Waking Sleeping Beauty (22 page)

“Ain’t that the truth,” Peg called out from the family table.

“Hear, hear,” Rico chimed in. Picking up his wine glass, he clinked it against Peg’s and they both took a long swig.

A round of laughter ensued.

“Yes, thank you. I’m sure I’ve tried most of your patience.”

“And how,” Bertha Cogsdale, her former manager, quipped. Several giggles rippled through the crowd.

“I realize you gave me a chance not for me, but because of my late stepfather. I will be forever indebted to you for that.” Tears smarted her eyes at the mention of her stepfather. She could not let his memory down. She could not let disgrace shame his good name.

“To Charles King,” a woman to her left cried out, holding up her glass of champagne.

“To Charles,” many of the attendees said as they raised their glasses. “Great man. The best.”

She waited for the audience to finish their impromptu, heartfelt tribute.

“Get on with it, will you? I came to see a wedding, by golly,” Ophelia, the wedding dress department manager, proclaimed, smacking the table with her hand. China and silverware rattled.

Francine forced a smile. Perspiration dotted her brow. Time had run out. “I have a confession to make. There won’t be a wedding.”

“What?!” Shouts rang out.

“I knew it! I just knew it!” Ms. Shepard from housewares proclaimed.

“You lied! How dare you do that to us,” someone in the far table cried out. “All this build up for nothing! How are we going to explain this to our customers?”

Miss Hillary, the shoe department manager, dabbed a napkin to her face. “We’re through. Oh, King’s is through.”

“I take full responsibility,” she said, meaning it.

“I knew you were a fraud. I knew we couldn’t trust you. Why, you’re just like your mother.” She couldn’t tell who’d said it, but it cut to her core.

“For God’s sake, what about the male models? That doctor fellow? Can’t you even snag him?” Ophelia asked with disgust.

Her knees wobbled. “No, none of them would do. I can’t settle for just anyone.”

“You can’t be too picky.” A man from accounting nudged up his glasses on his nose.

“I focused on the wrong thing, the wedding, and forgot about the man. It’s not about
how
you marry; it’s about
who
you marry. I know what I want and need now.”

More nasty comments followed, overlapping in their growing anger.

Two opposite reactions rushed through Francie, one to bolt and the other to stay rooted to the spot. Her feet felt like cement, her legs frozen in place. “I realize it’s all my fault. I’m to blame for this mess. And I’ll fix it. I’m resigning—”

“No, Francine,” Marcus said, coming away from the fringes of the room.

He looked so good standing there. So strong, so solid.

A hush came over the crowd.

“Marcus,” she whispered. He meant everything to her.

“I didn’t want to do this here or in public, but I see now is as good a time as any.” He nodded to the agitated employees.

 Blocking the others out, she addressed him directly, “I wanted the fairy tale. When I was a little girl, I felt all alone even though I had my mother and sister. Then one day this wonderful man came into our lives. Charles King made me believe that dreams do come true. My mother smiled, even laughed. For the first time I could remember, she hugged us, so close to her I could hear her heart beat. The day she married my stepfather…” She choked back tears. “Was the happiest day of my life. Everything seemed perfect. After he died, I clung to the memory of that wedding. I thought if only I could have that perfect wedding for myself, then I could be as happy as I was that day.”

He moved out of the shadows. She longed to reach out to him. “You still can, Francie.”

Shaking her head, she said, “Ironically, becoming King’s wedding consultant, I’ve discovered that the perfect wedding doesn’t exist. I’ve been chasing a dream that doesn’t exist.”

“You and me both, honey,” Rico called out. “There is no Mr. Perfect.” The laughter that followed eased her tension.

“I can’t live like that any longer.”

“Like what, Francie?” Marcus asked, shrugging. “Is it so bad to have a dream?”

She sucked in a breath. “An unattainable one, yes.”

“Is it? Maybe when you try for the unattainable, there are other dreams that come true, dreams you never thought were possible or dreams you never knew you had deep down inside.”

“But you don’t believe in love or marriage.”

“I believe in you, Francine King. I believe in
us
.” His declaration rang out, causing a ripple of gasps to echo all around her and her heart to tug.

“I knew it. I just knew it,” Ms. Shepard repeated with glee. “You weren’t faking it, were you?”

“The boss and the wedding consultant?” The man from the accounting department’s shocked voice led the pack in disbelief.

“No pretend attraction?” one of the salesgirls in the women’s department asked, her tone disappointed.

“You mean the two of them?” Ophelia cried out. “Oh, I need a drink. Hard liquor for this one.”

“Marcus, what are you saying?” Francie’s breath caught. She searched his face.

His gaze locked with hers. “I never knew I wanted a home, a place to belong, a person to belong to. Not until I met you.” He stepped within three feet of her, still staring into her eyes. “What do you want?”

“You,” she said without thinking.

The employees gasped again.

Heat crawled into her cheeks. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

He grinned, that lop-sided, sexy smile that made her knees buckle. “Is that all?” Even from here, she could see the teasing light in his gorgeous green eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to live in sin? Or would you prefer marriage?”

Her heart thumped in her chest. “Do you want the truth?”

“Always.”

“I want to marry you, Marcus Goode.”

The men chuckled and the ladies clapped. His mother cried out in joy.

“Is that a proposal?” His grin widened.

“Only if you say yes.”

He laughed now, taking the last few steps to stand directly in front of her. “I don’t have a ring, but I hope this will do for now.” He tugged off the gold watch he always wore, her gift to her stepfather years ago, and gently placed it around her wrist. “Love forever,” he whispered the engraved inscription on the back. Cupping her face in his hands, he said, “Yes. I’ll marry you right here and right now.”

***

Less than an hour later, in the changing area she’d set up earlier, Francie stood before the mirror, wearing the custom wedding dress. “It’s gorgeous,” she said in awe. Her suggestions, Charlie’s design, and Dolly’s skillful sewing had come to life. The delicate beading covering the fitted bodice, slight flare of the skirt, and intricate beaded design of the King’s Department Store crown logo along the hem were more than she’d ever imagined.

“No, you are, girl,” Rico cried, fluffing up the fabric near the hem. “To die for!”

“He’s right,” Charlie said. She wore one of the bridesmaid’s dresses now. Speaking low, she said, “If I thought you were only doing this for the store, I’d nix this. But, I could see you falling in love with him right before my eyes.”

“Pretty obvious, wasn’t I?” Francie shrugged.

“The most amazing part was I saw Marcus falling in love with you, too. It just took him a little longer to realize he couldn’t live without you.”

It still amazed Francie that Marcus had put his heart on the line. His confession touched the most tender place in her. She’d treasure the moment and his love for the rest of her life.

“I’m so happy for you, honey,” Dolly cooed. “Why, I just knew the minute I saw you two together you had eyes for each other. It’s so romantic.”

Priscilla sniffed. She wore another bridesmaid’s dress. “I’m crying. I never cry.”

“You look divine, dear,” Marcus’ mother chimed in.

Francie turned to the older woman. Taking a few steps, she came closer and reached for her hand. Holding it tenderly, she said, “Mrs. Reed,” tears gathered and she blinked to keep them at bay, “you were the guiding force, the loving light that somehow kept Marcus going through all the dark days while he was growing up. He’s such a wonderful man because of you.”

“Oh, it does my heart good to hear those lovely words. And I’m so delighted you will be my daughter.” She smiled. “This doesn’t mean we have to stop talking weddings, does it? I do love our little talks.”

“I love them, too. But, Marcus and Isaac may get sick of it.”

“Then we’ll have a girls’ day every now and then. They can do whatever men do while we chat or have our nails done.”

Her heart warmed. “I can’t wait.”

“Shake a leg, will ya?” Peg poked her head into the room, and then she stopped and came all the way in. “Holy, all that is good and great, Francie. You look like a princess!”

Warmth dotted her cheeks as Francie turned to her friend. “I feel like one, too.”

“Don’t forget the veil!” Evelyn cried, rushing to her with the long wisp of fabric trimmed with beads.

A few minutes later, with her family and friends fussing over her, Francie nodded. “I’m ready to become Marcus’ wife.”

***

The employees’ standing ovation shocked her as she walked down the makeshift aisle. Their applause nearly drowned out her escort’s words. “Girl, you got it going on.”

“Thanks, Rico.”

“I wish I’d known I’d be giving you away. You could tell a friend, ya know,” Rico said. “Then I coulda borrowed the two-carat, tear-drop diamond earrings from the vault again.”

“I’m good. You saw Charlie let me borrow her diamond studs. Smaller diamonds are better with this dress.”

“Not for you, honey. For me.”

She chuckled. The photographer snapped another shot. Beyond him, she spotted Marcus. Tall, broad shoulders, and sexier than ever, he stood waiting for her. “Talk about divine,” she whispered.

“And how,” Rico agreed. They both giggled. “Is his friend single?” he asked, eyeing Stuart standing beside Marcus as his best man.

“Check out the ring on his left hand.”

He sighed. “Not fair. All the good ones are taken.”

With only a few steps to go, Rico nudged her toward her groom. “Save a dance for me, big guy,” he said loud enough for the nearby attendees to hear. Laughter rang out.

Francie watched as Marcus’ gaze traveled the length of her, and then back up, meeting her stare.

“Stunning,” he murmured, “and I don’t mean just the dress.” His warm voice poured over her like honey. His gorgeous green eyes made her insides melt. “You’re beautiful. My Sleeping Beauty.”

Her heart tugged as she drew near him. Neither one of them would ever forget the moment they met, she in the designer wedding dress and the kiss they’d shared. “Coincidence or fate?” she asked the same question he’d asked about his mother and her beau.

“Fate, my love, fate.”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Even your mother and Isaac?” She giggled as she nodded to her future mother-in-law and her soon-to-be husband beside them at the altar. In front of them, the justice of the peace thumbed through his paperwork, waiting to begin the proceedings. “You realize she’ll be Martha Washington now, right?”

He grinned. “Believe me, this will be my one and only wedding and my mother’s last.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Me, too,” his mother chimed in.

“Ditto that, sweetie pie,” Isaac said, tapping his foot to a rhythm only he could hear.

“Ready to make this the happiest day of your life?” Marcus asked Francie.

Time seemed to stand still as she gazed into his eyes. He’d been more than she’d ever imagined, more than she’d dreamt of. “It already is, with or without the wedding.”

Real life was even better than any of her dreams ever were, she realized.

Now, if only she could help Priscilla find someone…

The End

Laurie LeClair
writes contemporary romance and women’s fiction. Laurie’s habit of daydreaming has gotten her into a few scrapes and launched her to take up her dream of writing. Finally, she can put all those stories in her head to rest as she brings them to life on the page. Laurie considers herself a New Texan (New England born and raised and now living in Texas.)

Contact me at:

twitter.com/LeClairbooks

facebook.com/laurieleclair

Other books by Laurie LeClair

Once Upon A Romance Series:

If The Shoes Fits – Book 1

Taming McGruff – Book 3

Here’s an excerpt from book 3 in the Once Upon A Romance Series.

Chapter 1

The bell over the salon door tinkled, breaking the silence. Someone in Priscilla King’s peripheral vision entered.

“Hey, you forget something, Rico?” she asked, walking to the front of King’s Department Store beauty salon. Shuffling through the file folder she carried, full of glossy pictures and detailed printouts for the upcoming remodel, her heart tugged. She longed to make her own unique stamp on the store. She realized even though she helped manage the salon now, this remodel wouldn’t be hers; it was a continuation of the recent Charmings theme in the store and wedding boutique.

If only she could find something she could soar at, prove she was worthy to work there. But, more importantly, she dreamed of proving she was worthy of the iconic King name her late stepfather had bestowed on her and her older sister when he adopted them years ago.

Shaking her head, Priscilla shut the file and glanced up. A tall, dark-haired, broad shouldered man stood beside the reception counter. Intensity rolled off him. His gaze penetrated.
Sexy
. She sucked in a sharp breath. Her steps faltered. “You’re not Rico.”