From the ‘Seduction of Dylan Acosta’ . . .

Dylan promo1FROM ‘The Seduction of Dylan Acosta’:
The weatherman promised sunny and seventy-four degrees for their wedding day, but when Dylan awoke in the condo that morning it was raining. Ava was next to her on the bed, and sleeping in the other room were Chelsea and Karen, two of her college girlfriends who had flown in to be bridesmaids. She was surprisingly calm, even when she saw the rain. She didn’t think about how her “big day” might be ruined or any of those clichés, she instead watched the raindrops hit the glass and smiled, because by nightfall, she would be Mark’s wife.

The entire morning, as she was primped and polished by her friends, Dylan was in a happy haze, drinking the mimosas Karen kept making and staring out the window at the rain. By three o’clock, the rain had let up and by four, she and her girls were in the car heading uptown. At five, she was walking toward Mark in the perfect white dress that Mrs. Acosta and Miri had chosen for her, looking into Mark’s eyes and feeling more sure of him and of them than she had ever been of anything in her life. And by five-twenty, she was Mrs. Mark Acosta.

Instead of the stuffy speeches at weddings Dylan had been to in the past, the mike was open for anyone who wanted to, to give their best wishes to the bride and groom. Mark’s brothers each gave boozy speeches about how much they loved their brother but how grateful they were that Dylan had taken him off their hands. 
Various childhood friends followed, speaking almost entirely in Spanish, finally prompting Mark to take the mike himself and tell the guests “my wife does not speak Spanish yet, so please speak English so she can understand you.” It was the first time Dylan heard him say the words “my wife.” It had slipped off his tongue so naturally, it made her blush with pleasure.

When all the speeches seemed to be done and the evening wore on, their guests became preoccupied with their dinner and the music so Mark pulled Dylan away and into the coat room where they made out like teenagers, secreting themselves among the crowd of damp coats.

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Woman-Centered Fiction Writer, commenting on books, culture and the human condition.

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