Always the Designer, Never the Bride

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Always the Designer, Never the Bride Page 4

by Sandra D. Bricker


  "Audrey, you do realize that there's probably a snowball's chance in a sauna that anyone is going to live up to the expectations this girl has, right? It's not even possible to please her!"

  "She has a twenty thousand dollar-budget for her dress, Kat. She's got every media network in the country lining up to get photographs of her wedding day. The exposure alone could . . . Kat, it's the perfect storm for my circumstances. Dressing Kim Renfroe on her wedding day could solve all of my immediate problems."

  "Audrey. I don't know."

  "Call her and tell her to book a flight. I'll make hotel reservations at The Tanglewood for both of you. Get here as early as you can tomorrow, and have her come in the day after."

  "You're sure?"

  "Look, Kat. I'm hanging by a thread here. I have to take this one last shot. I haven't wanted to say this to you, but—"

  "Audrey, I know."

  She gulped around the lump in her throat. "You do?"

  "I handle every piece of business on your plate. You think I haven't noticed that you're overextended?" Audrey nibbled the corner of her bottom lip without reply. "What about Carly?"

  "Leave Carly to me. You just get Kim on that plane." She started to end the call, then caught herself. "Oh! Wait. And bring something fifties for us each to wear, will you?"

  "Fifties?"

  "Yeah, you know. Pink ladies and sock hops. We have to go to a fifties diner place tomorrow night for Carly and Devon. Everyone wears a costume, and I didn't pack anything for it."

  "Fun!" Kat exclaimed, but Audrey just groaned and folded the cell phone shut.

  She'd barely disconnected the call when she noticed J. R. standing at the end of the hall, and she jumped. "Oh, good grief. You scared me half to death."

  "Sorry," he said, nervously tugging at the cuff of his longsleeved T-shirt bearing a Harley-Davidson logo. "I didn't want to interrupt. Is everything all right?"

  "No, actually," she admitted as she tucked the cell phone back into her pocket. "But I'm hoping for a reprieve."

  "Anything I can do?"

  "Afraid not, unless you have some influence over Kim Renfroe."

  "The hotel magnate's daughter?"

  The way he narrowed his eyes and looked at her as if she'd lost her mind made Audrey wonder for a moment if she actually had.

  "Yes. Never mind. Anyway, I didn't know you would be here tonight."

  "I'm staying here at the house with my brother while you and Carly play up the bride-to-be angle over at The Tanglewood."

  "Oh." Why hadn't she thought about that? "Of course."

  "Carly has dinner just about ready."

  "Okay. I'll be out in a minute."

  He was doing it again. Just standing there, looking at her.

  Audrey sighed. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to do that?" she asked him spontaneously.

  "Do what?"

  "Gawk at a woman like you've never seen one before. It's quite unnerving."

  "I don't think I was gawking exactly."

  "Well, your thinking is all wrong then. Because you are. You did it at lunch, and now you're standing there doing it again. Cut it out."

  J. R. shook his head slightly, and the corner of his mouth twitched as if flexing hard to hold back laughter. And he didn't move a muscle to get out of her way, or to stop the gawking either.

  "Do you mind?"

  And with that, he simply raised a hand in surrender, heaved a sigh, and turned away. At the end of the hall, he turned back toward her for a moment.

  "I'll be there in just a minute," she snapped.

  "Fine."

  "Fine."

  "Okay."

  "Okay.

  "Aud?"

  Audrey glanced up from her sketch pad to find Carly standing in the middle of the arched doorway leading to the bedroom of the hotel suite.

  "What are you doing? Can't you sleep?"

  "No. I had a surge of adrenaline shoot through me, and I had to come out here and try to get some of my thoughts down on paper."

  Carly padded across the thick carpet toward her. She looked like that eight-year-old Audrey used to know with her hair twisted into a messy ponytail at the top of her head and wearing pink cotton pajamas with large red strawberries all over them.

  "Is that for her?" she asked, peering over her shoulder at the sketch pad. "For Kim Renfroe?"

  "I'm trying to give her some more options," she replied, dotting the skirt of the gown on the page before her. "She told Kat she likes the classic style of your dress, but she made it clear from the beginning that she insists on a lot of bling."

  "Contradict much?"

  Audrey chuckled. "Listen, I'm really sorry about cutting dinner so short earlier."

  "No worries. But you know . . . I still can't believe Kim Renfroe is coming to my wedding. Isn't that weird?"

  "Well, she doesn't have to come to the wedding, Carly. She just wants to see you in your gown. We can do that before you walk down the aisle."

  "I don't mind if she comes to the wedding. It's kind of funny, that's all."

  Audrey continued to put the finishing touches on the sketch, her eyes burning with the desire for sleep.

  "Come on back to bed."

  Carly extended her hand toward Audrey and just stood there until she took it. She led her friend across the sitting room and into the bedroom, releasing her hand and crawling across the length of the king-sized bed, collapsing into the pile of fluffy bright-white pillows on her side of it.

  "C'mon," she said, patting the mattress beside her. "I'll tell you a story like I used to when we were kids. Remember that?"

  Audrey nodded and climbed up into the bed. "You would walk me through Barbie and Ken's upcoming wedding in minute detail, from the fabric draping to the candles and flowers." Yawning, she added, "You've always had such a great sense of style, Caroline. Very imaginative."

  "That's what makes me a perfect kindergarten teacher, right?"

  She nodded sleepily. "Mm-hm."

  "One of my students is just like I was at that age. Her name is Courtney, and she makes stages out of cardboard boxes, covering them in fabric or contact paper. She draws little designs on them and uses her dolls to act out these really involved little plays for the kids in the class—"

  And as Carly chattered on, the sound of her voice sang Audrey into a lyrical sort of peace. Her words began to swirl and run into one another until nothing but blessed silence emerged, ushering Audrey downward to full-on sleep as Carly smoothed her hair and talked softly.

  "I'd forgotten how you never sleep," her friend halfwhispered. And those were the last words Audrey heard.

  When she awoke, the other side of the massive bed sat empty. A bright ray of sunshine poked through the window like stretched-out fingers, pointing out a spot in the middle of the bedroom floor. Audrey surveyed her surroundings as a chorus of birds tweeted out a happy morning greeting from beyond the glass. The blue Atlanta sky grinned at her, slowmoving cottonball clouds shifting across it, and the fragrance of brewing coffee perked up her nostrils and drew her to her feet and into the living room.

  "Good morning!"

  She rubbed her eyes. "Kat?"

  "Yes, Kat. Gee, how soon they forget."

  "What time is it?"

  "Ten-thirty," she replied. "Whatever Atlanta has in the water to get you to sleep longer than five hours, we need to bottle some and take it home with us."

  "How long have you been here?" she asked, accepting the mug of creamed coffee her assistant offered.

  "Not long. My flight arrived at 8:50, and Carly answered your cell when I called. Oh, and she told me to tell you not to worry about the spa thing this morning. She's going, and you should stay here so we can work. But—" Kat squinted her eyes as she recalled Carly's exact words. "—don't think you're getting out of the Jack-and-Jill because you're not."

  Audrey chuckled.

  "What's a Jack-and-Jill?"

  "I guess it's a party or something. Like half bachelor and half bachel
orette."

  "Oh. Right."

  "You're invited, by the way. Did I tell you that?"

  "Yes. Wait until you see the dress I brought—"

  "I'm sure it will be a barrel of laughs, but let's get down to business. When does Kim arrive?"

  "Tomorrow afternoon at 1:45."

  Still in her pajamas at 2:15 that afternoon, Audrey finally came up for air. Thankful for the sudden burst of inspiration, she'd tweaked the sketch from the night before and created two more possibilities.

  "I have my emergency kit with me," she told Kat, midstretch. "I can use a few beads from that and—"

  "You know what's an even better idea?" Kat interrupted. "If you get a shower and I order some food."

  Audrey cringed. "Room service is so expensive."

  "Then I'll go out and pick something up. You need to shower and get dressed before your friend comes back."

  "Oh. Carly. I forgot."

  "Your best friend. Her wedding. The reason you're here in Atlanta."

  "I guess."

  "Now, come on." Kat took her by the arm and dragged Audrey to her feet. "Do I have to start the water running too?"

  "No, no," she growled. "I'm going."

  "Good. I'll find a place nearby and bring sustenance."

  Audrey glanced back at the loose sketches scattered on the table. "But let me just toss this last one," she said, heading straight for it. "It's not good enough."

  "You'll shower, get dressed, have something to eat, and then you'll come back to it and decide," Kat instructed, nudging her back to her path toward the bedroom. "Now, go on."

  Once again, no argument. Kat was right, as usual.

  Audrey hated when that happened.

  Top Three Trends in Today's Celebrity Weddings

  1.The Destination Wedding

  Celebrities just love tying the knot in a faraway, exotic

  locale. But for the non-celebrity, a destination wedding

  can be a glamorous and economical compromise. Fewer

  guests means less outlay of cash for wedding staples such

  as flowers and food.

  2. The Glam Squad

  No celebrity bride shows her face down the aisle without first

  surrendering to the skills of a top-notch team of make-up

  artists, hairstylists, and mani/pedi specialists. Brides every-

  where have jumped on the bandwagon, often setting aside

  several hours before the wedding for a complete makeover.

  3. The Green Wedding

  Every good celebrity adopts a "green" way of thinking; if

  not to save the planet then certainly as a PR statement!

  Items such as invitations on recycled paper, proceeds

  geared toward their favorite earth-friendly charity included

  on the bridal registry, and even organic centerpieces

  make an effective "Goin' Green!" statement on behalf

  of every bride and groom.

  3

  Carly squealed when Kat walked into the hotel room. "You look magnificent!"

  Kat struck a pose in the doorway. She wore shiny black flats and a black and white checkered dress with a pale pink satin sash, tied into a large bow at the front. A pink rhinestone bow shimmered on her shoulder, and a thick satin headband pushed her dark curls away from her face. Kat looked like someone straight out of American Grafitti.

  "Where did you ever get that skirt?" Carly asked Audrey, running a finger around the top of the black sequin poodle appliqued to her violet skirt. "It's fabulous."

  "Audrey's all about the vintage shops," Kat told her. "She actually had that whole outfit in her closet already! I just packed it up and brought it along for her."

  Audrey fussed with the layered petticoat under the skirt and straightened the pink angora sweater with the pretty rhinestone buttons while Kat wrapped a thick purple ribbon around her bouncy ponytail.

  "This is going to be so much fun!" Carly announced to them. "I can't wait for the boys to get here."

  Right on cue came a rat-a-tat knock at the door.

  Devon's soldier haircut fit right in with his plaid shortsleeved shirt and straight-leg jeans, rolled up at the ankles to reveal white socks worn with leather loafers.

  "My little fifties nerd," Carly said with a giggle, and Devon yanked up the waist of his jeans with a snort. "Where's J. R.?"

  "He's meeting us there." Devon paused for a moment before adding, "He's bringing Russell."

  Carly's face contorted. "When did he blow into town?"

  "Couple hours ago."

  She frowned at Audrey. "You'll get to meet the infamous Russell Walker."

  Kat launched out of her chair like a rocket. "What? What did you say?"

  "Devon's brother is best buddies with Russell Walker," Carly informed her dryly. "So we get him by default."

  "He's not one of Carly's favorite people," Devon explained.

  "I think he's dreamy," Kat replied. Looking to Audrey for agreement, she added, "Isn't he dreamy, Audrey?"

  "I've only seen one of his movies, and I don't really get it."

  "How could you not get it? He's dreamy!"

  "All right."

  Audrey lifted one shoulder into half a shrug as she refocused her attention on applying a thin layer of Scarlet Kiss to her lips with a small brush.

  "You chicks look like the cat's meow," Devon told them. "Let's scram."

  Audrey glanced at Carly and Kat, apparently charmed by Devon's foray into fifties characterization. She wondered what was next, but she hoped it included a root beer float.

  When they reached the lobby doors, Devon turned to Carly and beamed.

  "What, sweetie?"

  "I've got a surprise for you," he told her, leading her outside.

  By the time Audrey followed the others through the door, Carly was already squealing, hopping from one foot to the other, her saddle shoes thumping on the concrete. Devon rushed forward and swung open the passenger door of a vintage convertible in the most terrible shade of aqua.

  "It's a 1958 Chevy Impala," he announced as he rounded the car, leaving Audrey and Kat standing there. With a smile, he flipped up the seat behind the steering wheel and waved his hand. "C'mon, ladies. Your ride awaits!"

  Kat blew past her and climbed into the car. "Audrey. Come on!"

  Once she joined them, Devon slid in and turned the key. Dion crooned "Runaround Sue" from an oldies station on the radio. Devon had thought of everything to make the night special for his wife . . . err, fiancée . . . and the grin of sheer bliss on Carly's face told Audrey that he'd succeeded.

  Pink and blue neon tube lighting welcomed them to Happy Days, promising Burgers, Shakes & Pins, and a valet in a bow tie and white paper hat appeared delighted to take the Chevy off their hands.

  "Your friends are so fun!" Kat exclaimed as she skated across the gleaming wood floor behind Carly.

  Emma gave Audrey a hug while Carly made the immediate introductions by pointing a finger frosted in pink at each person. "Emma, Jackson, Sherilyn, Andy, Fee, Sean, Audrey, Kat." And with that, Devon yanked her away toward the dance floor to join half a dozen other couples jitterbugging to "Rock Around the Clock."

  Sherilyn suddenly shrieked and broke away from them, straight out the front door of the diner, leaving her husband standing behind her, shaking his head.

  "What's going on?" Audrey asked.

  "It's got to be Russell," Andy replied with a laugh. "Heaven knows none of us mortals elicit that response out of her."

  Sure enough, Audrey saw Sherilyn jump into the arms of actor Russell Walker, the picture of a fifties beatnik with his shaggy blond hair pulled into a tight ponytail, wearing a black turtleneck and faded black jeans. Beyond the reunited friends, she spotted J. R. conversing with the valet, motioning with the hand gripping his helmet toward the two large motorcycles parked on the other side of the valet desk.

  He looked almost the same as he had at dinner the night prior, except for the Fonzarelli
'do he sported. Leather jacket over black T-shirt, form-fitting Levis and slightly scuffed boots; a perfect fit for a theme party like this one, she supposed. So why did her pulse begin to race when he headed through the front door?

  "Everybody!" Sherilyn exclaimed as she followed him, arm-in-arm with Russell Walker. "Look who's here!"

  "Crikey!" he remarked in his trademark Austrailian accent. "The gang's all here, hey?" He greeted all of Sherilyn's friends before turning to Audrey and Kat. "Ah, fresh faces," he said, extending his hand toward Kat. "Russell Walker."

  "Katarina Ivanov," she managed, if somewhat breathless.

  "Ivanov. Great Aussie name, isn't it?"

  Kat giggled, and Audrey turned toward her slowly. Kat was . . . giggling?

  "Gwen Stefani, I presume," he stated, taking Audrey off guard.

  "Pardon?"

  "J. R. said you looked a bit like Gwen Stefani."

  "He did?"

  At just that moment, J. R. walked up behind them, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

  "You think I look like Gwen Stefani?"

  He and Russell shared a lingering scowl, and J. R. tapped his friend in the gut. "That's a new record, Walker. Dragging me into the mud in, what, forty seconds?"

  "My work here is done," Russell cracked before turning back to Kat. "Katarina, will you join me in The Stroll?"

  "P-pardon?"

  He nodded toward the dance floor where the couples formed two lines and tapped their feet at the opening of the Mary Wells song, "My Guy."

  "Really?"

  "Ever so."

  "Well . . . Heck, yeah!" she cried, taking him by the hand and dragging him off behind her.

  Audrey watched them for a minute, grinning, and J. R. stepped up beside her.

  "She used to be shy and retiring, right?" he commented.

  "Not exactly. But Russell Walker seems to bring out the giddy schoolgirl in her." Audrey glanced at Sherilyn and chuckled. "And in Sherilyn."

  J. R. blurted out one hard laugh. "You said it, sister. Russell says she gets him. She's the sister he never had."

  "Speaking of sisters," she said, still focused on Kat out there on the dance floor, "I hope you know how blessed you are to get Caroline. Again."

 

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