Ellie clapped her hands over her mouth as the bridal salon owner tightened a tape measure around her hips and rattled off numbers to the assistant holding a clipboard. “Are you kidding me? How could I have gone up two whole dress sizes in under a week? I mean, I grant you I’ve been a little depressed and the gym has slipped down on my priority list and I may have had a few late-night indiscretions with both Ben and Jerry, but two sizes in a week?” “Chill.” Mara glanced up from the legal documents she was perusing in the overstuffed pink chair outside the dressing rooms. “It’s couture sizing. Totally different from street clothes.” “She’s right.” Jen’s voice drifted over the flimsy white partition separating the two dressing rooms. “So I haven’t gained twenty pounds since Saturday?” Ellie breathed a sigh of relief. “Nope,” Jen said. “But you really shouldn’t be gorging on ice cream—it’s nothing but empty calories and processed sugars. You need to keep up your strength and endurance right now.
