Revenge Wears Prada: The Devil Returns. Lauren Weisberger

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      Andy nodded.

      ‘Oh, sweetheart, everything’s going to be just fine! A little case of the butterflies is perfectly normal. But those doors will open and you’ll see your handsome groom waiting at the end of the aisle for you … you won’t be able to think of anything in the world but walking into his arms.’

      Andy shuddered. Her soon-to-be-husband’s mother hated her. Or at least didn’t approve of the wedding. She knew most brides and their mothers-in-law had issues, but this went beyond. It was a bad omen at best, a potential nightmare at worst. Surely she could work on the relationship with Barbara. She’d make a point of it. But she’d never be Katherine. And what about Katherine in Bermuda? Why had Max failed to mention the whole interaction? If there was nothing to hide, why was he hiding it? Regardless of what had unfolded, she needed an explanation.

      ‘Which reminds me – did I ever tell you about my bride who was marrying the Qatari oil czar? Real feisty girl with a quick mouth on her? They had just under a thousand people, rented out Necker Island in the British Virgin Islands and flew in all their guests. Anyway, they’d been fighting all week, arguing about everything from the seating assignments to which of their mothers would get the first dance. Normal stuff. But then on the morning of the wedding, the bride makes a comment to her cousin about her career as a television anchor, something like ‘‘So and so said he thinks I only have another six months, maybe a year doing local before I get an offer from one of the networks,” and the Qatari just flipped. Asked her in this real low, angry voice what she was talking about – hadn’t they agreed she would no longer work after the wedding? And I’m like, whoa! This is a pretty big issue to have not worked out beforehand.’

      Andy couldn’t focus on anything but the knot of tension in her forehead. A dull ache. She desperately wanted Nina to stop talking.

      ‘Nina, I really—’

      ‘Wait, this is the best part. So, I leave them alone to hash it out, and when I come back a half hour later, they seem okay. Problem solved, right? So boom, boom, boom, the groom walks, the bridesmaids walk, the cute little flower girls walk, and then it’s just the bride, her father, and myself. Everything is going according to schedule. Her song begins, the entire ballroom turns to look at her, and with this huge beautiful smile on her face, she leans in close to whisper in my ear. You know what she says?’

      Andy shook her head.

      ‘She says, “Thank you for making everything so perfect, Nina. This is exactly what I wanted, and I’m definitely going to use you for my next wedding.” And then she took her father’s arm, held her head high, and walked! Do you believe it? She walked!’

      Despite feeling uncomfortably warm, almost feverish, Andy got goose bumps. ‘Did you ever hear from her again?’ she asked.

      ‘Sure did. She divorced him two months later, and she was engaged again a year after that. Second wedding was a little smaller but just as pretty. I get it, though. It’s one thing to call off an engagement or even a wedding once the invitations are out – it’s hard, but it happens. But on the actual day? You’re walking, sister. Get yourself down that aisle and do whatever you have to do afterward, you know?’ Nina laughed and took a swill from her own water bottle. Her ponytail bobbed cheerily.

      Andy nodded meekly. She and Emily talked about that all the time. In the almost three years since they’d launched The Plunge, they’d seen a handful of weddings called off in the final weeks before the big day. But on the actual day itself? Not one.

      ‘Come, let’s get you in the chair with the cape on so you’ll be ready for Lydia. She knows to tone down the makeup once they’re finished shooting the portraits. Oh, I’m just so excited to see this on the page! It’s going to sell a trillion copies.’

      Nina was tactful enough not to say what they were both thinking: this wedding would sell a trillion copies not because Andy was a cofounder of the magazine she would be appearing in, or because Monique Lhuillier had personally designed Andy’s one-of-a-kind wedding gown, or because Barbara Harrison had expertly sourced the finest wedding planner, florists, and caterers money could buy, but because Max was the third-generation president and CEO of one of the most successful media companies in America. No matter that the economic downturn combined with some poor investment decisions meant Max had to sell off the family’s real estate piece by piece. That Max worried constantly about the financial viability of the company mattered very little to the general public: the Harrison family name, combined with good looks, impeccable manners, and impressive educations, helped maintain the illusion that Max, his sister, and his mother were worth far more than they were in reality. It had been years since they’d been named to Forbes’s richest-Americans list, but the perception remained.

      ‘It sure is,’ she heard a voice behind her sing. ‘This wedding is going to sell us right off the newsstands,’ Emily said with a twirl and a curtsy. ‘Do you realize this may be the first nonhideous bridesmaid dress in the history of wedding attendants? If you insist on bridesmaids – which I personally think are tacky to begin with – then at least these dresses aren’t terrible.’

      Andy swiveled in her chair for a better look. With her hair swept up and her long, graceful neck on display, Emily looked like a gorgeous, delicate china doll. The plummy shade of the silk brought out the rosiness in her cheeks and accentuated her blue eyes; the fabric draped languidly across her chest and hips and flowed down to her ankles. Leave it to Emily to show her up on her own wedding day, and in a bridesmaid dress no less.

      ‘You look great, Em. I’m so glad you like the dress,’ Andy said, relieved for the momentary distraction.

      ‘Let’s not get carried away. “Like” is a little strong, but I don’t despise it. Wait, turn around, let me get a look at you … wow!’ She leaned in so close that Andy could catch a whiff of cigarettes layered with breath mints. Another wave of nausea instantly followed but it passed quickly. ‘You look fucking gorgeous. How on earth did you get your boobs to look like that? Did you get implants and not tell me? Are you kidding me, withholding information like that?’

      ‘It’s amazing what a good seamstress can do with a pair of chicken cutlets,’ Andy said.

      Nina was shouting, ‘Don’t touch her!’ from across the room, but Emily was too fast. ‘Mmm, very nice. I especially like this fullness right here,’ she said, pressing Andy’s décolletage. ‘And this ridiculous rock you’re wearing against those killer boobs? Yummy. Max will like.’

      ‘Where’s the bride?’ Andy heard her mother call out from the suite’s living room. ‘Andy? Sweetheart? Jill and I are here with Grams and we all want to see you!’

      Nina ushered in her mother, sister, and grandmother and administered various admonitions for everyone to give Andy enough space, saying that she was feeling a bit light-headed and please only stay for a moment, before she finally left to oversee some other last-minute detail.

      ‘What does she think this is, hospital visiting hours?’ Andy’s grandmother said. ‘What is it, dear, are you feeling a little nervous for your wedding night? That’s only natural. Remember, no one says you have to like it, but you do have to—’

      ‘Mom, can you stop her?’ Andy muttered, fingers to temples.

      Mrs Sachs turned to her own mother. ‘Mother, please.’

      ‘What? All the kids think they’re experts today because they jump into the sack with anyone who glances in their direction?’

      Emily СКАЧАТЬ