CHAPTER 18
NICK WASN’T KIDDING when he said he could sort out a dress. An hour and a half later, Bradley arrived, followed by a pair of assistants each carrying an armful of garment bags. They were followed by two other women, who he introduced as the nail technician and the masseuse.
The masseuse?
The remainder of the afternoon passed in a blur. I was poked, prodded, primped, and pampered until not an inch of me remained untouched. Bradley did my hair himself, chopping layers into it until it sat just below my shoulders and adding some golden highlights to my natural mousey brown. It sure beat my usual visit to student night at a local salon.
Next came the gown. Bradley had the two assistants zip me into dress after dress, and I was beginning to despair of ever leaving the house when
