Vieve & Charlie.
Dress shopping with Bonnie had resulted in one simple question: reserved and appropriate for a societal function, or plunging neck lines and inescapably sexy?
It was a question that really answered itself, especially with Bonnie there. Her hair was charmed up in a "stylishly" messy sort of twist - the obvious result of someone who regularly only pulled it back in a ponytail. It was something that wouldn't at all be noticed once she put on her dress.
Was this a date? Or just helping each other out? Somewhere in the midst of a ceremony as awkward as it was boring, and after the fourth time they had been given a look for giggling too loudly at Vieve's running commentary of the couple who obviously didn't want to be married, Vieve had ceased to care which it really was.
The reception? Now that was what she was [not so] secretly waiting for. It took Vieve all of a handful of moments at most before their was a drink in both of their hands. She had every intent of finding out exactly how many drinks she could give him before he was drunk. Or at least handsy. After all, how else did people survive such high-class social functions?
... Aside from telling a too-nosy old woman who was clearly thought Charlie could do better than such a brash woman that she was already pregnant with his twins, that is.