Free Stop the Wedding! by Stephanie Bond

look, not even with a dozen tools and two cans of hair spray. She worked her mouth from side to side, one plastic hanger under her chin and one mid-navel. The fabric was more sheer than she’d realized, but she liked the extra details—
    A motion in the glass window to her left snagged her attention. She squinted, then walked closer. Martin Castleberry stood a few feet away on the other side of a glass divider, talking to—no, hugging a very young, very attractive woman. Incredulous, she pressed her nose against the glass. The neighboring store was a posh men’s clothing boutique, and Martin’s curvaceous companion seemed to be selecting ties for him, which apparently required that she touch him everywhere. Annabelle fumed—she’d caught him red-handed, the flirt!
    Then in a flash her anger changed to triumph: She’d caught him red-handed. Now all she had to do was drag her mother over to witness his outrageous behavior, and this farce of a wedding would be off.
    She turned on her heel and jogged back to the dress department where Belle seemed torn between a pale yellow suit and a coral-colored tea-length dress.
    “Mother,” she said in a sweet voice. “You’ll never guess who’s here.”
    “Who, dear?”
    “Melvin.”
    Her mother’s brow wrinkled.
    “I mean Martin.”
    Belle brightened. “Really? How wonderful! Where is he?”
    “Right next door at a men’s clothing store—let’s go say hello.” Annabelle tucked the underwear beneath her arm and transferred a dress out of her mother’s hand to the sales clerk’s.
    Her mother looked puzzled at her sudden burst of enthusiasm, but followed willingly enough when Annabelle grasped her elbow.
    “Martin must be shopping for something new,” Belle offered, giving a worried backward glance at the abandoned dresses.
    “That’s one way to put it,” Annabelle muttered, urging her forward.
    As they threaded through racks of evening gowns, dressy suits, and elaborate wraps, her heart beat faster with bittersweet anticipation. Her mother would be hurt at first, but would soon realize she was better off sans Martin Castleberry. What luck to have stumbled onto the man while he sported his true colors—at least Annabelle wouldn’t wind up looking like the bad guy for saying less than favorable things about him. Cheered, she picked up her pace as she led her mother across the pale marble floor.
    They exited the bridal shop and Annabelle practically dragged her mother into the men’s clothing store. Thankfully, Martin and his young lady friend were still there. The woman was looping a green and navy striped tie around his neck and tying it with long, manicured fingers. She was smiling wide with her head tilted back, her long flaxen hair streaming nearly to her impossibly small waist. And Martin, ever the entertainer, seemed to be simply delighted with the ugly tie. Annabelle kept her gaze glued on his face for the sheer satisfaction of his expression when he noticed her mother.
    A split second later he looked over the blonde’s shoulder and his face erupted into a wide grin. “Belle! What a lovely surprise.”
    “Hello, my dear.” Her mother smiled, seemingly unconcerned that another woman was draped over her intended. He sidestepped the young woman, and met Belle for a quick kiss on the mouth.
    Martin extended a greeting to Annabelle, as if absolutely nothing was amiss. She could see why the man had been nominated for an Academy Award. “Martin,” she said in her most innocent voice, “aren’t you going to introduce your friend?”
    As she expected, his brow furrowed in feigned perplexity. “My friend?” He followed Annabelle’s pointed look toward the young woman who stood watching them with a questioning expression. “Oh, my friend .” He beckoned the woman closer. A blip of panic assailed Annabelle when she saw the woman’s salesclerk badge. “This is Suzanne Jacobson. Suzanne’s father is my long-time friend and assistant—I was in the