The groom is arriving.

"Aw, don't tell me we don't get to play any... games with the bride to be?" says Margaret. "I have such fun things in mind."

"Unfortunately not," says Petra. "Because the groom is about to arrive."

"Bastian?" John whispers in dread, her hated enemy's name catching in her throat. "Bastian's coming?"

With that explanation, her ex-girlfriends make a quick retreat, but John barely notices. Her chest feels tight, her throat dry. Quick, shallow breaths make her new bossom bounce heavily up and down.

Bastian's coming.

John felt the shame and the fear surge within her, and felt her knees almost buckle.

She can't let Bastian see her like this.

If he does...

She swallows hard and turns to Petra.

"Please," she whispers. "Please, I - I can't... you can't let him..."

Petra gives John a sympathetic look but shakes her head. "He's our client, sweetie. And your husband-to-be."

"I..." John says, ****. "I've been a good girl!"

Petra taps her jaw with a finger. "Well... if maybe if you were in your wedding gown..."

John balks at that. "What? Why would I...?"

"It's bad luck for a groom to see a bride in her gown before the wedding," Petra reminds her. "Trying on the dress might buy you some time."

John does need time. All the time in the world.