laugh.

“Let’s go find the bride,” she says. “I have a cool pack on the back of her neck to keep her from overheating. When we looked at places this time last year, we were walking around in jeans and sweaters.”

We walk into a room off the back of the church, and I finally see Alicia. Her dress is form fitting down to a kick skirt, which also has a beautiful hoop in it.

“You’re a beautiful bride, just stunning,” I tell her.

Tears pool in her eyes. “I just want today to be a good day.”

I pull her in and blanket her in a hug. “It’s going to be a fantastic day, and you’re marrying the love of your life.”

“I just love him so much, and he’s so amazing. I feel like if I pinch myself, I’m going to wake up from a dream.”

I shake my head. “We all know that’s not true. Tom loves you, and today is your day.”

“Thank you so much for coming. What do you think of your dress?”

I can’t tell her the truth. “It’s beautiful and exactly what you wanted.”

Finally, all of the other bridesmaids arrive and as they arrange their dresses and accessories, the groomsmen take pictures with Alicia. I have no idea where the groom is hiding, but somewhere out of sight.

When it’s my turn to have a picture with Alicia, we push in close. My skirt poofs up behind me like I’m wearing more bustle than a hoop, but we don’t care.

The heat is oppressive, and the photographer pats us down with powder. Roxanne coughs. “Hope this isn’t the stuff that gave people cancer.” The photographer glares, and we hold our poses.

My feet are killing me. Some of the girls are complaining, but I hold Alicia’s hand and squeeze.

Then they usher Alicia out, and Tom arrives. We take pictures with him and then watch as he’s photographed with his groomsmen. They’re all quite handsome.

Roxanne leans over. “I think you’re partnered with the cutest of the bunch.”

“They’re all rather easy on the eyes.”

Roxanne leans over. “I bet a night with him would be one to remember.”

I smirk. “You’re welcome to try your luck.”

She laughs, and we turn back toward the photographer.

“Maybe tonight will be your night,” I offer.

“You don’t plan on hooking up with him?”

I shake my head. “We live in the same city. My luck would be that I run into him everywhere I go.”

“Why would that be unlucky? Could lead to a lot of great sex.”

I give her a look. “I have a feeling he’s a bit of a player.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He’s hot as sin,” I begin.

“Tell me about it.” Roxanne fans herself.

“And he’s too good at flirting.”

“Maybe you’re the one to change his ways?”

“Ha! I don’t think they change. Not really. They may settle down, but once a player, always a player.”

“I need Dante and Aryanna,” the photographer calls.

I excuse myself, and she positions me under a tree before moving Dante in. As she does, my skirt moves back. She adjusts him multiple times, but each time he stands close, the dress moves and loses its symmetry.

Dante chuckles. “It’s a modern-day chastity cage.”

Finally, the photographer figures out that if Dante can lean in to get close, it looks better. But then there are all my accessories to manage.

Still, the photographer is freaking out because she can’t get the pictures she wants, and the wedding planner is freaking out because we’re behind schedule.

And, the bride’s mother may soon be freaking out because she’s angry about the uninvited new wife here at the wedding. There’s no room for me to freak out, and I need to make sure Alicia is kept calm.

I look over and see the groomsmen exchanging flasks. That’s probably not going to help anything.

We eventually get the photos we need just as the guests begin to arrive. Before I know it, we’re finally inside, and the ceremony is underway.