“Pretty good,” she said, and wanted to kiss him in celebration, or consolation—she wasn’t sure which. She’d done her best, but she was likely out of the contest.
Then she remembered: Off limits. Potential daddy. Lives in England. So kissing him was a bad idea.
“Oh, my gosh!” Serena came running up and threw her arms around Greer. Wesley trailed behind her. “You’re so brave.”
“You and Wesley were bold yourselves,” Greer told Serena.
Greer locked eyes with Wesley for a moment. It might have been hard for him to hear her say she hoped to find true love. Maybe he considered it a diss to their past relationship. But it also wasn’t her fault that he was there, and she needed to continue living her life, didn’t she?
“And Greer made some thought-provoking points,” Ford said.
She loved Ford’s English accent. Even the way he said thought-provoking made her want to kiss him. Add that to the fact that he seriously had her back, and she was falling hard already. Which her logical mind knew was impossible. You couldn’t fall in love that fast. But since yesterday, when she’d seen that dress, everything had felt different.
“I really, really want to win this dress,” Serena said. “What would you do with it?” she asked Greer.
“Until I get to wear it myself,” she said, “maybe loan it out to friends getting married. Spread the good luck around. You’re into re-purposing, right? What would you do?”
“Wear it to my wedding and then put it away,” said Serena. “That’s the one thing I won’t re-purpose, unless one of our daughters wants to wear it someday.”
“That’s a good plan,” said Greer. She saw no reason to be anything but agreeable and friendly. She and Serena would be living in the same city for the next year.
But she had to admit, she was happy when the Two Love Lane girls came up and hugged her.
“You never told us about your Perfect Wedding scrapbooks and Pinterest page!” said Miss Thing.
“Yeah, sorry,” said Greer, blushing.
“I’ve seen you cutting paper in your office,” said Macy with a laugh, “and you always put the scissors down when I come in. I remember asking you once what you were doing, and you fobbed me off.”
Greer kept blushing. “Yep, that was me working on a scrapbook. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you about it. I thought you might tease me, I guess.”
“Why would we?” asked Ella. “You’re right—what’s wrong with doing some advance wedding preparation? And putting yourself in the right mind-set for love to come your way? I can’t wait to see what kind of gowns and cakes you like.”
“Thanks,” said Greer. “I like flipping through the scrapbooks. It’s funny how my tastes have changed as I get older. I don’t know if it’s me or the times.”
“Maybe both,” said Miss Thing.
“While you were talking onstage,” Macy said, “three college girls standing next to me said they had wedding Pinterest pages that they keep private and share only with each other.”
“And only one of them had a boyfriend,” said Ella.
“I had no idea,” Serena said, “that so many single women keep notes on their dream weddings.”
Jill walked up. “I know, right? My good friend Sheila has an entire paper file filled with clippings of her favorite gowns, cakes, and flowers. She’s been keeping it for years.”
“A woman’s wedding day is her chance to play princess,” said Macy. “Or queen for the day.”
“The fairy tale never quite leaves us,” Greer added, “and it takes many forms.”
“My friend Janie just had a Goth wedding,” Jill said. “She wore black and a spiked dog collar, and they left on the coolest Harley I’ve ever seen.”
“And I just went to my niece’s wedding in Fort Lauderdale,” said Miss Thing. “They got married in the pool. She wore a white bikini and a veil. And a dolphin brought over the rings.”
“Good Lord,” said Greer. “I’m downright dull compared to those ladies.”
The light chatter kept on for a few minutes. Everyone laughed. But the truth was, Greer was nervous about the contest. She could tell Serena was, too.
* * *
An hour, a big glass of champagne, and lots of dancing later, it was time to find out who’d finaled. Those five finalists would then have to compete to win Royal Bliss.
The most exciting finalist so far was the bride with a partner serving in Afghanistan. She walked up with his stand-in, but she was able to FaceTime her fiancé, who was so excited for her. When Serena’s name was called, Greer wasn’t surprised. No one was. Serena laughed and cried little tears and ran up on the stage. Wesley clapped madly for her. She was number four of the five finalists. Kiki ran over to her and held the microphone under her chin.
“I’m thrilled beyond belief,” said Serena. “This is a dream come true.”
And the audience went Awwww, all together as one. Serena was clearly their favorite.
“She’s so freakin’ adorable,” Macy said. “And confident, too, the way she kissed Wesley when they got introduced. People were impressed.”
“She is bubbly,” said Ella. “So much so I have a hard time envisioning her in the operating room.”
“Me, too,” said Greer. “But then again, I have a hard time imagining Wesley there, too.”
“How about them in the bedroom?” asked Macy.
“I’ve already wondered,” said Greer.
They started laughing.
“Stop,” they said at the same time.
They were not mean girls. And they knew when they were approaching Mean Girl Land.
“It’s time,” Ella held Greer’s hand.
“You did great, no matter what,” said Miss Thing, who’d come up behind her.
It seemed right that they were the ones who would surround her. Ford, Jill, and Wesley were nearby, and part of Greer wished Ford could be right by her side, but that wouldn’t have been appropriate. It wasn’t like they were together. She’d known him two days.
So why did it feel as if she’d known him forever?
At the podium, Henny cleared her throat. Pierre sat on the left side of the stage, his arms crossed over his double-breasted suit. He looked very serious and very cross. But he’d looked like that since the beginning of the night. Only Kiki could soften his features, and at the moment, she was busy preening in front of a small mirror compact, oblivious to the fact that she was onstage in front of a large audience. But then she put her compact in her bra and held her microphone at the ready again.
“Okay,” Greer said under her breath. “Let’s get going.”
She couldn’t help noticing Ford’s face. His gaze was riveted on the stage, on Henny at the podium. It was as if he genuinely cared, as if he were really worried about Greer getting into this contest. That warmed her heart.
“And the fifth finalist is…” Henny began.
Greer’s breath became shallow. She really did want Royal Bliss, so badly.
She closed her eyes, but she didn’t see the dress in her mind, she saw her disappointed parents. She wanted to do something to make them proud of her again. Something.
“Are you okay?” whispered Ella.
“No,” she said, her eyes stinging with tears.
Ella held her hand tighter. “Have faith.”
“The last future bride to final.…”—Henny looked over at Pierre, stony-faced in his chair, then back at the audience—“is … Greer Jones,” she said in firm tones.
Greer couldn’t believe it.
“Go on up,” Macy said, laughing in her ear. “You’re a finalist!”
There was a guy from Channel Five’s local news with his camera focused on Greer.
“If this doesn’t spur some interesting conversations around Charleston, I don’t know what will,” said Miss Thing.
“Unbelievable,” said Ella. “Your story touched a lot of women, obviously.”
So Greer went, accompanied by a lot of cheering. Onstage,
her arm wrapped behind Serena’s back, she grinned and waved at the crowd. But inside, she realized that if she wanted to show her parents she could have a decent life without Wesley in it, this wasn’t the way to go about it, being a partnerless future bride.
Her parents were old-fashioned. They wouldn’t get how brave she was. At all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Greer went onstage to join the other four finalists, she was visibly in shock. Ford noticed how pale she went as soon as her name was called. Her smile was too bright. Her eyes were wary. And he wasn’t sure why. This is what she wanted.
It was true that Pierre appeared to be sulking, and maybe that accounted for her uptight reaction. He wasn’t a guy you wanted to anger if you could possible avoid it.
Kiki held the mike under Greer’s face, and all she said was, “Wow. Thank you all so much.”
Henny stepped into the awkward moment and congratulated everyone, then reminded the audience and the finalists how the rest of the contest would play out: there would be three challenges that week. Whoever had the most points at the end of the third challenge would win the gown.
“The winners will participate in the first challenge tonight,” she said. “They’ll play a short version of the Newlywed Game with their partners.”
Everyone cheered, but Ford’s heart sank. No way could Greer participate. The military bride, Lisa, was able to connect with her faraway soldier on FaceTime, so she could play.
“The next challenge will be a wedding cake bake-off fund-raiser the brides will host for a great charity,” said Henny. “The public will sample five distinct wedding cake recipes chosen by the brides and baked by one of five local wedding cake vendors. They’ll vote on their favorite based on taste and presentation. The winning bride gets a bundle of points. However, more points may be accrued if their soul mates can determine which cake belongs to their future bride. If they’re right, their votes are doubled.”
Greer couldn’t do that one, either! Luckily Lisa would be allowed to use her father as a stand-in for her partner.
“The third challenge,” Henny said, “takes place at a luxurious beach house on the Isle of Palms, where the future brides and their One-and-Onlys will be treated to a weekend of fun, parts of which will be telecast. The public will vote via text or online ballot that will be tallied and the results reported on the Lowcountry Live morning show on Channel Four. FaceTime will be allowed to include our military bride’s true love in the weekend assessment.”
It was obvious Greer wouldn’t be able to compete. At all. She just stood there, looking sad. And quiet.
“A lot of good it does being a finalist,” Macy said to Ford. “She can’t compete without a partner.”
Pierre did look amazingly happy now. In fact, he was outright chortling. No one chortled. Only bad guys in films.
So Ford made a decision. He walked up onstage in his borrowed white dinner jacket, got on one knee, pulled off his gold signet ring, and in front of the entire room, asked Greer, resplendent in her sequined gown, to marry him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ford couldn’t believe he’d done it. But he had.
Why the hell not? he’d told himself as he walked up the steps. What did he have to lose? The entire crowd shifted and actually began shouting when he got on one knee. And when he took his ring off his hand, there were several loud, feminine shrieks from the audience.
He didn’t have time to look anywhere but at Greer. Her mouth hung open. She was gorgeous even when gobsmacked. Maybe more beautiful than she’d ever appeared before because there was nothing guarded about her expression. She had no time to react.
Kiki, Pierre’s diva, must have recognized the moment’s incredible viral marketing potential and came running over with the mike in her hand. She crouched and stuck it under his chin. Her feathery shrug made him want to sneeze, but he managed to stave it off.
And then it was done. The words, “Greer, will you marry me?” hung in the air.
The entire ballroom went silent.
Would she play along? Having a groom would certainly help her chances to win that dress. He wasn’t sure what she’d do. It was what he liked best about her.
She swallowed. “I want to say yes,” she said, “but I have to be honest with everyone. We only just met. Yesterday.”
Bloody hell. The audience went crazy—of course. That was a move Ford never expected. He thought she’d say yes or no, but either way, he’d anticipated walking away with the audience believing his proposal had been real.
Dear God. She was too honest for her own good.
“I really like you, Ford, and I want a chance to win Royal Bliss, but—” Her brow puckered as she obviously searched for the right words.
What was she, one of those American Girl Scouts? They called them Girl Guides in England; Anne had been one. Honesty required at all times.
“But you have no chance to win the challenges without a partner,” he said, easily adjusting to the new parameters. “Why don’t we get to know each other this week while the whole town watches? I’m in this, Greer. I’m open to going wherever this adventure takes us. Please let me be your partner in your quest to win Royal Bliss.” He put his right palm over his heart.
Oh, God. What had come over him? He hated dating reality shows and all that fake crap. But he couldn’t let her walk off the stage without giving everything he had to help her win that gown. Greer’s eyes widened.
Yes, I’m putting on! Play along, will you? he tried to tell her without speaking.
The crowd went ballistic.
Romance fever, love sickness, whatever you wanted to call it. Charleston had it.
Greer was so damned calm as she thought it over. He could almost see the cogs in her brain turning as she stared into his eyes. He looked right back, and for a brief moment in which he had utter clarity, it wasn’t fun and games anymore. This had nothing to do with rescuing her from a cruel emcee named Pierre and an amused audience, and everything to do with rescuing himself.
Say yes, he thought desperately. Say yes. Dear God, please.
And not because he would be embarrassed if she said no. Not because he was worried she’d lose the contest if she said no. He wanted her to say yes because she fit like a glove in his arms and she made him laugh, and he didn’t even know her but he felt like he’d known her forever somehow. It had come at the auction, that feeling, when he watched her, mesmerized, as she stood with her finger trembling in the air and bid on that dress.
And then he pushed the crazed, insane feeling of wanting to be with her forever aside. He was a panicked, soon-to-be father who was afraid to handle his issues alone. That was all. And this outrageous scenario was an excellent distraction from that, not to mention a way to keep her happy enough to continue posing for him.
Yes, those self-serving, perfectly understandable reasons were why he’d strode up the stairs and knelt before her on the stage.
“Okay, you can be my partner,” she said, loud and clear, with no hesitation.
The roar was deafening. At this point, it was a fairly drunken roar. He pushed his signet ring on her left ring finger—it was much too large. And then he stood, took her in his arms, and kissed her.
People stomped their feet. They hooted and hollered. Whistles bounced off the rafters. He had no idea how, but from some corner a boat horn sounded.
“Oh, my God!” he heard someone yell from near the stage and recognized the voice of Jill, Greer’s friend.
The kiss went on and on. Her waist felt so good. So did the curve of her shoulders beneath the cold, hard-edged sequins. And her mouth …
He couldn’t get enough. He forgot all about the yelling. Where he was, silence reigned, a soft, cushiony silence where everything was calm and good and right.
And then it was over. The noise spilled in, like bad music when you open the door to a dive bar.
Greer smiled up at him. He smiled down at her and thought, What have I done?
“What
have we done?” Greer whispered without moving her mouth. She’d make a great ventriloquist.
“Go with it,” he murmured.
“Good God Almighty!” Pierre hissed from the podium into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, this was not a staged event. I’m in as much shock as you are.” He shook his head. “It looks like we got ourselves a solid five-way contest,” he concluded in a ragged whisper.
The whooping reached a new crescendo. Ford didn’t like having all this time to think about what he’d done. But he held tight to Greer’s hand, which was sweating.
“Sorry,” she said. “This feels kind of surreal, and my palms sweat when I’m nervous.”
“There are a lot of things I don’t know about you,” he said quietly.
“Likewise,” she murmured.
Thankfully, Henny stepped forward, put two fingers to her mouth, and blew a piercing whistle. So much for sophistication! She was able to regain control of the audience, so that was all that mattered. “This has been quite an evening,” she said. “And we’re not done yet.”
It was time for The Newlywed Game!
* * *
The seats were being quickly rearranged on the stage. When Greer went to sit down, she had to walk by Pierre.
“You think you’re the cat’s meow with your temporary engagement,” he said. “Let me tell you something. You don’t mess with Pierre Simons.”
“We just gave your contest some extra pizzazz, and you loved it!” she said.
“I can do some serious damage to your business,” he replied.
“You need to see a counselor. Did you have a mean mother or father?”
“My mother wasn’t a nice person. My father ignored me.”
“Boo hoo. Move on. Meanwhile, I’m calling your bluff. If you wanted to bring down Two Love Lane, you’d have tried before now.”
“I had no time. Now I do. I’ve got Kiki. She does all my dirty work. I’m heading to Scotland for a month to go salmon fishing—”
“Do you really think I care you’re going salmon fishing? What else are you doing? Touring a whiskey distillery? Buying a kilt?”
“Kiki will be here watching your every move,” he went on, as if she hadn’t spoken. “So you’d better find ways to be steamrolled by the other contestants on your own, or she’ll make sure it happens for you.”
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