Free The Seven Month Itch by Allison Rushby Page B

dressmaker. Holly recommended her to us, as she’d worked with her on a film once and thought her ideas were great. ‘We really need to get going with those fittings. Nessa, if I could have you first?’
    ‘Sorry, Jacqui.’ I jump up, giving the occasion the urgency it deserves. With all the marriage licence fuss going on, I’d completely forgotten about the fitting.
    Alexa looks up at me from the front step. ‘Here, give me the folder while you’re inside,’ she says.
    I hand it down to her. ‘Sure. But it’s not there. Believe me, I’ve checked about three million times.’

    Just as Jacqui’s sticking me (well, okay, not me, but my dress) with her last pin, Alexa bursts into the shop with a grin on her face. ‘All sorted,’ she says.
    ‘What? You found it?’ I whip around in my gorgeous teal vintage Jean Patou rip-off. (My dad was hardly going to shell out thousands for a real one, was he? Plus, he had to pay for Alexa’s Louis Verdad rip-off. Good thing we can read InStyle as well as the next girl, huh?)
    Alexa shakes her head, but she’s still pleased with herself. ‘Nope. It’s definitely not there. But guess what? You don’t need the piece of paper there on the day. As long as the licence has been applied for, it’s okay.’
    ‘It’s okay?!’
    Alexa nods, still grinning. I jump down off the wooden platform I’m standing on and hug her – only to jump back equally quickly when I get stuck by a pin. ‘Ow!’
    ‘That’s it, Nessa. You can take your dress off now. Carefully. You’re ready, Alexa?’ Jacqui asks.
    My ordeal now over, I go and peel the dress off me, and put my own clothes back on. I return to watch my best friend take her turn at being Jacqui’s human pincushion.
    ‘I can’t believe that about Susannah,’ Alexa says,shaking her head as Jacqui works on the hem of her dress. ‘Do you really think she took it? That she has a thing for your dad or something?’
    I think about Susannah. About her cupcake-frosting-on-my-dad’s-beard giggles and her mole-sauce finger licking and her innocent-eyed wedding folder stuffing. But does she really have a thing for my dad? I simply don’t know. ‘I know she likes him …’ I begin. Hmmm. Just like The Girl had liked her older, married neighbour in The Seven Year Itch .
    ‘Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe it just slipped underneath something, like the sofa, or under the pantry door.’
    I shake my head. ‘I looked everywhere .’
    ‘It’ll turn up.’
    I wish I could be as positive as Alexa. ‘I hope so. Oh, sorry …’ I say, to both Jacqui and Alexa, as my cell phone starts ringing. ‘I’d better take it. Wedding stuff.’
    ‘Hey, Ness. I’ve got a question for you.’ It’s Marc.
    I frown. ‘What’s that?’
    ‘What did the blonde customer say to the busty waitress after she’d read her name tag?’
    I sigh. ‘What?’
    ‘“Debbie”, that’s cute. What did you name the other one?’
    I’m not amused. ‘Marc, I really don’t have time for this now.’ I turn away from Alexa and Jacqui. The last thing I feel like at the moment is having dumb-blonde jokes hurled at me.
    ‘I’ve got another question,’ he says.
    ‘Marc …’
    ‘No, really. Is everything okay over there? I haven’t heard from you in a bit.’
    I bite my lip and stare at the distressed wooden floorboards. ‘Um, everything’s fine,’ I lie. ‘I’m just busy. You know, with the wedding plans. Sorry I haven’t had time to IM you or anything.’
    ‘That’s okay. I just wanted to check in with you. Is there anything I can do?’
    Sure – come back and frisk Susannah for the marriage licence! That’d be a great start (and I’m sure he could use all his fabulous dumb-blonde jokes to impress her), but it’s not what I say, of course. ‘Thanks, Marc, but it’s all under control. I’m going to have to run now, though. I’m in the middle of my bridesmaid dress fitting.’
    On the other end of the line, Marc pauses. ‘Ness, is everything