Secondhand Bride (The Almost Wives Club Book 2)

by Nancy Warren

  Naturally , Tasmine’s phone number wasn’t very hard to find: it was plastered all over the wedding binder. When she called and officially asked her to sign on as bridesmaid, Tasmine didn’t sound very surprised. “Sure, I’d love to,” she said, as though she were delighted to organize the wedding of someone she barely knew and then stand up in a dress she’d never wear again to pose for pictures that would fill other people’s photo albums. Whatever. Ashley supposed there were worse ways to make money.

  Ashley read over the article online about Evangeline and her cursed wedding dress a couple more times. She sent it to Whitney and Sienna to read. She didn’t like the uneasy, almost queasy, feeling she experienced when she contemplated wearing that dress down the aisle. She knew there was supposed to be something borrowed that the bride carried down the aisle with her, but she didn’t want her borrowed item to be a curse!

  Chapter Thirteen

  THERE WERE VERY FEW PEOPLE she could talk to about the curse business. The bridegroom was naturally out of the question. His contribution to the wedding so far had been bringing over a lot of brochures for her to look at for their honeymoon. He seemed a lot more pumped about a tropical vacation than he did about the details of their actual marriage. He talked vaguely about his stockbroker course, but she didn’t think he’d registered yet. Nevertheless, Eric was one of those people who always landed on his feet. She imagined he’d work it out.

  There was one person who would know all about the curse. Well, there were several who would know the details. The dress designer, Evangeline, obviously, a woman far too terrifying for Ashley to approach. The seamstress who had placed the curse in the first place, but how would she even find such a person? And, finally, the bride for whom the dress was originally designed. Kate Winton-Jones.

  Ashley knew her, obviously, because she’d been engaged to her cousin Ted, who used to live in the pool house on this very property. He’d know how to contact her. If anyone knew how bad this curse was and what form it took, that person had to be Kate Winton-Jones.

  After thinking about it for a day, she texted Ted. Hey Ted, she began. That was easy. How to continue? Naturally , she didn’t want to tell him the truth or he’d scoff at her superstitious nature, so she said: I need to get hold of Kate. No biggie, just had a question for her. Can you send me her deets?

  She pushed send, then threw her bathing suit on for a morning swim. It wasn’t that she intended to see Ben, but she knew there was a good chance that he’d be hard at work in the pool house, that he’d wave when he saw her and go put on a pot of fresh coffee. When she was done, he’d bring her out a mug and they would chat for a few minutes. Maybe he’d offer her another driving lesson. Also, she needed the exercise. She wasn’t hung over from the night before with her girlfriends, but she had that slightly fuzzy feeling that one less beer last night would have been a good idea.

  Before she dove into the pool, she gazed through the big window and saw the screenwriter in his usual position, bent over his keyboard. He glanced up as though he felt her scrutiny. She waved and he waved back and before she dove in he raised his coffee mug and pointed to it and she gave him the two thumbs up sign. Oh yeah, she would definitely crave a coffee when she finished her swim.

  She slipped off her flip-flops, dropped her towel and the big gray T-shirt she wore as a cover-up onto a handy lounger, then dove into the clean, cool water. When she was in the pool, everything seemed solvable. Every part of her worked in rhythm when she was swimming. She always felt like she was getting somewhere even though it was only back and forth across the same stretch of water. Like so much of her life. When she finished, she dragged herself out, breathing heavily. As though he’d been watching for her, Ben emerged from the pool house carrying two mugs of coffee. He waited for her to towel off and throw on the oversized T-shirt, then passed her a mug. They settled on a couple of loungers and she sipped gratefully.

  “You really had a mission this morning,” Ben said, looking at her over the rim of his coffee mug. “The way the water was churning I thought there was a shark attack in the pool.”

  No wonder she was breathing so hard. She hadn’t realized how fast she was swimming. He must’ve read the expression on her face correctly, for he asked, “is something bothering you?”

  And, strangely, for all the people in her life who she felt she couldn’t tell about her worries over the cursed—make that possibly-cursed—dress, she felt that Ben was one person who might actually understand. “If I ask you something, will you promise not to think I’m crazy?”

  Without hesitation he shook his head. “No way. I retain all rights at this moment and into the future to think of you as crazy.”

  She couldn’t help but grin. “Okay, since you already think I’m crazy, I don’t suppose it matters. But here’s the problem.” She then described to him the article she had read and her fears about the dress being cursed. He listened intently, and didn’t laugh, or scoff. “Do you believe in curses?” she asked finally.

  He sat quietly for a moment. The endless sun glinted off the pool. “I think that’s an interesting question. Do I believe in curses? I don’t know. I think curses probably work both ways. What I mean by that is, let’s say someone curses me and tells me all my hair will fall out. I have to believe it enough for my hair to fall out. If I don’t believe in the curse, I personally think my hair will stay on my head just fine.”

  She sipped her coffee. He made good coffee. Her breath was coming back to normal now and she had that wonderful sense of relaxation that a good session in the pool always gave her. “So, even if that woman did curse the dress, if I don’t believe in curses, you’re saying it can’t hurt me?”

  “Remember, I’m not an exorcist, I’m not a gypsy, I’m merely a guy who makes up stories for a living. I’m giving you my take on curses. But I could be full of shit.”

  “You’re probably right.” She glanced up at him and felt awareness ripple across her skin the way the breeze rippled the surface of the pool. “My problem is, maybe I do believe it.”

  “Yes, that would be a problem. Why do you?”

  “I don’t know. I feel like everything is going so fast and everybody is so excited about this wedding, and people are throwing us parties and putting ads in the paper and delivering designer dresses. Maybe I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

  He regarded her seriously for a moment. “I don’t think you should do anything because it’s easy.”

  Easy? She wasn’t doing that, was she? She did love Eric. It felt good to be doing something right for a change, to feel like this wedding was making two very difficult families happy. Eric didn’t seem to have any doubts, why did she?

  Of course she didn’t share any of this with Ben. What she said was, “I emailed Ted and asked him for Kate Winton- Jones’s contact information. She’s the woman he was supposed to marry. She’s the one who was first supposed to wear the dress.”

  “You could just get a new dress.”

  “Oh don’t think I haven’t thought about it. But to throw this engagement present back in Millicent and Duncan’s face? When things are going so well? I keep thinking it’s just one day, just one dress.”

  “A pretty important day. And a pretty important dress.”

  “I’ll see what Kate says. Then I’ll decide what to do.”

  “So, how do you feel about a driving lesson today?”

  “I have to be at school at two o’clock today.” She turned to him. “Could our driving lesson take me there?”

  He sent her a crooked grin. “And after that, I’m guessing you’d like a second lesson, that would involve driving back from school?”

  She twinkled at him. “There’s an amazing coffee shop on campus, you’d get so much work done there.”

  “Tell you what, come over tonight, and read this new scene I wrote.”

  “Deal.”

  Ashley went home and showered and ate fruit and yogurt for breakfast. She was trying to drop a few pounds for the
wedding, though it wasn’t going very well. All the swimming in the world wouldn’t make her look like a lily. Her build was athletic, muscular rather than wispy. God, maybe it was the dress that was cursed to have her stuffed in it.

  When she’d cleaned up the dishes, she checked her email and found that Kate Winton-Jones had replied already. Ted had merely forwarded her email on to his former fiancée, which was typically efficient of him.

  Her email was short and to the point. “Hi Ashley, what’s up? I’d love to hear from you. Obviously this is my email, and here’s my cell number. Call anytime.”

  She grabbed her cell phone and called the number Kate had provided. Her former almost cousin-in-law answered right away. “Kate Winton-Jones.”

  “Hey Kate, it Ashley.”

  “Ashley. It’s a good to hear from you.” And the weird thing was, she did sound happy to hear from her.

  Now she didn’t know how to go on. How could she ask a perfectly sensible, intelligent, educated woman whether she thought her wedding dress might be cursed?

  She scrambled around for something to say and came up with, “I have some news. I’m getting married.”

  There was a stunned moment of silence, and then Kate said, “Really? Who are you marrying?”

  “Eric Van Hoffendam, of course.”

  “Right. He’s the tall, blond one, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Well that’s wonderful, have you set a date?”

  “Four weeks from Saturday.”

  “Wow. That’s so soon.”

  “I’m not pregnant.” She got that out of the way. “We decided to get married and didn’t see the point in waiting around for a year or more. We’re getting married here on the Carnarvon estate, so we didn’t have to book a venue a year in advance.”

  “Sure, that makes sense.”

  There was a tiny pause. She wished she had the courage to bring up the curse, but how did you ask someone if they had run off before their own wedding because their stupid dress was cursed? It would make both of them sound nuts.

  It was Kate who broke the silence. “This feels sort of weird, but I should probably tell you that I’m getting married too.”

  “What!”

  Kate laughed. “I know, it sounds so crazy. But, being engaged to Ted taught me a lot of things. I was settling. And when I met the man I love, the man I think I’ll love forever, well, you know how it is. When it’s real love, you know it right deep down. You can’t fake real love. You either feel it or you don’t.”

  “Absolutely, I know exactly what you mean.” When in fact she wasn’t certain that she did. “So, when are you getting married?

  “This weekend. On Catalina Island. It’s a super small wedding. But why don’t you come?”

  “No, that’s okay. I really hope you’ll be happy.”

  “Ashley, I’m serious. No one named Carnarvon will be there. My mother’s not even coming. It’s going to be a really small wedding. A few of my close friends, a few of Nick’s close friends. I do a lot of things now by instinct when I used to plan everything, and I really feel like you should come.”

  “I’ve never been to Catalina Island.” Which was weird since it was so close, and if it was a really small wedding and everything was casual, maybe there’d be an easy way to work into the conversation some questions about that dress. “Sure. I’d love to come. Is it okay if I bring a guest?”

  “Of course. We’re getting married outside, on the beach, it’s not like we have to count chairs.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  SHE CALLED ERIC RIGHT AWAY. “Hey babe, what’s up?” He asked in his sleepy way.

  “Can you come with me to a wedding on Saturday?”

  “This Saturday?”

  He must be mentally going through his list of the weddings they both had to attend and coming up blank. “I thought we had a weekend off from weddings.”

  “We do, but this one just came up. It’s sort of spontaneous, but it’s Kate Winton-Jones, the woman who was supposed to marry my cousin Ted. She invited us to her wedding. I’d love to go.”

  “I can’t, Ash. I’ve got to go golfing with my dad and some of his buddies.”

  “You’re going golfing with your dad?”

  “Yeah.” He did not sound very happy. “It’s guys he knows who could maybe hire me when I finish my stockbroking course. If I blow it off he’ll never shut up about it.”

  “No, I understand. Have fun, and please take a selfie of you in golfing pants, and promise me you’ll wear a plaid cap.”

  “Hey, I can rock a plaid cap.” And he was probably right. If anyone could make a tartan hat sexy, it was Eric. He continued, “So, you want to hang out this afternoon?”

  “Can’t, I have class.”

  “Okay. Hey, I think I’ve narrowed it down to Tahiti and Bora Bora.”

  He was obviously talking about their honeymoon. “Bora Bora? I didn’t even know it was on the list.”

  “It wasn’t, but the travel agent found this really cool resort. It’s like seven stars or something and there’s a million sports, diving and snorkeling and racing boats. It looks awesome. Oh, and there’s a spa for you.”

  “That sounds cool.”

  “I sent you the link.”

  “I’ll check it out.”

  She tried not to feel disappointed. Of course Eric had plans on a Saturday. Golfing with his dad? He must really be getting serious about finding a job and getting on with his life. Which was good, she reminded herself. It was very good. Just sort of boring and not Eric.

  ***

  “I can’t fit into that spot,” she argued. “And anyway, it’s the wrong side.”

  “You can do it,” Ben replied in his soothing driving instructor tone. “And it’s not the wrong side, it’s just going in on the left-hand side instead of always parking on the right-hand side of the street.”

  She huffed out an irritated breath even though she liked the new challenges he kept heaping on her. The truth was, she was an excellent driver, and they both knew it. She reversed the car, which handled like a dream, until the rear wheels were even with the car in front of the spot. She spun the steering wheel, backed into the spot and aced her parallel park.

  “Nice job,” he said.

  “Thanks, I have a good teacher.”

  “You do. But I have an excellent student.”

  “Can I go on the highway again?” She loved cruising along the highway with the top down.

  “Sure, you’ve earned it. You know, you could take the test. I think you’d pass.”

  “Oh.” In truth, she hadn’t even thought about taking her road test. She loved her driving lessons. She loved driving Ben’s car and liked having him sitting beside her either giving her calm advice or driving tips. As she grew more confident, he let her drive and they talked about anything and everything. If she passed the driving test, she’d lose all that. Plus, it wasn’t like she had a car to drive. “Can we keep practicing one more week?”

  “Absolutely. You should feel completely confident before you take your road test.” She might be mistaken, but she thought he sounded relieved that they were continuing their lessons at least for another week.

  An idea sprang into her head. “You know what would be really good for my driving?”

  “No, but I am guessing your idea will involve huge inconvenience to me and my car.”

  Damn, he could see right through her. “I was going to invite you to Catalina Island for the day on Saturday. But if you don’t want to go, that’s fine, I won’t take you.”

  He turned his head to stare at her. “You know they don’t allow cars on Catalina Island, right?”

  No, she didn’t know that, but she wasn’t going to let him in on her lack of knowledge. She said, “Of course I know that. But we have to drive down to where you get the ferry.” Which she knew was somewhere south of them. She’d look online to find exact directions.

  “What’s the big attraction with Catalin
a Island?”

  “A wedding.”

  “A wedding? Who’s getting married?”

  “Kate Winton-Jones.”

  He nodded, understanding the entire plan before she even had to say a word. It was great being with someone who was so intuitive. It saved her so much explaining. “Of course. You can ask her about the dress.”

  “Exactly.”

  He thought about it for a few minutes. “I guess I can take a day off Saturday, sure.”

  ***

  The wedding of Kate and Nick could not have been more different from the wedding that had been planned for Kate Winton-Jones and Edward Carnarvon III. Ashley wore one of her favorite summer dresses, a blue and black frock designed by a woman in art college in LA. With it she wore chunky black sandals and plenty of sunscreen.

  Ben looked both casual and elegant in the same beige chinos that he’d worn to her engagement party, along with a brown linen jacket. Naturally , she took the wheel. They laughed and chatted the entire ride down and then they got the ferry from Dana point. It was easy to pick out the other guests who were on their way to the wedding because they also carried gift-wrapped packages and wore casual finery.

  Ashley was a pretty friendly person and soon there was a laughing group of people on their way to the wedding. She met Nick’s work associates, and friends of Kate’s she had never met before. Kate had only been part of her life because of Ted, so it was strange to find herself going to this wedding, and yet it felt somehow right. Cursed or not, that dress connected them somehow and connected their fates. She was certain of it.

  When the ferry docked and they walked down to the boardwalk, there were Kate and Nick standing there, greeting the guests themselves. Instead of the Evangeline-designed down, Kate wore a white cotton sundress, a big straw hat, and sandals. Her groom was equally casual. He wore jeans, a blue and white button-down shirt, and canvas deck shoes. There was no denying the glow of happiness that enveloped the two of them. They held hands as though they couldn’t bear not to touch each other. They greeted each guest separately, warmly, and when Ashley reached the bride and groom, and what was almost a backwards receiving line, Kate gave her an impulsive hug. “I am so glad you came.”