The Bastard Takes a Wife by Lindy Dale

cutlery.
    “Hey,” I slung my shoulder bag down onto the
counter.
    “D’you mind? I’ve just wiped that.”
    “Sorry.” I picked up my bag and put it on the
carpet at my feet. Clearly, she was still miffed. “We picked the
invitations. You should have seen the things they wanted us to
have. Oh. My. God. Insane. There was this one box thing….”
    Alex gathered a load of dry forks and turned
away from me. “Look, I’m super busy. Can we talk about this
later?”
    “Um, sure. I guess. I just thought….”
    “Sam’s out in the bar, why don’t you go and
tell him?”
    I have to admit I was a trifle hurt at the
brush off. “Because we had lunch together two hours ago and I can’t
talk weddings with him. He’s not interested in invitations.”
    Alex swung back. “And you think I am?”
    I walked around into the servery. I knew Alex
was upset but this was over the top even for her. She was never the
upset type. Wrapping my arms around her, I gave her my best
hug.
    “You’re crushing the prongs of the forks into
my boob.” A small grin tilted the corner of her mouth.
    “Sorry,” I repeated, pulling away. “So,
what’s wrong? Is it the invitations? ‘Cause you know I would have
asked you if you weren’t working. You are the Maid of Honour.”
    “Yeah. I know. I’m just… well, I got this
email from Angus. She reached under the counter and rifled around
in her bag, retrieving her iPhone. She opened her mail box and
handed the phone to me. At the top of the inbox was a message
titled ‘training sessions.’
    “I mean, don’t you think this is taking the
whole thing a bit far?” she asked. “I know I’m a bit overweight but
I’ve lost five kilos since you asked me to be your bridesmaid. Now
you want me to go to Personal Training? If this is what I have to
do to be your friend, I’m not sure I want to be in the wedding any
more.”
    My eyes scanned the message. “Look, I didn’t
know anything about this. God, I’m so sorry. I already told Angus
that he wasn’t to mention anything to you about weight.”
    “So you think I’m fat, too?”
    “No. God, no. I was defending you against
them. I would never demand you to get skinny for my wedding. I like
you how you are and I told him that. If I was that shallow I’d
never have asked you in the first place, would I?”
    “I guess not.”
    I handed the phone back to her. “I’ll call
Angus right now and tell him to get off your back.”
    “Don’t do that.”
    “But I thought….”
    “Yeah. So did I but when I read the rest of
the letter, I realised the training thing’s free. I could never
afford a personal trainer under normal circumstances but seeing as
Sam’s mother’s paying, why not? And I do want to look nice in the
photos, especially if I have to stand next to the Glam
Brigade.”
    I giggled and gave her a hug. That was my
Alex. “Hey, do you want me to come with you? I wouldn’t mind toning
up a bit and we could motivate each other. I’m such a sloth about
exercise. And now I don’t work here anymore I have way too much
time on my hands. The gym could be my new hiding place.”
    “Mrs. Brockton that bad?”
    “Amanda’s worse.”
    I pulled my phone out of the pocket of my
shorts and speed-dialled Angus to set it up. I could hear his cries
of rejoice already. All I needed now was the stylist.
     
     
     
     

Chapter 7
     
    Next Generation Health and Fitness at King’s
Park was possibly the most intimidating place I’d ever been. It was
where the beautiful ~ and loaded ~ people hung out. Bikes and
treadmills lined the windowed walls. Tall girls who looked liked
they’d just finished shooting for Marie Claire or Vogue or
something stood on them and around them wearing teeny climate
control singlet tops and short shorts that looked more like my
undies than something you’d exercise in. Their breasts were so
perky they didn’t need sports bras. Their bums were so toned I bet
they’d never seen a pair of Spanx. This was