LAST WEDDING - DIANNA DIVERNOE

-Wendy-he waved again, and she looked at him, but couldn’t remember who he is. He approached her and sat at their table. He noticed that Marci is looking at him in a threatening manner, but didn’t gave much notice at that.
-Do you remember me? I am Arnaud Batri, son of Jean-Paul Batri from whom you buy your wedding dresses- he said it as if it was a lingerie shop where Wendy buys her panties every other day.
-Wedding dresses? – she started to remember.
-Yes, if I am not mistaken you bought a wedding dress miss Keli and then Miss Naomi. Do you remember? Boutique Sharis?
She remembered and smiled with an adorable smile. Yes this man on one occasion gave her boutique’s business card in Paris, and told her to call him as soon as she comes to Paris. But where did she put that card?
-Lovely, Wendy-he took her arms happy that she remembered him.-How are you? What brings you to Paris?
-I live here-she slowly said, wondering is that the truth. She had been here for four and a half months. Yes of course-that is already a greatly encapsulated, Parisian life.
-Lovely. I didn’t know that your husband is French?-he blinked. Did he miss another wedding?
-No, iMy husband died in a car accident. It was an accident and i…
-I didn’t know that.
-Almost two years ago-she said it slowly, she wanted to forget it.
-I am sorry, I didn’t introduce myself-he extended his arm to Marci who barely said hi, as if he was touching someone with skin disease.-My name is Arnaud Batri and am Wendy’s old friend.
Wendy looked at him questioningly. She saw him in that boutique when she tried on her wedding dress that didn’t suit her, which he created. Now she had an opportunity to better look at him. He looked better than Marci, he took better care of himself, three or four years younger and had that obnoxious lawyer attitude in him and she was sure he never talked about cats mating in February or mists in November. No, he would talk about Miss Mici and Miss Cici wedding dresses and everything would be in a cloud of Sharis boutique and hats and gloves, until she would start to scream from hat of madam de Shtuci or shoes of senorita Buci. The same thing in another packaging!
She smiled as if she was thinking about something lovely and wonderful.
-You are here with your friends?-she asked and looked toward his table. Eight guys sat there and drank their drinks, they looked at her shortly, and then continued their conversation.
-Yes, Mark is having a bachelor evening… He is getting married soon-he proudly said it, as if he was going to be a godfather at the wedding.
Wendy did not ask further questions. Suddenly she didn’t want to talk about the wedding and fuss that always follows such events.
-And your girlfriend?
-Tiffani?- he said her name and got serious for a moment. You could see that he is thinking about it, and his forehead wrinkled.-We broke up some time ago. –He smiled and took out a business card of a boutique which he owned in Paris, which was a branch of a boutique run by his father.- Call me if you need one again… Hum, you know, a wedding dress.