Forget Me Not by Julie Soto EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Julie Soto
- Language: English
- Genre: Women’s Friendship Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
MARCH
I have e five rules for planning a successful wedding.
(Lies. I’m sure there are more, but if I said, “I have seventy-six rules—sit
back,” I think I would have lost you.)
Rule #1—No live animals. They eat rings, bite flower girls, and poo
everywhere.
Rule #2—DIY doesn’t mean the wedding party will Do It Themselves. It
means the couple went on Pinterest and now it’s the wedding planner’s
problem.
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Rule #3—A nightclub DJ and a wedding DJ are not interchangeable.
Rule #4—Don’t ever find yourself alone with a groomsman.
And finally, Rule #5—Always talk them out of the gazebo. Always.
I march down the aisle, thighs burning to keep my heels from sinking
into the grass. The carpet arrives in twenty, and I’m glad I insisted on it,
because the bride would have been tugging her legs out of this like a marsh.
My photographer and favorite ex-stepsibling—a tall Indian woman who
gets mistaken for Priyanka Chopra at least twice a day—is lying on her
stomach in the middle of the park, camera pointed upward at the gazebo,
where my assistants have been kidnapped to stand in for the bride and
groom.
“Mar, dear,” I say through a fake smile. “Jake already has a job.” With a
snap of my fingers, Jake—another stepsibling—bolts down the gazebo
steps and back to the loading zone, where he’s supposed to be directing the
vendors. “And I gave you Sarah for ten minutes.”
As her long limbs bring herself to standing, Mar’s beautiful face scowls
down at me from six inches above my head. “Gazebos, Ama?”
“The couple insisted. I know you hate it—”
Grabbing my arm, she jerks me to her side and turns the camera preview
window toward me. “Latticework. Latticework.”
I look at the frames as she clicks through them. The ceiling of the gazebo
is crisscrossed, and as luck would have it, today is a radiantly sunny day.
There are shadows on Jake and Sarah’s faces.
Mar leans down to me. “They look like—”
“Apple pies. They look like apple pies.” I huff, glaring up at the sun.
There are clouds in the west, but will they be here on time? “What do you
have in your car?”
“A bunch of stuff that would look terrible during the actual ceremony.”
I nod my head, staring at the gazebo. Mar knows to let me think. I shove
a hand through my dark hair, still getting used to the shorter length even
though it’s been maybe two years since it ran down between my shoulder
blades. (In fact, I know exactly how long it’s been since I crawled into the
salon and begged my hair gal to make me “different.”)
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