The Wedding Flight

by Nancy Warren

  She got a genuine smile in return. “Thank you.”

  Meg asked, “How long do you think you can keep that dress, the Evangeline gown, before you have to sell it?”

  “Well, that's really up to Joe and me. And Dylan of course, since he does all our marketing. It's definitely brought in a lot of business but we can't keep it forever.”

  “I know. I only wish I had the money to buy it now.”

  Janet glanced at her in surprise. “You said you aren’t engaged.”

  This time she did blush, and couldn't help her gaze flicking to Dylan and back again. “I know. But I feel like once you have a great dress, then when the guy comes along you're ready.”

  Janet laughed. And her gaze followed Meg’s. “So that's the way it is. Well, I don't know you very well but I like you a hell of a lot more than that stick insect he was dating before you.”

  Meg giggled and then said, one woman to another, “She was in here yesterday. She did seem kind of terrifying.”

  “Yes. I heard about that. And the little scene she put on for your benefit.”

  “Why would she do something like that? Dylan said he hadn't even seen her for two months.”

  “I would be willing to bet that she somehow heard about you and like many a woman before, never loved a man so much as when she was in danger of losing him.”

  “He is pretty special.”

  “Dylan? Oh, he is that. I like you two together. The energy I feel between you.”

  Okay so she didn't have a new client as a stepping stone to a job promotion, but maybe it was more important that someone Dylan liked and respected welcomed Meg as a new addition into his life.

  When he came back he said, “I’ve got some good news I can't wait to tell you about later.”

  “Well, I can't wait to hear it.”

  “We’ll be closing the store in an hour, why don’t I swing by your place and pick you up?”

  His aunt who was in easy earshot turned around. “Dylan, sweetheart. I’ll close up tonight. There’s only an hour left and I don't think we'll see another rush like we did. If we do, they'll just have to be patient.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. It's a beautiful day. You should get out and enjoy it.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  When they headed out he said, “Let’s go back to Griffith Park and take a walk.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Griffith Park? Really? It has very bad memories for me.”

  He gave her quizzical look, “It has pretty good memories for me.”

  “Okay, I can get past the jogging experience and then the rest was definitely pretty good.”

  He glanced down at her feet. “Can you walk in those shoes?”

  They were flat leather sandals and next to her sneakers her most comfortable footwear. “I can.”

  “Perfect.” They took his car to Griffith Park and chose a different path, hiking up near the observatory so they looked out over the city. He took her hand and said, “You know what I did this morning?”

  She didn’t think he was referring to their early morning lovemaking session, so she said, “What?”

  “I moved a stack of men's plaid shirts into the ladies lingerie area.”

  She giggled. “You did?”

  “Oh yeah.” He was openly grinning now. “And then some poor woman had to call my name three times before I realized she needed help. My concentration was completely shot.” He leaned closer and brushed a stray curl off her cheek, “I kept thinking about you, and last night.” He closed the distance between them and kissed her.

  When they finally pulled away, she said, “I tried to work on manuscripts and, honestly, I can't remember what a single one of them was about. I would be reading and ten pages would have gone by and well, I was thinking of the same things you were.”

  “Glad I’m not the only one.”

  “You aren’t.”

  He kissed her again and then, when their walk veered towards X-rated she said, “What's the good news you wanted to tell me about?”

  “Oh, right. My partners called me earlier. Our software is ready for beta testing.”

  She was no computer expert but that sounded very good. “Wow, that's great!”

  “Three years of hard work have gone into this. We could be on the market within six months.” He sounded really excited. “This could be my big break.”

  “I’m so excited for you and your colleagues.”

  “I'm probably going to have to stop working at Joe's for a bit and put all my efforts into the startup. Luckily Aunt Janet is around, so she can take over for me.”

  “That's good.”

  He nudged her. “Which will give you more opportunities to stalk her.”

  She shook her head. It was a good thing one of them had good news on the career front. She said, “She was very honest with me. She talked to her agent in New York and they claim they already have some agents looking at her stuff for a possible film. She's not going to piss off her main agent, she's too loyal.”

  He nodded, looking sympathetic. “I'm sorry.”

  She shrugged. “I’m no worse off than I was a few days ago before I had ever met your aunt. I just need to keep looking. The right project is out there, I just have to find it.” And soon. She had heard that the senior agents were going to make a decision within the next couple of weeks. While she knew her work was excellent and she was reliable and tremendously good at getting things done, and their clients liked her, it wasn't enough. She had to bring in new clients and projects if she wanted to be an agent and not spend her life as an assistant.

  As though he could read her mind he rubbed a hand down her back. “Don't worry. Things will work out.”

  “I hope you're right.”

  At least one area of her life seemed to be going amazingly well.

  Chapter 13

  They sat for a while telling their stories and catching each other up on their lives to date. Everything about him was fascinating to her and she realized that, as relatively uninteresting as her life had been, he found her fascinating, too.

  She suspected that was the thing about love. It made an ordinary person seem extraordinary. Not that there was anything ordinary about Dylan. And she didn't think that was her emotions clouding her judgment. He was a man who chose to work on a startup instead of taking a steady job with a good paycheck. He was a man who didn't feel that his masculinity was threatened by working in a vintage store. She felt that he knew who he was and was very comfortable in his own skin. She also believed that Dylan was a man who was destined for success. Their software would genuinely help people to stay safer on the Internet. She liked that he was working on something important.

  After they had shared confidences in the late afternoon sunshine, they decided to head back to his place where he’d promised to cook her dinner. She could imagine nights and nights of dinners at home. It was too easy to see a future stretch, too much as though she were writing her own happily-ever-after. And yet, she felt that, for her, meeting Dylan had been a defining moment in her life. Whatever happened, there would be a before Dylan and an after Dylan. She only hoped that he’d continue to star in the after-meeting-Dylan portion of her story.

  They bought fresh fish, the makings of a salad, crusty bread and a bottle of wine, and then they headed back to his place. She made the salad while he prepared fish and warmed the bread. He poured the wine and even lit candles so that when they sat down to eat at his small table it was as romantic as the fanciest French restaurant.

  He raised his glass. “I would like to propose a toast.”

  She raised her glass and watched the candlelight wink against her white wine. He said, “To the wedding-gown designer Evangeline for bringing us together.”

  Such a delightful toast and so absolutely perfect that she echoed, “To Evangeline.”

  Then she bit into her fish, perfectly cooked and said, “Mmm. You really can cook.” She liked that they were eating at home, without
the intrusion of waiters and the fuss of ordering. She liked that he’d cooked for her.

  When they were done with dinner he said, “Do you want to go get some gelato for dessert?”

  She shook her head. “You know what I want for dessert?”

  There was a disturbing gleam in his eyes as though he knew exactly what she was about to say. She said, “I want you.”

  They never made it to the bedroom. She discovered that the couch in the living room was exactly as comfortable as it looked.

  Monday she had to be at work early so she left Dylan’s place and headed back to hers. In the early morning she crept in, showered, changed, and headed to work. Already she was wondering if she should leave a few essentials at Dylan's place even though she knew it was way too soon to be commandeering cupboard or drawer space. She wondered how long a woman had to wait before being granted shelf space in a man's house. Was there some unspoken rule? Somehow, she felt that the regular rules were never going to apply with her and Dylan. Their relationship seemed to be headed on a path all its own.

  Even though she had a fat load of nothing to offer the senior agents, she couldn't help the good mood that carried her into work. Even when Anthony Rowen came into her cubicle with his normal Monday-morning serious expression and warned her that the future of the company depended on her, and even when she overheard that one of the other assistants—a young sci-fi and fantasy geek—had signed a promising new client with a trilogy that was meant to rival Game of Thrones, she refused to panic.

  Her time would come. Normally, she’d never be this complacent. Great sex did wonders for putting her career angst into perspective.

  She was working hard, and she was doubling her efforts to figure out a strategy for finding the project or client that would boost her career. She’d joined a writer’s group and an Indie film club, hoping to scoop the next great talent and she was combing through the endless slush pile hoping for treasure.

  As busy as she and Dylan both were, they spent every night together. She’d never known she could be this happy. It was almost frightening, as though something menacing must be waiting around the corner to smash her bliss.

  It happened on Friday.

  Her day began as usual, and after a busy morning she thought maybe Dylan would like a lunch break. She called and he answered right away, but his voice sounded strained. She wished she’d swallowed her impulse to call. She knew he was working crazy hours. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  There was a pause and then he said, “No. Not really.”

  “I was wondering if you wanted to get away for lunch?”

  There was another pause. He said, “I think maybe you should come by the store.”

  “Joe’s? I thought you were working at home today.”

  “I was. But we have a situation.”

  For some reason her heart began hammering in her chest. She pictured break-ins, explosions or fires. For a second she pictured her dress up in flames and she nearly moaned. Then she remembered that people were more important than clothing and asked, “Is everybody okay?”

  “Yes. Everyone's fine. Come over and I'll explain.”

  She didn't even close her current computer file, she just grabbed her bag and ran. Something about Dylan's voice had filled her with an impending sense of doom.

  It was too close to take the car so she pretty much jogged the few blocks to Joe's Past and Present. Her sense of unease grew when she saw that the window display had changed. No longer did the Evangeline wedding gown hold pride of place in center stage with the dwindling supply of bridesmaid dresses surrounding it. Instead, there was a kind of retro fifties beach scene, with a picnic basket and full-skirted cotton dresses. She pushed through the door and the bells sounded far too cheerful.

  Dylan, Joe and Janet were standing in a circle looking concerned. Fortunately, there was no one else in the store. She approached them and asked, “What's going on?”

  She was happy to note that there was no fire damage, the roof hadn’t fallen in, and clearly the three people most involved in the shop were all perfectly healthy and safe. But all three looked at her and she saw concern and sadness in all of their faces.

  Joe finally said, “Dylan, you'd better tell her.”

  He walked forward and took her hand. “It's the Evangeline gown.”

  “Oh, no.” Somehow she’d known it was the gown. She felt as though lead weights had taken up residence in her belly. “What about it?”

  He said, “It's been stolen.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “What?”

  Janet stepped forward. “I'm so sorry, it was my fault.”

  Dylan shook his head. “No. It was my fault. I never should have taken so much time off this week and left you alone in the store yesterday afternoon.”

  Janet took up the tale. “It got busy yesterday afternoon. Joe was taking a day off and I was on my own. It was no big deal, I could handle it. But, of course, I couldn't keep an eagle eye on every single customer. A woman who had been in earlier insisted on trying on the Evangeline wedding gown. I took it off the mannequin and placed it in the changing room and then half-a-dozen people suddenly came in. Two women were searching for costumes for a play.” She looked at Meg in apology. “It was Private Lives, set in the roaring twenties. You know those twenties clothes, they’re my weakness. So, maybe I gave those two a little extra attention. Anyway, I closed up for the night and I didn’t even notice the dress was gone. It was Joe who noticed.”

  Meg turned to Joe, anxiety pulling at her, mutely asking for an explanation.

  “When I got to the store this morning, the mannequin in the window was naked. I assumed the dress somehow got left in the fitting room, but the gown was gone.”

  “Do you remember what the woman looked like?” she asked Janet.

  “No. Not really. I served a lot of customers yesterday. I can't remember each one.”

  “Did she say anything? Did she give any indication as to when she was getting married or why she wanted the dress?”

  “No. But she left a note in the change room. It said, ‘I’m taking back the dress. It's mine.’”

  This was the strangest theft Meg had ever heard of. “What kind of thief leaves a note?”

  “I know.” Janet looked as heartbroken as she felt. She’d pretty much let slip how much that dress meant. “None of us can figure it out. The thief only took one thing.”

  She mulled over the strange note. “Could it be the woman who brought the dress here in the first place?”

  “That's what Dylan thinks,” Joe said.

  “But then why wouldn't she just ask for it back? Why go to all the trouble of stealing it? She probably waited until you and Dylan weren’t in the store, since you both knew what she looked like.”

  Joe shook her head. “Everyone who puts something on consignment signs a contract. We hold on to the merchandise for at least thirty days. That's the agreement. And, she had to know, that if she asked for it back I would have refused. We've invested advertising money into the dress and that has been bringing in a lot of customers. Plus,” her face softened, “that dress was yours.”

  “And now it's gone,” she wailed. She felt the way she had the time her family got a brand-new puppy and it ran away from home. She’d been so in love with that dog. She remembered the aching sense of loss and tragedy that had engulfed her. Luckily, they recovered Trixie within two days and the dog had been a valued member of their family until she died fifteen years later.

  The wedding gown had to be like Trixie. They had to get it back.

  She read enough thrillers and mysteries and crime dramas in her job that she was pretty savvy about investigating. She said, “What we need is the original contract of the woman who brought in the dress.”

  “Right, she's right,” Dylan agreed.

  Joe looked from one to the other. “What are you planning to do?”

  He moved to stand beside Meg. He put an arm around her shoulders. “We’re going after that d
ress.”

  Chapter 14

  Dylan pushed some keys on the computer. “Here it is. Her name is Tasmine Ford. She lives in Venice Beach.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  He printed the contact information off the computer and then looked at her with some concern. “What exactly is our plan?”

  Even if she knew on some level that she wasn't being entirely rational, Meg had to get that dress back. She said, “Who knows why she took it back. Maybe she’s selling it privately. I need to talk to her. I need to tell her that the dress is mine.”

  She saw the other three exchange glances but she chose to ignore them. She’d worry about looking crazy later: for now, she had a wedding gown to trace.

  Joe had never mentioned Meg’s supposed engagement and seemed quite happy to have her dating her son, so Meg assumed Dylan had told her that Meg had been single all along. She seemed to have taken the news okay, but Meg didn’t want to do too many more irrational things. She wanted Joe to believe she was good for Dylan, not some flake who went crazy for a dress she had no business buying.

  She began to pace. “We could drive to her place. That gives us the element of surprise.”

  He nodded. “Or, we could phone her. Which has the element of being more reasonable and not wasting our time if she gave it away to somebody else.”

  “No. If she was going to be reasonable she would have talked to Joe, or Janet, or you about taking the dress back. She wouldn't have stolen it.”

  “You're right. This wasn't the action of a reasonable person.” Like chasing after it was.

  He glanced at his phone to check the time. “I need to finish up what I’m working on. She’s probably at work now, anyway. What if I pick you up after work?”

  “Whatever you want.”