She exchanged a rapid-fire glance with Jill. Sorry, Jill’s expression said.
Greer turned. Once again, Wesley and Serena were coming toward her, hand in hand. They’d changed clothes. She couldn’t help wondering if they’d fooled around back at their hotel or wherever they were staying when they’d changed (and probably showered, after the humid, hot day they’d had). It was tacky and rude of her to wonder, but some imp on her shoulder goaded her.
She wasn’t at all jealous that Serena and Wesley were no doubt spending time together between the sheets. Looking at him, it was hard to believe she’d ever been intimate with him, not just in the back of his truck and in his parents’ guesthouse but in general. She couldn’t imagine leaning on him now, gazing into his eyes, and laughing. Brushing the hair out of his face. Kissing him.
Now that she was older and more confident, Wesley wasn’t the type of lover she craved. She wasn’t quite sure who her ideal lover would be, but she was ready to find out.
They made some quick small talk. She introduced Jill.
“How about going bar-hopping with us?” Serena asked.
“We could catch up on Waterloo news,” Wesley said to Greer.
Greer thought as fast as she could … she had to come up with an excuse not to go.
Jill put her arm through hers. “I wish we could go, but we already have a commitment down the street. A trunk show I promised to attend at a little boutique a friend of mine owns. Free champagne. It’s actually the annual Spring Stroll shopping tour.”
“That’s right,” Greer said, so relieved. “Sorry.”
Wesley’s hopeful expression dropped.
“Sounds fun,” Serena said. “Maybe afterward you can join us.”
“We can always try,” Greer said.
“We’ll be hanging out pretty late tonight,” said Wesley. “We don’t have any appointments until noon tomorrow.”
“Great,” said Jill.
Not great, thought Greer.
That closeness she’d had with Wesley seemed like it had happened in a different lifetime to another person. And that was okay, except that part of her felt sad … as if her time with him had been a waste. What had it done for her? Did it mean anything?
Maybe someday she’d figure it out, but these days she was content in Charleston. Sure, she was starting from scratch, and it was exciting and scary, both personally and professionally. Nor was it perfect. But it was so much more her.
They said their good-byes once again—it was a very light one on Serena’s part because the understanding was that surely they’d run into each other later that evening—and Greer and Jill took off in the opposite direction from the lovebirds.
“Is there really a trunk show?” Greer said low when they were fifty feet away from Carmella’s.
“Yes,” said Jill. “Let’s check it out. It’s actually part of a shopping round robin downtown. Five other boutiques are participating. They’re all serving wine and snacks until nine tonight.”
“Great.” She paused. “Maybe. I hope one of them isn’t La Di Da.”
“It is. The ad was in the paper.” Jill named all the shops involved. “Why?”
Greer shrugged. “Oh, nothing. I’m just not crazy about Pierre.”
“You know him?”
“I do.” She wouldn’t tell her he’d been a client of Two Love Lane. That was confidential.
“I went in there once,” said Jill, “and it was like he was king of Charleston. All these out-of-town customers were fawning over him.”
“Yep. He laps it up.”
“Well, I’m not planning on going around to all of them. Just this first boutique. They have some new late-season swimwear I want to see.”
“Sounds good to me.”
They crossed East Bay Street and were preparing to go down Cumberland when a cry of “Greer! Jill!” rang behind them.
For Greer, hearing that voice was like being taken back to her days on the farm, when a particularly naughty goose named Matilda would sneak up behind her and honk, sending her straight up into the air.
“Good God,” whispered Jill. “That was loud.”
Serena waved and smiled and walked briskly toward them. “Guess who Wesley and I ran into?” she said when she got close.
“Who?” Greer asked, knowing full well. Who else did Serena, Wesley, and Greer have in common apart from Ford?
“Ford,” Serena said, and grinned. “He was sitting across the street from Carmella’s, about half a block down, smoking a cigar on the sidewalk with some other guys. Wesley wanted to join them, so I said I’d catch up with you, if that’s all right, and we can all meet later.”
Thunk, went Greer’s stomach. She didn’t want sweet, kind Serena with them. She didn’t want to party with Wesley later, either. But she did want to see Ford.
And part of her didn’t want to see him—the nervous part that wondered if she should have taken a shower before she came out tonight. And if she had known she was staying out, she definitely would have worn something a little nicer.
“Let’s go,” Greer said with a smile. She was such a fake.
Serena skipped forward in her cute little silver flats. “We’ll have fun,” she said, and fell into stride beside Jill.
Greer, in her scuffed white Keds, tried not to believe that she was getting some sort of comeuppance she deserved. But maybe this was what happened when you broke up with someone out of the blue and moved on with your life—or tried to.
“This is going to be great,” Jill said, and Greer could tell she was secretly saying that Greer would be okay.
And she would. She could handle being with Serena, and she’d even have a good time. They turned the corner onto State Street and went down to North Market and found the little boutique. The trunk show had already started. They slid into seats in the back row next to a tray of plastic champagne flutes filled with pink bubbly. Serena sat between Jill and Greer.
“This looks fun,” Serena said. “I’m looking for outfits for my trousseau. We’re going to Paris and then Florence on our honeymoon.”
Ack. “What a great trip,” said Greer.
“Lovely,” murmured Jill, but not in an unfriendly manner. She was focusing on two super-sexy bathing suits the hostess was holding up for everyone to see: little strips of jewel-toned Lycra held together by gold rings.
They were saved from further conversation by a woman coming by. “Here you go,” she whispered, then handed them each a Spring Stroll flyer and put her finger to her lips in the universal shushing sign.
Thank God for that. Greer wouldn’t have to make more small talk. She drank her entire flute of champagne and signaled to Jill to pass her another one. All three of them took a second glass, touched the edges, and mouthed a silent cheers.
Serena was perfectly lovely, drinking and saying nothing, except occasionally oohing and aahing over certain clothes being modeled. It was odd for Greer to see her old engagement ring flash over and over in front of her eyes, but she wasn’t bothered by that so much as curious that Serena didn’t seem to care. Was it actually that Serena cared very much—and was trying to make Greer feel bad? Highly doubtful. Greer was an excellent judge of character. She could recognize a charlatan from a mile away. It was much more likely that Serena was a genuinely humble person who believed in recycling and wasn’t even thinking about the fact that Greer, whom she’d chased down the street to hang out with, was her fiancé’s old flame.
If it was the second scenario, then Serena was a way better person than Greer, and Greer should make her her best friend.
“How about another round?” Greer whispered to Jill. “These flutes are tiny.”
Jill nodded and tried to pass one to Serena, who declined politely. Jill and Greer kept drinking, until Greer’s phone vibrated. She looked down. It was the girls out in L.A.! She made her excuses and crept out the front door to talk out on the sidewalk.
“Hold your horses,” said Ella.
“What?” Greer gri
pped her phone tighter. Her heart was thumping.
“Miss Thing got on TV,” Ella went on, her voice strangely quivering.
“And…?”
“And she won. She won the whole thing.”
“Wait,” said Greer, and started walking in circles. “What are you saying? She won the showcase?”
Ella started laughing. “Yes, but not only that—she’s a double showcase winner. She guessed ninety dollars lower than the actual value of her showcase! So she won both. She’s only the second contestant this year to do that!”
Greer stopped walking. Little tears came to her eyes. “Please, Ella,” she said. “Please tell me she won an RV.”
There was a short pause. “Her angel husband must be watching over her from Heaven,” said Ella. “Greer … she won an RV.”
Greer shrieked.
“And a trip to Spain,” Ella said. “Oh, and some other stuff, like a full set of kitchen appliances. Our Miss Thing hit the jackpot.”
Greer laughed and wiped tears at the same time. “You’re not kidding me?”
“No.” Ella was crying and laughing, too. “Hey, someone’s got to win now and then. I’m just glad it was Miss Thing.”
“Where is she now?”
“She and Macy are in the bathroom at this gas station we stopped at for gas and some Icees.”
“Icees?”
“I don’t know what we’re doing. We’re on a high. Miss Thing got a craving for a Coca-Cola Icee on the way home from the studio. She had to sign a lot of papers before we left. We’re all hungry and tired, but no way are we going to go to sleep tonight. Not for a long time. We’re heading out to Hollywood to have some fun.”
“I’m so glad! I wish I were there!”
“We do, too. That’s one reason I’m calling. Miss Thing told me to tell you she’s already set up an open bar tab at The Rooftop. She wants you to use it. You and any friends you want to invite out. She wants you to blow it out, Greer. Seriously.”
The Rooftop was a popular rooftop bar a few blocks away on the harbor. It had spectacular views of Fort Sumter to the east and the city of Charleston with its church steeples to the west. Sunsets up there were glorious. There was often a stiff breeze since it was a stone’s throw from the Atlantic, and cocktail napkins had to be anchored with a heavy drink.
“I will,” said Greer, “in her honor. And I can’t wait! I’m with your little sister, by the way.”
“Oh, good,” Ella said. “Tell her hello for me. And take pictures.”
“I will. And you do the same. Lots of pictures. Talk to you soon.”
“Wait a sec,” Ella said. “There’s something Miss Thing wants to tell you. She’s grabbing the phone.”
“Hey, darlin’.” Miss Thing sounded like she always did, unruffled and warm as honey on a biscuit.
“I can’t believe it! I’m so proud of you!” Greer said.
“Thank you,” Miss Thing said in her demure way.
“I thought you’d be giddy.”
“I am,” drawled Miss Thing, “but it’s the kind of giddiness that comes when you realize how little we hope for and yet how much is really possible. I feel silly that I’ve walked through life pulling in the reins instead of galloping.”
“Well, you galloped this week in L.A.”
“That I did. And I want you girls to start way younger than I have. So you’d better do something crazy before we come home. You need to have a story to tell us. I don’t want any of you turning fifty like me and having regrets.”
“What did they put in that Icee of yours?” Greer asked.
“Not a damned thing but Coca-Cola,” said Miss Thing. “Don’t try to change the subject.”
“All right.” Greer smiled. Miss Thing was always looking out for them. “Love you, you double showcase winner.”
“Love you, too, sweetie.”
Greer hung up and let herself laugh for a minute. She probably looked like a crazy person, laughing all by herself and not even on the phone. And it had nothing to do with the little buzz she already had from the champagne.
No, she was laughing about life, how strange and wonderful it could be! She was happy that Miss Thing was happy. So off to The Rooftop she would go, with a light heart. Maybe she’d see Ford again. But it could be he wouldn’t want to tag along. She could imagine him telling Wesley and Serena he had other commitments, which would be disappointing. She really didn’t want to hang out with Wesley and Serena without Ford there acting as a buffer, but she couldn’t just make up an excuse and go home. Miss Thing had inspired her to go out and celebrate. How often did friends follow their dreams, crazy as some of those dreams might be? Miss Thing was brave and fun. Greer intended to be the same.
The trifold Spring Stroll flyer from the boutique was stuffed haphazardly in her purse. When she pulled it out to tuck her phone into a side pocket, her eye was caught by a picture on a single leaflet stuffed into it as an afterthought.
And then she gave another little shriek—two in one day!—which was so unlike her. Her arms trembled. She stared and stared at the picture. It was a photo of that morning’s wedding gown Pierre had won at the auction, hanging on a mannequin at La Di Da.
“Oh, my God,” she murmured.
Attention, all future brides on the Spring Stroll! the leaflet said, La Di Da is going into the bridalwear business. Our new bridalwear department, La Di Da Bridal, will premiere this fall. Help celebrate our great news by entering our contest to win this magnificent designer bridal gown with an illustrious royal history and romantic story attached. Entries capped at twenty. First-come, first serve. Sign-ups start at the store tonight … we’re extending our Spring Stroll hours to 11 P.M.! Contest details can be found on the store Web site. Some terms and conditions apply.
Jill poked her head out the door of the boutique. “Are you coming back in?” she said brightly.
Greer tried to pull herself together. “I don’t know,” she said, and merely stood there, the leaflet in her hand.
Jill’s expression changed to concern. “What happened?” She came all the way out and shut the door gently behind her.
Greer wouldn’t mention the dress. She didn’t think she could discuss it rationally at the moment. Her heart and mind were both racing. “It’s great news, actually.”
“Really? You look upset.”
Greer shook her head. “No, really, I’m okay. It’s about Miss Thing.”
“Wait.” Jill’s mouth dropped open. “She got called to ‘Come on down’?’”
“Yes. In a big way.”
Jill’s face drained of color. “What do you mean?”
Greer gave her the details. “It’s so unreal, I’m just kind of in shock.”
“She’s actually a double showcase winner?” Jill’s eyes were huge.
“Yes.” Greer grinned. “This calls for a major celebration. She says she’s opened a tab for me and all my friends at The Rooftop.”
“I still can’t believe it,” Jill said.
“Me, neither.”
Jill laughed. “There’s no way you can sit still through the rest of a trunk show now. Can you?”
“Absolutely not.” Jill didn’t need to know she was feeling terribly mixed-up. Happy for Miss Thing, and angry at Pierre. Miserable that such a gorgeous dress was in his hands. Wistful and jealous that another woman would win it, with its charmed beads and beautiful love story.
But happy for Miss Thing. That was what she’d focus on.
Jill went back to the door. “I’ll get Serena.”
“Okay.” Greer opened the solitary leaflet again. It must have been printed at the last minute. Pierre’s words came back to her about how his revenge would be swift.
Boy, he was right.
He wouldn’t expect that she’d know what he’d done. Would he? But wasn’t that the whole point? That she’d know and be upset?
She thought about it. There was no way he’d have known she’d go on the Spring Stroll. Something clicked in her head
then and gave her a very bad feeling. She looked down at her phone. Sure enough, there was a text from Pierre: Check our Web site, was all it said.
The loser.
She’d put her phone on vibrate during the trunk show and had caught Ella’s phone call but not his text. Maybe it had come in while she was talking to Ella. She’d been distracted by the news about Miss Thing and never would have noticed.
She had no doubt the La Di Da Web site sported a splashy announcement about the dress giveaway.
Greer had to go look at the gown up close. It would be her only chance. She didn’t even care that Pierre would probably be there.
Her throat constricted when she remembered she was with Serena. She didn’t want to see the dress with her, or even with Jill. She wanted to go on her own. Royal Bliss represented her Perfect Wedding dreams, and those dreams were fragile. Sweet. Her dreams were about romantic love—nothing like the no-nonsense partnership her parents shared. And that was why no one could come with her. Tangled up in her wedding fantasies was a thin wisp of sadness that her parents didn’t seem to have the kind of soul-mate relationship she wanted and wouldn’t stop believing in.
One time. She had to see Royal Bliss one more time, and she didn’t care if she had to walk by Pierre to do it. In fact, that would give her tremendous satisfaction. She wouldn’t be cowed by a small-minded businessman who sought silly revenge on her.
If she wanted a wedding dress in her closet when she didn’t have a partner, that was her business. Even if she couldn’t have this one, she could stand up for single women everywhere who wanted love in their lives and thumb her nose at Pierre by showing up, unafraid of his scorn.
Or she could just ignore him and his text, of course. He was baiting her. But when she contemplated walking away, she realized the dress had woven its magic on her. She had to go.
Jill came out and said Serena was actually purchasing a couple of skirts and a bathing suit to be shipped to her later, so it would be a few minutes.
“No problem,” Greer said. “I’ll see you both at The Rooftop when she’s done. If you get there first, put whatever you get on Miss Thing’s tab. I have to grab my bike. It’s still chained near Carmella’s. I’m going to ride it home and take a cab back.” Which was true. But she was also going to make a secret stop at La Di Da first to look at the dress.
A Wedding At Two Love Lane Page 7