Chapter 1231 The Feeling of Heartbeat
Since Alan had arranged everything in advance, the boutique was exclusively theirs for the afternoon—just the four of them with the manager's personal attention.
The manager led them through the elegant showroom to the formal wear section, where bridesmaid and groomsmen attire occupied separate areas. Stella looped her arms through Hannah's and Randy's, steering them toward the bridesmaid collection with characteristic determination. "You two are choosing for me," she declared.
Hannah approached the task with methodical precision, examining every gown in the extensive collection before selecting three standouts: a blush pink V-neck that hugged every curve, a powder blue off-shoulder design that spoke of understated elegance, and a lavender strapless number that promised to showcase Stella's enviable silhouette.
"Try all three," Hannah insisted, presenting her selections with the confidence of someone who understood fashion. "I think each one captures something different about you."
Stella trusted Hannah's eye implicitly and disappeared into the fitting room without protest. When she emerged in each gown, the results exceeded expectations. Her statuesque frame and natural grace transformed each dress into something that belonged on a red carpet rather than at a wedding party. The way the fabric caught the light seemed to illuminate her porcelain skin, making her appear almost ethereal.
After modeling each option with a graceful turn before the full-length mirror, Stella found herself genuinely torn. "They're all stunning, but which one speaks to you?"
Hannah pressed her finger thoughtfully to her lips, studying Stella with the intensity of an art critic. "The lavender," she finally pronounced. "It's such a demanding color—not everyone can carry it off, but on you, it's absolutely divine."
Charles, lounging comfortably in a nearby chair, offered his diplomatic support. "My wife has impeccable taste. I'd trust her judgment completely."
With two votes for lavender, Stella felt herself leaning toward the choice, but she turned to Randy with genuine curiosity. "What's your verdict? If you approve, I think we have our winner."
Randy barely glanced up from his own browsing, his response cutting through the enthusiasm like a blade. "Too predictable."
Stella's laughter bubbled up despite herself. "Randy, Hannah's the star of this show, not me. I'm supposed to complement, not compete."
Instead of responding, Randy moved through the collection with the focused intensity of someone on a mission. From the far corner, almost hidden among less popular choices, he extracted a crimson silk slip dress with delicate spaghetti straps. The simplicity was striking—no embellishments, no unnecessary details, just pure, elegant lines.
"This one," he said, extending the garment toward Stella with quiet certainty.
Stella accepted the dress, her brow furrowing as she examined the deceptively simple design. "Are you serious? It's so... red. Won't I upstage Hannah completely? She'll be in white, and I'll be in this?"
Randy remained unmoved by her concerns. "The color may be bold, but the cut is understated. It won't steal focus—it'll enhance what's already there without screaming for attention."
Hannah wrinkled her nose in disapproval. "I don't mind the red, but honestly, Randy, it looks almost... basic? And look where it was hiding—clearly nobody else has been impressed enough to choose it."
The manager nodded eagerly, sensing an opportunity to redirect toward higher-priced options. "Exactly right, Ms. Moore. That particular piece has been overlooked by every bride who's come through here. Your original three selections are our most popular choices—proven winners that photograph beautifully."
Something in the manager's sales pitch seemed to crystallize Stella's decision in an unexpected direction. Her expression shifted from uncertainty to mild horror. "Most popular? You mean half the weddings in the city feature bridesmaids in these exact dresses?"
"Well, yes," the manager confirmed with obvious pride. "That's precisely why Ms. Moore's eye is so remarkable—she instinctively selected our bestsellers."
The thought of appearing in yet another cookie-cutter bridesmaid ensemble suddenly made the overlooked red dress infinitely more appealing. "Actually, let me try Randy's choice," Stella decided, already heading back toward the fitting room. "I'd rather be unique than predictable."
Hannah looked genuinely apologetic. "I should have arranged for a custom design for you too. I wasn't thinking clearly about the details."
"Don't be ridiculous," Stella called over her shoulder. "I'm not the bride here. Save the custom work for my own wedding someday."
While Stella changed, Randy and Charles turned their attention to groomsmen attire, their conversation a low murmur against the boutique's refined atmosphere. When the fitting room door opened again, the soft sound might as well have been a thunderclap for the way it commanded attention.
Every conversation stopped. Every eye turned toward Stella as she emerged in the crimson silk, and the collective intake of breath was audible.
The dress transformed her completely. What had appeared simple on the hanger became something altogether more sophisticated on her frame. The silk clung to her curves like liquid fire, the high slit revealing glimpses of her legs with each step, while the minimalist design somehow managed to convey luxury that rivaled any haute couture creation. Her natural elegance elevated the understated garment into something that belonged in a fashion magazine.
Randy felt his breath catch in his throat, his pulse quickening in a way that had nothing to do with the boutique's warm lighting. The sight of her rendered him momentarily speechless, every carefully maintained boundary suddenly feeling fragile.
"Absolutely breathtaking," Hannah breathed, her earlier reservations evaporating entirely. "You look like you stepped off a runway. Randy, your instincts were perfect—you know exactly what brings out her best features while keeping her elegantly understated."
Stella studied her reflection with growing concern rather than pleasure. "It's beautiful, but I look too... noticeable. This is your moment, Hannah, your once-in-a-lifetime day. I can't have guests focusing on anyone but you."
Hannah waved away the concern with characteristic generosity. "Trust me, even looking like that, you couldn't steal my thunder if you tried. Besides, if anyone's going to complement my big day perfectly, it's you. This dress is absolutely perfect."
But Stella remained firm in her hesitation. "No, I can't. Let me go back to the lavender—it's safer."
Without a word, Randy moved to a nearby rack and selected a delicate white silk blazer, approaching Stella with quiet purpose. As he helped her slip it over the dress, the transformation was immediate and perfect. The blazer tempered the dress's boldness while maintaining its sophistication, creating an ensemble that was striking without being overwhelming.
Hannah stared in admiration, then turned to Randy with newfound respect. "You have an incredible eye for her style. You understand how to showcase her beauty while keeping her refined and appropriate. It's like you can see exactly what she needs before she knows it herself."
The observation hung in the air with unexpected weight. Hannah's innocent comment touched on something that felt far more significant than fashion sense—an intimacy of understanding that seemed to transcend their familial relationship.
But such thoughts were dangerous territory. They were cousins, bound by blood and social expectations that made any deeper connection not just inappropriate, but impossible. Even if every heart in the room might approve, the world beyond these walls never would.
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