by Lynn Galli
Savannah frowned. “Whoever heard of three different colors for bridesmaid dresses?”
“We’re matching the Baird tartan,” Dallas said.
“What’s a Baird?”
“We are.” Ainsley tilted her thumb to indicate her mother. “Colin is.”
“Only half. He’s a Pruitt.” Colin’s stepmom probably thought she was being helpful but should have kept quiet. About twenty years younger than Colin’s dad, she had no relationship with Colin other than a polite tolerance of each other since she’d wed his father six years ago.
“So we have to suffer because of some outdated plaid material?” Savannah pulled at the bodice of her dress. The whole point of tonight’s visit was to get them fitted. I’d already done mine last week. Savannah’s dress needed to be taken in everywhere, which was the reason for her hissy fit. She was still single and hoping to meet one of the other on-air personalities from our network.
“It’s not outdated,” Ainsley informed her calmly. “Every Scot takes great pride in his or her clan. I think it’s wonderful that you’ll be wearing the colors. It’ll match Colin’s waistcoat and kilt.”
“She’s kidding, right?” Denver poked her head into Dallas’s dressing room.
“She’s not,” was the reply. “He’ll wear it for pictures and for a dance. Then he’s putting pants back on.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Elspeth teased. “I find men in kilts quite sexy.”
“Mum,” Ainsley hushed her before the sensitive topic flared another scene.
“That still doesn’t explain why I’m the one in purple?”
“For God’s sake,” Dallas said now completely exasperated. “Skye has red hair if you haven’t noticed.” Everyone’s eyes turned to my hair, which I was still partially hiding with a hat out of habit. “Purple doesn’t go with red. Denver’s got hazel green eyes so the green works best for her. You look good in any color, so shut your face and deal with the purple.” She stepped out of the dressing room in a sleek strapless wedding gown that was exactly right for her. Everyone was too stunned by the vision before us to follow Dallas’s logic.
“Oh, sis, that’s so pretty,” Denver said, her eyes getting misty.
“Killer,” Savannah said, reaching out to run her fingers over the bodice.
“You look a dream, pet,” Elspeth told her.
“Thank you.” Dallas gave a twirl to show us the back of the dress. The fitter flitted left and right, front and back, putting a pin or two in discrete places.
“It’s almost perfect,” the fitter said. “Shall we try the other one?”
“Why are you getting two wedding dresses?” Savannah’s tone went back to a whine.
“Because,” Dallas said again as she stepped back into the fitting area.
Savannah turned to Ainsley. “You aren’t going to wear a tux, are you? It’s weird enough that he’s got a woman as his best man. A woman in a tux would just take it over the top for me.”
“What is up your ass, Detroit?” Denver bit back at her.
“I hate purple.”
“I think it highlights your pretty brown eyes, lass,” Elspeth complimented.
Savannah preened in front of the mirror before she realized we were all staring at her. That’s when I spotted the insecurities. She was worried she wouldn’t look good, especially compared to her TV anchor sister. She knew the photos would eventually be published somewhere, and she didn’t want to be the odd one out. Well, she could rest assured. It wasn’t like I was a model. No one was when compared to Dallas, but I could see the worry in that she’d be compared to her sister. As her best friend, I would not.
“And once she takes in your dress, it’s going to look fab,” Ainsley encouraged.
“Are you wearing a tux?”
Ainsley smiled and winked at her. “Wait and see.”
“Come on,” Savannah groaned.
“What is your mom wearing, Dallas?” Colin’s stepmom asked after looking up from her phone for only the second time tonight.
“Probably a black dress.”
“Definitely black, she’s got a million of them,” Denver confirmed, trying the top of the dress in a different position to change the look. I would be letting it drape partially over one shoulder. It looked like Denver would go with a halter top. Savannah still couldn’t get over the purple.
“Maybe I should get her number so we can coordinate. We’re the mothers of the bride and groom, after all.”
I felt Ainsley and Elspeth stiffen on each side of me. My eyes shot to the other couch where Colin’s stepmom took up space like she was actually someone to Colin. I stood from my seat. “Rochelle, could I speak with you for a moment, please?”
She looked bothered by the suggestion but followed me out to the front reception area. A young woman and her mother stood hopeful by the desk trying to get an appointment. I gestured to a private corner and turned to face Rochelle.
“While I’m sure Dallas appreciates that you’re here showing support, I’d ask that you be a little more sensitive to your surroundings.”
Light blue eyes glinted in suspicion. “What are you talking about?”
“You are not Colin’s mother. She passed away when he was ten. Colin’s aunt Elspeth, the woman you’ve barely said two words to all night, helped raise Colin each summer. She has loved him and cared for him all his life as her sister would have wanted. If anyone is Colin’s mom, it would be Elspeth. So, please, have a care with how you label your role. You’re married to his dad; that’s it.”
Anger pinched her features. “You don’t have any right to talk to me that way.”
“I’m the MOH. It’s my job to make sure things go smoothly so Dallas can have her perfect day. And I care for that woman you just insulted by calling yourself Colin’s mom. So, I’ll ask again. Please be aware of the people around you and try to be sensitive to everyone’s place in Colin’s life.”
“Then you should be doing a better job putting a gag on those two spoiled sisters.” Her fingers slashed toward the changing room.
“Dallas and her sisters have a relationship that works for them. They bicker every time they breathe. It doesn’t mean they love each other any less.”
“Well, I think—”
I held up a hand to cut her off. “I think your husband went off to the tux shop with his son and you were feeling left out, so you decided to go along with us when maybe you should have stayed home. What do you think? There’s no doubt a pointless Bravo reality TV marathon that you’d rather be watching, isn’t there?”
She huffed audibly. “I don’t need to stand here for this.”
I sighed and let my anger flood away. “I don’t mean to sound insulting, but we’re all a little stressed right now. I’m sure you understand.”
“Right,” she murmured then turned to leave. “It’s not like I was suggesting her mother and I wear the same thing. I just wanted to see what she was wearing.”
“I’m sure whatever you choose will be fine.” Although based on the brash gold jewelry and tight hooker-like dress, I wasn’t all that sure.
“Tell Dallas I had some pressing business to attend to.” She barely finished speaking before she slipped out the door.
I should have felt bad that I’d ripped into her, but she was an unnecessary addition to an already incendiary situation. I turned to go back to the fitting area and found Ainsley watching me. Her eyes shifted to the front window and Rochelle’s retreat. A moment later, she closed the distance between us and reached to cup my face. Before I knew what was happening she was leaning forward to kiss my cheek.
“Thank you for that.” Her whisper brushed against my face. “Mum was getting weepy.”
“You’re welcome.”
She stepped back and avoided looking directly at me. “Dallas made the right decision with you.”
She was surprising me left and right this week. It was almost like we were getting to be friends. That thought left me a little dazed, so I smiled and led h
er back to the fitting room. I didn’t allow myself to attribute some of the haziness to the lingering effect of her kiss on my cheek.
Twenty-Seven
Everyone else had the same idea. It meant pushing my way through other show producers to get to the front of the set just behind the cameras. The show runner looked over and smiled with relief when she saw me take up the space that several others had been vying for.
Dallas was taking a seat at the anchor desk on set. She set her script down and glanced up, spotting me among the throng of people. Her smile flared as it always did when she found me watching her show. I’d rarely missed a taping since she joined the network eight years ago.
Colin appeared at the soundstage doors. He received high fives from every crew member he passed. That was his preshow ritual. He placed a hand on Dallas’s shoulder. She glanced up and smiled at him. They did have unmatched on-air comradery. Among the hundreds of news hour magazine or interview type shows, their harmony set them apart. They led their hour in ratings among cable networks.
Once the show started, it went by in a blur. They taped segments from the desk and their interview set, introducing their prerecorded interviews from South America intermixed with in-studio political analysts. After editing tomorrow, this would be the most explosive show our network had ever put on the airwaves.
“Congratulations.” I stepped up onto the set after they’d signed off and gotten kudos from everyone else. “Great show.”
“Think so?” Dallas asked. “It felt right. My contact with the DEA told me they’re serving warrants now. We’ve taped two narratives for the ending voiceover. If they get him in custody, this could be the best show ever.”
“And you’ll be the main reason that happens. You both should be so proud of yourselves.”
“It feels pretty damn good,” Colin agreed, looping his arm around Dallas’s shoulders. “Are you ready for tonight, babe?” Dallas hid her shudder pretty well, but Colin caught it and rolled his eyes. “It’s just dinner.”
“With a hundred Scottish people that all speak too quickly for me to understand anything.”
“Sixty Scottish people and they’ve been warned to refrain from teasing the American.”
“You’re just as American as me, bub.” She poked his side.
“If I hadn’t spent every summer there, I’d be as lost as you with some of the inflections.”
Dallas looked at me. “Are we picking you up or are you meeting us there?”
I pulled back, frowning. “I’m not going. This is Colin’s family dinner night. I’ll be at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night.”
“You can’t abandon me to this.” She looked stricken. “You don’t have any trouble understanding their accents.”
“I’m not in Colin’s family. You’re not bringing your sisters or mom, so you’re not bringing me.”
“You’d be welcome, Skye,” Colin offered graciously, but I could see he agreed with me. It would be weird to show up with his bride-to-be and her best friend to meet his whole family.
“I’m looking forward to a quiet evening.”
“Not all quiet,” Dallas reminded me.
“Don’t worry. I’ll have all the guest gifts set out so we can get those done tomorrow before the rehearsal dinner.”
“You sure you don’t mind?” Dallas asked again. She knew my answer before I said it, but she asked anyway because after going through the list of everything we’d done while they were gone, she really appreciated how much work we took off their hands.
“I don’t mind.” Three and a half weeks ago I would have been lying when I said that. Knowing how much work weddings were, I was happy to help if it meant taking the stress from my friend.
“I’m excited to get my hands into something other than dress fittings. I almost strangled Detroit last night.”
I laughed. “You were so preoccupied dealing with her you didn’t have time to be concerned about the tiny alterations your dress still needs.”
“You’re not trying to tell me that Savannah acted like that on purpose to distract me?”
I shrugged, wanting to think the best of her sisters. It was possible that it started out that way, but she did sound pretty serious about not liking the purple. “Let’s hope she was. Did you finish the seating chart?”
“Last night,” Colin said.
“Are you printing the name cards or writing them?”
“We started to write them, but realized it was way too cumbersome. I can’t believe I made you address all the invitations by hand.”
“Half of them were just names on envelopes to hand deliver. We split the rest. It wasn’t horrible, but I don’t ever want to do that again. Good thing I’m never getting married.”
“You say that now, but when you fall in love, you’ll be totally gone,” Dallas said as if it were the wisest thing she’d said today. “You’re that kind of person. I can tell.”
“If I didn’t have four meetings lined up later I’d have the energy to debate you on that.”
“You’ll see I’m right. And when we get back from the honeymoon, I’ll have a lot of time on my hands to convert you.”
“Dream big, sister.” I retreated before she went on with her crazy idea.
Twenty-Eight
As far as bachelorette parties went, this seemed pretty typical. The only thing missing were strippers. We’d had dinner in a private room at one of the nicest restaurants in town. Stopped off at the trendiest bar where everyone managed to get sloshed on only two drinks. Then we moved on to my part of the party, a competitive scavenger hunt. First Prize was nothing more than a gift certificate to a designer bag shop, but these women were hunting like I was giving away the whole store.
They’d taken up in teams of two and were scouring the city to find the clues I’d paid three interns on staff to hide. I was sticking with Dallas’s team, but it was proving to be difficult because she kept asking for hints. Her partner, Hope, host of her own political talk show, was just as adamant about staying ahead of the pack as Dallas was. The clues were given out randomly to prevent cheating. We’d crossed paths with Dallas’s sisters as well as Morgan, and her partner, Karla, the associate producer on Dallas’s show. I’d thought the point of these parties was to make the bride Queen for the Day. Instead, these women were seriously trying to win that prize and swipe victory from Dallas’s clutches. Not that she needed a gift certificate. She probably owned all of the designer’s bags already, but she should be the winner at her own party.
“Aha!” Hope exclaimed as if she were part of a Victorian detective novel. She pointed to the key phrase from the last clue.
Dallas’s eyes widened and they took off to the nearest Metro station, not even waiting to see if I was following. It was the last clue, and I was hoping they’d be the first to find it. Dallas deserved to win this game.
At Union Station, they practically shoved people out of the way to get upstairs. I glanced behind me and found her sisters getting off the same train, one car back. “Your sisters!” I yelled ahead of the two people that had slipped between me and Dallas.
She looked back, eyes wide and searching. Her hand reached out to grab Hope and yank her up the stairs two at a time. I swerved around the couple in front of me to follow and watch the photo finish.
Seconds after Dallas and Hope got up the stairs, her sisters appeared at the top of the other stairwell. Dread filled my stomach knowing that her sisters were twenty feet closer to the clue than Dallas. Savannah disagreed with Denver over which potted plant held the icon. They hadn’t seen Dallas yet even with a few people calling out both Dallas and Hope’s names. Then as if some divine power intervened, Denver allowed Savannah to lead her over to the potted plant next to the stairwell we’d just taken. They did a double take when they noticed me standing there smiling brightly. It didn’t stop them from searching around the plant, moving the pot, and lifting it to try to find the treasure. When nothing came from their search, they found me again with questio
n in their eyes. My smile hadn’t faded as I pointed to Dallas and Hope doing a victory dance next to the right plant.
“That was the most fun I’ve had in ages,” Dallas said when the other teams had caught up.
“If you think that’s fun, wait till we’re at the next place.” Denver beamed at her.
Dallas looked from me to them and back to question me. I shrugged and smiled. Denver had asked if she and her sister could plan part of the bachelorette party. It seemed only right that they get to do something special for their sister.
We got into cabs in front of Union Station and made our way over to the hotel where Denver and Savannah were staying. I wasn’t sure what we were doing, but at this point, I’d turned the evening over to the sisters. Whatever we did from now on was on them.
Balloons and streamers filled Savannah’s suite. Champagne and strawberries were laid out on the dining room table. “We’re going to unwind before heading out to our next adventure.” She went over to the stereo and clicked on the music as everyone dropped into seats.
Dallas stories were swapped through the first and second rounds of champagne. It was fun to listen to embarrassing stories about my best friend from when she was younger. Denver was a pretty good storyteller.
A knock sounded at the door. I gauged the sound level and hoped it wasn’t hotel security telling us to quiet it down. Savannah hurried to the door and let in two security guys. They entered with stern expressions that said we were going to be shut down. I hoped whatever Savannah had planned next could start now instead of us casting about for something to do until her planned event.
Denver and Dallas stood beside Savannah facing the men. They didn’t stand a chance against this trio of sisters. We were warned to keep it down. While Denver agreed, Savannah for some reason started talking back. I instinctively took a step forward ready to calm the situation if needed. That seemed to be my job description these days.
Before I could intervene, the tallest security guard got right up in Savannah’s face and proceeded to rip his blazer off and gyrate his hips. When the other guy did the same thing to Dallas and all the women started squealing, my mouth dropped open. Strippers. Male strippers. Peachy. I guess I should have asked Dallas if she wanted cliché strippers for her party. I thought I knew her pretty well and strippers weren’t really her thing.