I was teaching summer school up until yesterday. Such a shame you couldn’t make it to Cork to attend the earlier fittings. Claudette, my designer, needs to check the fit.

Muireann draped the dress across the queen-sized bed and pivoted on her heels. Why had she let Bridie talk her into participating in this farce? She’d bloody well known Muireann would do something to humiliate her.

Tattoos aren’t ladylike.īut being a total bitch was? Fiona gave a mental headshake. Gavin’s a man, Muireann said with a sniff.

What do you know about Gavin’s tattoos?įeck! Curse her for a fool for speaking without thinking. In that case, I guess your groom will be wearing a high-necked collar. But she doesn’t feel it’s proper to show tattoos in church. If you find my appearance offensive, why did you ask me to be your maid of honor? Plus, continued Muireann, the long sleeves will cover your tattoos.įiona shifted her weight from one lace-up boot to the other. Half an hour back in Ballybeg and Muireann’s company, and all her old insecurities had come flooding back. Over the years in Dublin, she’d shed her body-image issues and learned to embrace her curves. And neither, it seemed, had Fiona’s reactions to Muireann’s jibes. What better way for Muireann to emphasize her own petite figure than to contrast it with her heifer of a cousin?Ī lot had changed in the eight years since Fiona left Ballybeg, but her cousin had not. In other words, she knew the dress would draw attention to Fiona’s childbearing hips and thunder thighs. I thought the design particularly well suited to someone with your physique. She’d lose it somewhere between here and the church.

Who the feck chose chartreuse and maroon for their wedding colors? And what in the bejaysus was that thing at the end of the dress? Is that a fin? She poked at the stiff fabric. Maroon is so draining on brunettes, don’t you think?įiona grimaced. She took down the hanger and held the dress against Fiona. Since you’re my maid of honor, I wanted you to wear something special.įiona tongued her lip ring and squinted at the satin monstrosity hanging in her cousin’s walk-in wardrobe. Isn’t your dress gorgeous? The evil fairy of the moment, Fiona’s cousin, Muireann, displayed dazzling white teeth set in a saccharine smile. If an evil fairy conjured Fiona’s personal hell, it would be this wedding.

Love and shenanigans by zara keane