Read Online When Girlfriends Chase Dreams by Savannah Page - Free Book Online Page B

God knows I need the extra time. Conner and I have a new set of problems with his parents not wanting a church wedding. Of course, while I was able to glean hope from that disaster—the hope of actually being able to have my manor wedding ceremony—it didn’t take long for me to be brought back down to earth after a call to my dad.
    “Claire!” he’d said. “It’s a Lutheran church or nothing. I don’t care what his parents think. Do I have to draw you a picture?” Then he gave a grating chortle, and I swore I could hear his little twit of a girlfriend in the background snickering about something.
    “Fine, dad,” I’d told him. “Apparently there’s no convincing you. I wish we could work something out to meet halfway for Conner’s parents, though. You know, he’s getting married, too. He’s just as much a part of this wedding as I am.” So he may not be playing as integral a role in planning it, as I, but I suppose I have to pick my battles.
    “I don’t care!” Dad had said in a strict tone. “I’m paying the bills. This is my daughter’s wedding. It’s a church wedding or nothing.”
    I wasn’t in the mood to argue over something that seemed to be a moot point. There clearly wasn’t going to be any convincing my dad, so Conner would have to work on his parents.
    I pull into the parking lot of the same Starbucks where Melissa and I first met. Before I attempt to open my car door, I cross my fingers and whisper, “Please work. Please work.”
    It isn’t as cold a day today, and almost all of January’s snow is melted away into slush and inconveniently placed puddles. Maybe there’s hope for my car door yet. I give the handle a gentle pull, then put some effort behind it and give the door a rough shove. It opens! I’m relieved. Now I hope it stays that way. I’ve been a little on edge lately, particularly with Conner. It’s this whole church business, that’s all. Once that’s settled, things will be back to happy planning.
    To my surprise, Melissa beat me here, and she’s already seated at the same small table in the corner.
    “What can I get for you this morning?” the chipper barista asks me.
    I think Sophie and I had a little too much wine last night when she came over to help me with some more bird cutouts. I have a headache that seems to be getting worse by the minute. I know I need more water, but when at Starbucks you can’t just walk in, order a water, and call it a day. So I pick up a bottle of water, hand it to the teenager behind the counter, and say, “This and a tall coffee, please. House blend’s fine.”
    “Room?” He withdraws a Sharpie from his green apron and is already scribbling about.
    “No.”
    It’s a straight-up black coffee kind of day today, and I really need to keep an eye on the extra sugar I’ve been consuming. That dream dress is going to show up and I’m not going to be able to squeeze into it, even if I cut off my left leg! There was this new margarita cupcake recipe Sophie brought over last night. Killer. Amazing. Now I need to not pass on taking Schnicker for a walk tonight.
    “Hi there,” I say to Melissa, approaching her.
    She’s typing on her iPhone, her lips pursed together in contemplative thought.
    I awkwardly stand by in silence for a while, then I settle into my seat, wondering how long it will take for her to realize that I’m here.
    “So,” Melissa says gaily, her eyes still locked on her screen, her fingers rapidly tapping away.
    “So.” I awkwardly take a sip of my water.
    “So!” She moves her head in a way that reminds me of a bobble head toy, then slips her cell phone back into her bag and breaks out her familiar pink pad of paper. “Sorry about that. Had to tweet that I’m meeting with a client.”
    “Aww.” I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. Twitter—I’ve never understood it.
    “You know, the wedding industry is huge on social media. I mean, we’re like social media whores.” She laughs to herself. I again