“Hello, darlings,” a familiar voice called out.
Glancing at Lorea, I suppressed an eye-roll and went to greet our client.
“Sylvia, how are you?”
“I’m feeling radiant. Isn’t that how people describe a lovely bride?” Her hand fluttered, and the flash from a gargantuan diamond crossed my showroom as Sylvia Rockfort approached.
As usual, I struggled to come up with an appropriate response to her self-aggrandizing behavior. So I settled for a nod and a smile.
Sylvia looked as if she’d just stepped off a movie set. Her auburn hair was straight with just the right amount of shine, and the jeweled belt she wore with a light blue sundress accentuated her tiny waist. She directed one of her glamour-girl smiles my way. “I can’t wait to see my dress, although it probably will need to be taken in around the waist.”
I thought I heard Lorea groan from the back room.
“Lorea will be happy to help make it a perfect fit,” I answered Sylvia with a plastic smile. Depending on who you asked, I had either done something very good or very bad to deserve a bride like Sylvia. Her Hollywood-style wedding at the end of June would bring in a fat paycheck, but would I be sane enough when it was over to cash it? I fidgeted, smoothing out invisible wrinkles on my lime-green blouse.
“Adrielle, I really wish you’d consider trying out my hair stylist.” Sylvia leaned toward me and lifted one of my blonde strands, letting the length of it slip through her fingers. “Not quite curly, not quite straight.”
“It’s called relaxed, Sylvia,” Lorea said as she came to the front of the shop. “You should try it. Adri’s hair is beautiful.”
Sylvia’s blue eyes narrowed. They were set too close together, and the plastic surgeon’s symmetry must have been off when he fixed her nose because one of the nostrils flared in a crooked slant when she was annoyed or angry. I cleared my throat and accidentally elbowed Lorea. “What she means is, my hair stylist thinks it’s beautiful, and I’m not due for another trim yet.”
“Follow me,” Lorea said. “I have everything ready for your first fitting.”
I hung back and listened to Sylvia’s exclamations of delight as she examined the gown, and Lorea helped her try it on. We didn’t have a private fitting room in the bungalow-turned-wedding headquarters, but I had set up a partition which offered the look and feel we were after.
“We’re ready,” Lorea called.
I thought I heard a note of satisfaction in her voice, and when I entered the room I could see why. Lorea held a measuring tape and slowly twirled the bride-to-be in front of our full-length mirror. The satin bodice was tight-fitting against Sylvia’s small waist, and the dress flared at the hip line, flattering her tall physique. Lorea put on a tiny pair of reading glasses she kept on a beaded chain around her neck to magnify her work. She examined the hem carefully.
Sylvia leaned over and looked at the hem as well. “I love the design, don’t you?”
Lorea nodded, and I could see her shoulders relax. “It’s lovely.”
“We need to get a couple more mirrors to do that gown justice,” I said. “You look beautiful.”
“Isn’t it divine?” Sylvia fingered the delicate beadwork on the bodice. “I love how it sparkles. Lorea said it would be bad luck to try on the other gown when this one is so obviously me, but I just have to make sure.”
“I think I agree with Lorea.” I inclined my head slightly and lifted a brow. Lorea shrugged and held up her crossed fingers.
The creamy strapless gown showed off Sylvia’s tanned skin. She had pulled her auburn locks into a chignon for the fitting. Sylvia did look beautiful. Even though she hadn’t been lovely to deal with, it was a nice change to see a smile and relaxed brows instead of the spoiled slant I had come to expect.
“I feel like everything is going to be perfect now,” Sylvia said. “Oh, Adri, I know I’ve been difficult. Things have just been so stressful with Natalie planning her wedding the same time as mine.” Sylvia stepped forward and grasped my hands. “But now it just feels like everything is coming together like I dreamed it would.”
My nerves tingled at the mention of the person Sylvia considered her rival and worst enemy, Natalie Berlin. I hurried to change the subject. “Everything is on schedule, and I’m meeting with a couple new caterers for your bridal shower. I think one of them might be perfect for the theme you’ve selected.”
“What about the country club?” The familiar slant returned. “Will they budge on the time at all?” She straightened, trying to appear taller, but my five-foot-ten inch height couldn’t be matched by her high heels.
My head began to throb. “They were firm about their time frame, but I was able to reserve the club starting at two o’clock as a special circumstance.”
“Wonderful!” Sylvia clapped her hands, and I noticed Lorea’s attempt at a fake smile.
“I’m almost finished, Sylvia,” Lorea said. “The dress seems to have been made for you. Only a few minor alterations will be needed.”
I looked at the gown again. It was beautiful.
“Adri, can you pull out the other gown while Lorea finishes up? My friend Lisa says that she could be getting a ring any day. I thought she might like the other dress.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Lorea interrupted. “It’s the third dress hanging over there.” She pointed, and her eyes seemed to scream at me, Just play along!
My steps were hesitant as I approached the line of garment bags. Each wedding gown was a possibility and a risk at the same time. Did Lorea think that one of the gowns was close enough to Sylvia’s alternate? If so, I hoped she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. For half a second, a part of me thought about coming
