Always the Designer, Never the Bride (3 page)

BOOK: Always the Designer, Never the Bride
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Audrey felt a surge of blessed reprieve as she, Carly, and Sherilyn left the restaurant. Devon's brother made her uncomfortable the way he kept gawking at her. Did he think she hadn't noticed? While everyone else focused on the conversation and the marvelous food, J. R. Hunt had fixated unapologetically on every move Audrey made. At one point, she'd dabbed the corner of her mouth with the linen napkin, thinking perhaps a forkful of spinach salad had missed its mark. When he wasn't deterred, she compulsively ran her tongue over her front teeth in hopes of dislodging some stray piece of food that might have held the guy's attention in a vice grip.

"I think J. R. was quite taken with you," Carly said as they rode the glass-enclosed elevator up to the second floor.

"I noticed that too," Sherilyn added.

"Please."

"Aud, J. R. is a catch!"

She groaned. "Please!"

"No, she's right," Sherilyn told her. "He's a wonderful guy."

"Did you put her up to this?" Audrey asked Carly. "Because this is not what I'm here for."

Carly sighed, exchanging a look with Sherilyn that irritated Audrey to no end. She was always doing that. Since the time they were in the first grade together, Caroline Madison could push Audrey's buttons like no one else. And yet somehow they'd managed to remain best friends from then to now. Over the years, she'd come to equate it with sibling rivalry.

The bridal suite at The Tanglewood Inn, tucked behind double oak doors with large brass handles, smelled sweetly inviting. Fragrant bouquets of roses and hydrangea in low crystal vases graced the round claw-footed dining table as well as the oval coffee table in front of the green chenille sofa. A large arch with a sliding door of etched glass ushered the way into the adjacent room. A breathtaking king bed draped with a sheer violet canopy hugged the corner of the room at an angle, set against muted moss-green walls and flanked by antique nightstands with crystal knobs. The bellman had left Audrey's luggage against the foot of the bed in a neat little line.

"Good grief," Audrey said with a sigh. "This is lovely."

"Isn't it?" Carly cried. "I know we're already technically married—and don't tell Devon this—but this room is why I convinced him that we should live apart again for three days before the wedding. Isn't it exquisite? And we're going to have so much fun here until then. It'll be like living in Barbie's Dream House for two days!"

Audrey chuckled; such a
Carly
thing to say.

"You sit down out here," she told Audrey, her finger wiggling toward the sofa. "Sherilyn will help me get into the dress, and I'll make an entrance."

"Shouldn't Sherilyn sit out here?" Audrey asked with a grin. "I mean, I've seen the dress."

"Oh, so has Sherilyn!"

Sherilyn nodded, one side of her mouth turning upward in a lopsided grin. "Three times already."

"Besides, I made some additions. I want to spring it on you!"

"Additions?"

"So just sit down—"

"You changed the dress?"

"—and I'll go put it on for you and—"

"Caroline! You changed the dress?"

"Not really changed it. Just . . .
enhanced
it."

The horror rose slowly, like a pot coming to a boil on the stove. Leave it to Carly to have the audacity to revamp the wedding dress Audrey had designed! Her eyes darted to Sherilyn, and the pretty redhead shook her head reassuringly.

"It's okay," she mouthed. "Really. It's okay."

"Just sit down and make yourself comfortable," Carly told her. "There are drinks in the mini-fridge. And I'll be out in two shakes."

Resisting the urge to press her nose against the glass door standing between them, Audrey stalked to the window and looked out over a stunning brick courtyard.

Enhanced it. She enhanced it.

Audrey slowly paced back and forth along the length of the large window, breathing deeply and exhaling in controlled little bursts as she recounted myriad
enhancements
Carly had made to Barbie doll gowns and one-of-a-kind prom dresses over the years.

"Please, oh please," Carly had begged the night she called to tell Audrey that she and Devon were getting married again. "We were so rushed the first time around, but we really want to have the big formal wedding, so we're going to start planning it now. You just have to design my wedding dress, Aud. You have to! We're more like sisters than best friends, aren't we? How could I walk into a bridal shop and buy someone else's design to wear on the most important day of my life? Will you do it? Please?"

All of Audrey's alarm bells had sounded in those seconds between the request and her reply, but she'd ignored them.

"Of course I will."

It's my own fault, after all, isn't it? She's probably cut off the sleeves and used the fabric to make a longer train, just like she did to Barbie's gown when she married Ken on Granny's sun porch when we were kids!

"Are you ready?" Carly called out from the bedroom.

"Not at all," Audrey replied dryly. "But come on out. Let me have a look at what you've done."

Sherilyn slid open the glass door and emerged first, rushing tentatively to Audrey's side while Carly used both hands to beat out a drumroll against the wall.

"Ready?"

"Get out here!"

And then there she was, wide-eyed and hopeful, standing before Audrey.

"Well?"

Audrey blinked, and instinctively smacked her hand over her mouth with a gasp. "Caroline Madison!" she managed between her fingers.

Audrey needed to sit. Fortunately, Sherilyn pushed a chair underneath her before she went down.

"It's okay, isn't it, Aud? You don't mind?"

"Are you all right?" Sherilyn whispered. "Can I get you some water?"

"Audrey, say something."

Audrey leaned back against the chair, cocked her head, and pressed her lips together for a moment before bursting into tears.

"Audrey?" Carly exclaimed. "Is that a good cry, or a bad cry?"

Audrey pulled several tissues from the box that Sherilyn extended to her and dried her eyes with one of them. She hadn't even thought of the veils in years! But there stood Carly, in the bridal gown Audrey had made just for her, and the elbow-length wedding veil Granny had given Carly as a gift on their high school graduation.

"Aud?"

"Sorry. It's a good cry."

"Oh, thank God. I thought you were going to be upset with me for wearing your granny's lace."

"Upset?" she repeated, and she blew her nose. "I'm overcome."

"Audrey and I used to stage these elaborate weddings for our Barbies," Carly explained to Sherilyn. "I would style the ceremony with flowers and candles, and Audrey would make the wedding gowns."

"Of course," Sherilyn added with a grin.

"Of course," Carly repeated. "And her granny used this little . . . What was it, Aud?"

"Tatting tool."

"Right, a tatting tool to make these intricate, exquisite lace veils for our brides. We begged her to make life-sized ones for us to wear when we played dress-up, never realizing of course what it would take, or the level of skill and effort involved . . . But before she died, she presented both of us with these beautiful wedding veils." Carly took an edge of the veil carefully into her hand and showed it to Sherilyn. "She did her thing with tatting to create the designs for the edging, and she appliquéd it to the fabric. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Exquisite," Sherilyn replied as she examined it.

"Nottingham," Audrey sniffled.

"Sorry. What?"

"The fabric. It's Scottish Nottingham lace."

"Oh. Well, you should see Audrey's!" Carly cried. "She and her granny added crystals and beads to it, and it turned out so pretty. You looked like a queen in that veil. Do you still have it?"

"Of course," she answered with a smile. "I haven't thought of it in years. I'd almost forgotten about it until—" Her voice trailed off to silence, and Audrey sighed.

Carly had attached the veil to a stunning rhinestone tiara. With her hair twisted upward and piled on the top of her head, she looked like a regal, all-American princess. Audrey thought it sort of remarkable that the veil seemed to match the dress perfectly, even though she hadn't thought of it when she sketched out the designs for Carly's empire-waist organza ball gown.

"Carly, you look exquisite," she told her friend, a mist of emotion clouding her thoughts. "The veil makes it perfect. You look just like the princess you always wanted to be when you got married."

"I thought it looked sublime with the dress, like it was just meant to be. And did you recognize my mom's pearls?" she asked, fingering the three-strand choker.

"Is that your mom's?" Audrey moved toward her for a closer look.

"Audrey and I used to play dress-up," Carly said.

"A lot," Audrey added. "Carly's mom is so glamorous, and she had all this amazing jewelry."

"Yeah, my mom does love her bling."

"You two remind me so much of Emma and me," Sherilyn told them. "We've been friends forever too."

"Emma works here," Carly chimed in. "She's making my wedding cake. You'll meet her tomorrow night at the Jack-and-Jill."

"At the what?"

"You tell her, Sherilyn. I'm going to get out of my dress before I cry all over it. It's bad luck for a bride to shed tears on her dress. Wait. Or is it good luck?"

"Do you need help?" Sherilyn asked her.

"Are you kidding? I'm becoming an expert at getting in and out of this thing. I've probably tried it on ten times since it arrived."

"Well, at least let me unclasp the buttons for you."

Once Carly stepped into the bedroom, Sherilyn and Audrey sat down at the round table with a couple of bottles of water.

"Carly said she didn't want the traditional bachelorette festivities, and Devon didn't want a bachelor party, so they decided to combine things," Sherilyn explained. "They've rented out a place called Happy Days over in Sandy Springs. It's a fifties diner with a bowling alley, a karaoke lounge, and great old drive-in food."

"Aside from the karaoke, it sounds like fun."

"It is. My husband and I teach Sunday school to the teenagers at our church, and we took them there once. We had a ball! Everyone has to go in costume."

"Costume?" Audrey scowled.

"From the fifties. When we went, I wore this great poodle skirt I found at a vintage shop."

"She should have told me. I don't have anything like that with me," she said.

"We've got you covered. Tomorrow, a group of us from the hotel are taking you and Carly for a morning at the spa. One of the people joining us is our friend Fee, and we're going to her place afterward to raid her closet. She'll have a ton of stuff to choose from."

"Just hanging in her closet," Audrey clarified.

"You'll have to meet Fee to understand, but she's very . . . unique."

"After my own heart. I can't wait."

"It's going to be so much fun," Carly said as she joined them at the table and twisted the cap off a soda. "I can't wait for you to meet everyone here. We've all become very fast friends."

"Sounds like it."

"Oh, I wish you still lived here in Atlanta, Aud."

She wished Carly knew that New York had been such a disappointment to her. However, she saw no good coming from admitting that out loud. Things could still work out somehow, couldn't they?

"Hey, do you want to see where we're holding the ceremony and reception?"

"Sure."

"Let's take a walk. And maybe Emma's in the kitchen. You're going to love her."

Carly had brushed her hair loose again and wore skinny jeans and a floral blouse with butterfly sleeves.

"Sherilyn told you all about the Jack-and-Jill?"

Audrey nodded. It didn't exactly feel like Audrey's cup of tea, but if dressing up and drinking a milkshake was how her childhood friend wanted Audrey to spend the night before the big wedding, who was she to play Party Pooper? Sure, she'd don a poodle skirt and bobby socks. But she vowed to draw the line at black and white saddle shoes.

 

 

 

 

Jack-n-Jill went up the hill

to shout, "I love you madly!"

Jack, he bowled,

and Jill rock-n-rolled,

and all their friends sang badly.

 

Join us for a Jack-and-Jill bachelor/bachelorette party
the night before our wedding.

 

There will be bowling, dancing, great food,

and——YES, FRIENDS——

there will be karaoke!

 

Happy Days in Sandy Springs

Friday night at 7:00

 

It's a 1950s sock-hop theme, folks,
so everyone should come in costume!

 

Dig out your saddle shoes and grease up your pompadours.

 

BE THERE OR BE SQUARE!

 

 

 

 

BOOK: Always the Designer, Never the Bride
5.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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