Always the Designer, Never the Bride (26 page)

"Ah, Audrey. You're right on time. Come in, come in."

"You remember my assistant, Katarina Ivanov?"

"Charmed," he said without looking at Kat. "Take a load off, both of you."

They sat down in narrow acrylic chairs, and Audrey couldn't help but gaze out the window. "That must be the best view in Atlanta."

"It should be," he replied. "Now tell me about this project you're working on. I want details."

"Well, it's a wedding gown for a bride who had been working with Riley Eastwood," she said. "They had a parting of the ways with only three weeks to the wedding, and the bride has asked me to step in."

"For Riley Eastwood."

"Yes."

"I know Riley. If this bride of yours wasn't happy with her design, I'm wondering—"

"Oh, I know. I had the same thought," she interjected. "But you know how it goes. Sometimes designer and client just don't have the same vision."

LaMont cleared his throat, leaned back in his uncomfortable-looking chair, and stared her down. Just about the time she began to resist the inclination to squirm, he blinked.

"I have a new line gearing up," he said without inflection. "The patterns staff starts on the third of next month. At that time, all of the work space will be occupied."

"We'll be out of your hair before that," she promised.

"I don't normally lend out work space to other designers, you understand."

"I know. And I'm so appreciative."

"It's just not done. But in your case, since you're a fish out of your Soho pond—"
He knows I'm in Soho?
"—and, in some distorted way, I do owe you a little something. After Kim."
The traitor.
"So you can feel free to use the space and the equipment. You'll need to order your own supplies."

"Yes. We will."

"Monique will give you a code to enter the room and lock it up when you're not here."

"All right."

"You and Ms. Ivanov will be added to the security list so you can come and go after hours, if need be."

"Thank you so much, Wes."

He depressed a button on a small black box on the corner of his desk, and it wasn't until he began to speak that Audrey realized he must be donning the smallest bluetooth headset on the planet. "Monique, show Ms. Regan to her work space and answer any questions she might have."

Before she could thank him again, the office door slid open and Monique stood just inside it. She rolled her hand impatiently, and both Audrey and Kat hopped to their feet.

"Thank you again." She offered her hand, and LaMont shook it somewhat reluctantly.

"If you need anything, let Monique know."

Not-so-secret code for Don't Bother Me.

They followed
Moniquelina
down the long corridor, past the first door, and beyond the design spaces. Two of the rooms were occupied by three or four people, another was set up like a conference room and filled with several more worker bees whose necks craned along with them as they passed.

"The code to the door," Monique told them as she punched it in, "is 76281."

Kat scrambled for her notebook and pen, scribbling a quick note.

"You don't have to punch anything before or after. Just the numbers."

"Got it," Kat replied.

"There's a desk in the corner," she said, pointing out the obvious about the large room with windows on two sides. "A cutting table. A sewing machine. A dress form. Various . . ." She wiggled her fingers toward a large cabinet built into the wall. ". . . design
accoutremah.
Is there anything else you'll need?"

Audrey jumped a bit. "Oh. No. I don't think so."

"Lunch is delivered every afternoon at two o'clock. If you want to order, tell Billie at reception by one. Stop and see her on your way out and she'll issue you a pass for the parking garage next door. If you parked in one of the lots on this block, Billie will also validate. See yourselves out when you're through."

Without another word, she spun around on her five-inch Jimmy Choos and made her exit.

"Well." Kat grimaced. "We're not inviting
her
to join us at the slumber party, are we?"

Audrey popped with laughter. "But it would be kind of funny to see what her jammies look like."

The two of them stood there surveying their surroundings. Finally, Audrey let out a chuckle. Kat giggled too.

"Can you believe this, Audrey?" Kat asked her.

"Hardly."

"We're in Weston LaMont's design studio. In a corner space."

"Yep. We sure are."

"It's way nicer than I imagined. How about you?"

"I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that they order lunch for everyone every day," Audrey told her.

"Do you think we have to pay for it?"

"Just in case . . . we're on a diet."

"Agreed."

"Hey, Audrey," Kat said softly, moving in close as if to share a big secret. "What if he gets a load of what you've designed for Lisette, and he goes crazy for it and offers you a big job here, designing with him. Wouldn't that be bonkers?"

Audrey grinned. "Number one:
bonkers?
You're spending too much time with Russell Walker. Number two: there's only one designer at Weston LaMont Designs. If he offered me employment, it would be as a pattern maker or a seamstress, not a designer."

Kat looked around with a huge grin stretched across her face. "Well, you're here now," she said.

Audrey decided not to point out that she was there on a temporary visa.

"It's your opportunity to soak up the atmosphere," Kat said, and she squeezed Audrey's wrist. "Catch the vision of a big design business."

"A little something to keep me warm on those cold winter nights when I have to live under the Brooklyn Bridge?"

She poked Audrey's ribs with her elbow. "Stop."

Lisette stood in the middle of the room in her bra and slacks, her arms outstretched as Kat wrapped the tape measure around her waist.

"And I think my poor dad is about ready to go a little crazy with all of the last-minute details. Oh, but you should have seen him with the tailor last night, telling him all about the flowers and the cake. He's turning into a regular Colin Cowie."

"Oh, I love him," Kat remarked as she jotted the measurement down on the notepad.

Audrey twisted her hair into a knot, grabbed a pen from the desk, and fastened it in the bun like a chopstick.

"This hotel is really stunning," Lisette commented as Kat continued measuring. "I love the brick courtyard, and the ornate carved wood desk in the lobby. I'll bet the weddings held here are amazing."

"Where is your wedding venue, by the way?" Audrey asked. "I was surprised to hear that your dad and Jackson are friends but that you weren't booked here."

"Oh, I'd love to have a small enough wedding to hold it here."

"The main ballroom holds three or four hundred people, I think," Kat commented.

"My guest list is nearly five hundred."

Kat and Audrey looked at each other for a long, pregnant moment before each of them turned back to Lisette.

"Five
hundred?"
Kat exclaimed.

"Yeah. Gauche, right?"

"Well, no. I'm just . . .
Five hundred?
It must have been a logistical nightmare to find a venue for a wedding that size!"

"You have no idea. But the Omni is gorgeous. Plus they have accommodations for all of our out-of-town guests."

Audrey's heart began to race. No wonder Lisette had been more concerned with having the right dress than with the money it would take to commission it.

"I'm sorry. But . . . well . . . speaking of gauche, I hope this doesn't sound that way. But . . ."

When she paused momentarily, searching for the right words, Lisette chuckled. "Go ahead. Ask away."

"Jackson said your father is
an electrician."

"He did?" Lisette tossed her blonde hair and grinned. "Well, I guess that's true in a slightly abstract way. Have you ever heard of Gibson Light & Magic?"

Audrey's racing heart began to tap like a bass drum. "That's your dad?"

"The special effects company?" Kat asked, and she tossed the pencil down on the notepad and whooped. "They're huge!"

"Yeah. That's my dad."

"They do effects for movies and concert tours," Kat told Audrey, as if she didn't already know. "They built that whole fireworks extravaganza for Sherry Pazone's last tour."

My dress . . . five hundred . . . out-of-town guests . . .

And Audrey had thought Kim Renfroe was her only avenue to a high profile wedding gown!

Audrey fell back on the bed, and she launched back up again with a shout when the pen holding her hair in place poked into her skull.

"Are you okay?" Lisette inquired.

"Fine. I just . . . Fine."

Kat broke free in response to a knock at the hotel room door, giving Audrey a few moments to control her breathing and claw her way back down to earth. When she glanced up again, a little munchkin in pink boots stood in front of her.

"Aren't you the lady who makes dresses for Barbie?"

"I am," Audrey said with a wide smile. "And you're Roslyn, wearing your very pretty pink boots."

"Mommy! Aunt Lisette's wedding dress-maker makes dresses for
Barbie!
Are you gonna make my dress for the wedding too?"

"Well, I'm not going to make it. But I'm going to fit it to you."

Roslyn leaned in closer and softly asked, "Could you make it sparkly? It's kinda plain."

"Sparkly is what I do best," Audrey whispered, and she raised her hand and high-fived the little girl.

"Are you serious? I thought we were just cutting the cake and taking some pictures! I never expected all of this."

Carly's astonishment lit up her face as they walked into the small ballroom. She reached behind her and squeezed Audrey's hand. "Can you believe this?"

Sherilyn had indeed outdone herself. A thousand twinkling lights created a canopy over the room, and rows of staggeredheight electric candles flickered along three of the four walls. Three rectangular tables arranged in the shape of a large U and draped with deep blue linens displayed elegant china and crystal settings. Red and white roses flanked the exquisite cake on a side table next to a small dance floor, and a polished white Baby Grand piano sat angled into the corner of the room.

"What do you think?" Sherilyn asked them as she sauntered in the door.

Carly didn't bother to use her words; she just propelled herself at Sherilyn and tugged her into an enthusiastic hug.

Sherilyn giggled and rocked Carly from side to side. "I wanted you to have something special after all you two have been through."

"It's above and beyond," Devon told her over Carly's shoulder. "This is awesome."

"Your guests should start arriving in about ten minutes," she told them. "We'll set up a buffet on the far wall, nothing too fancy, just some tapas."

"You and Andy will be here, right?"

"We wouldn't miss it," she said with a grin. "This is Andy's night at Miguel's soup kitchen. He should finish up any minute and head over from there. We received responses from twelve of the fifteen people on your short list. So get yourself a beverage, and have fun."

Audrey caught Sherilyn by the arm and softly asked, "What's with the piano?"

"A little surprise," she told her, eyes glistening. "Stay tuned!"

Over the next few minutes, guests began to filter into the room. Audrey recognized most of them as wedding guests and hotel staff. For some reason, it didn't seem even remotely strange to find Emma and Jackson, Sherilyn and Andy, and Fee and Sean among the invited guests. The Tanglewood seemed to have a special magic about it; everyone who passed through ended up as some sort of extended family. Russell had fallen out of a tree and into their lives, for crying out loud, and now he had taken on the unique role of the crazy roaming brother.

J. R. had forged a place of his own as well, and Audrey watched him as he chatted with Emma and Fee, the three of them laughing and amiable. He looked so handsome in black jeans and a dark plum shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow, and a same-tone dark plum tie knotted loosely around an open collar. She loved the shaggy layers of warm brown hair that skimmed that collar, the steel-blue eyes with a fringe of golden-brown lashes, even the colorful artwork just barely peeking out from the rolled cuff of his sleeve. She pretty much liked everything about J. R. Hunt, in fact.