Nothing New for Sophie Drew: a heart-warming romantic comedy by Katey Lovell (best autobiographies to read .txt) 📕

she’d ordered her wedding dress from first, but they didn’t stock the design we’d all admired. Another two bridal stores had said the same. That’s how we’d ended up in Sunderland, in a tiny shop as white as Tawna’s kitchen but for one rainbow-coloured rack of bridesmaids dresses. The glare of the lights reflecting off the shimmering fabric of hundreds of bridal gowns caused me to squint. It was like stepping into a scene in a film where a dying person gravitates towards a bright light. Death by wedding dresses.

“Hello,” said a glamorous yet hard-faced brunette, rearranging a display of glistening tiaras. The gems that adorned the headwear had more sparkle than either her eyes or her voice. “How can I help?”

“I’m Tawna, I phoned earlier about the mauve bridesmaids dresses?” Tawna presented the piece of paper, on which she’d written down the details, to the assistant.

“Ah, yes. We have it in stock, if you’re sure that’s what you want.” Her lips twitched first to the left and then to the right as she looked me and Eve up and down disparagingly, before saying, “Some people find detail on the bust draws attention to the chest area. Of course, if that doesn’t bother you then it’s not a problem.” I couldn’t tell who she was directing that comment towards – me with my ample bosom, or Eve with her bee-stings. It was hardly complimentary, however you looked at it. “Feel free to browse the stock, see if there’s anything more… suitable.”

That was all the encouragement Tawna needed to start pulling at the dresses on the racks, immediately dismissing anything too garish.

“I like this,” she said, pulling out a silky floor-length sheath in a pale pink shade.

“That’s gorgeous.” I stroked the delicate fabric with the tips of my fingers. “So elegant. And it’s pink, my favourite.”

“And look at the tie around the waist.” Eve pointed to the sage green ribbon, tied into a feature bow to one side of the dress. “It’s the same colour as that other dress you liked, Tawna.”

“We don’t have every size in that style available at the moment,” the assistant said through pinched lips, “although you’re welcome to try on as many dresses as you like.”

Soon we were posing in all styles. The one we’d originally come to look at was gorgeous, but I had to begrudgingly admit that the assistant knew her stuff – I’d looked like a pair of tits on legs. A silver shift dress looked stunning on Eve with her Twiggy-like figure but left me looking like a chicken drumstick wrapped in tin foil. A classy sky-blue dress was flattering for us both, but Tawna’s mutterings about halter-necks not complimenting her own dress had vetoed it.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to try the yellow?” Tawna cajoled, to resounding “no”s from me and Eve.

“We all know the pink one’s the winner,” Eve said, looking back towards the dress that had caught Tawna’s eye on the rail. “It’s grown up, simple, flattering, and won’t date in the photographs. It’s a timeless classic.”

When Eve had tried the smaller of the shop samples earlier, Tawna and I had gasped at the vision of Eve, whose dark hair contrasted with the subtle tones of the dress. She really had looked breathtaking.

Despite my best efforts I’d not been able to fit into the largest dress they had in stock. The zip went so far and then refused to budge no matter how hard I’d tried to make my frame smaller. My chest was the problem, being two sizes bigger than my waist. In the end I’d resorted to putting the dress back on the hanger and looping it over my head, to at least see if the colour suited my skin tone (which was paler than ever, since stopping using even the cheap fake tan).

“You’re going to look amazing in that,” Tawna confirmed. “You’ll need a good bra though, Miss Boobalicious.”

“Maybe I’ll make a move on the best man,” I joked, reaching out to touch the smooth cool material of the dress. It slid through my fingers, fluid. “Isn’t that the tradition? The bridesmaid and the best man get it on?”

Eve laughed. “Why do you get first dibs? It might be someone I take a shine to.”

“Ah.” Tawna’s lips formed a pained smile, her eyes flitting nervously between the two of us. She clucked her tongue, then inhaled her breath sharply through her teeth. “I wanted to talk to you about that. Johnny’s asked Darius to be his best man.”

Eve’s eyes widened at the revelation and I struggled to find the right words, making sounds that could pass for gibberish, before finally managing, “I thought Johnny was going to ask Paul.” Paul was Johnny’s brother, near identical to him in looks, but not in business nous or work ethic, which was why Paul’s barber’s shop was struggling to survive (which is what happens when you turn up three hours later than the advertised opening hours, because you were out on the lash the night before), whereas Johnny’s company was expanding every year.

“He did, but Paul turned him down. He doesn’t think he’s reliable enough to handle all that responsibility, and you’ve got to agree he’s right. Can you imagine trusting him with the rings?” She laughed as though it was ridiculous. “That’s why Darius is stepping up to the role. It’s not exactly out of the blue, he is Johnny’s best friend. He’s still been asking after you, Sophie, and I don’t want the two of you at loggerheads on my wedding day. Why don’t you meet up with him? Talk things through and clear the air?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eve interjected, rearing like a startled horse. “Don’t push Sophie into spending time with that jerk.”

Tawna frowned, her usually beautiful face hard. “I don’t believe she’s over him and I don’t want her to have any regrets. And from the things he’s been saying to Johnny, Darius is still in love with her.”

Why was it that every time