Several figure skaters entertained us with performances to popular music. They each had their own flair, but I could hardly wait for Sasha Cohen to hit the ice. The audience applauded as another skater finished a rendition to a movie theme song.
“This is great. I never would’ve thought this kind of entertainment could be found so far off the beaten path,” Dallas said. “I can see why people want vacation homes here.”
“Ah, that’s the realtor speaking, isn’t it?”
“It is.” He covered my hand with his. “Thanks for coming with me, Adri. I hope we can go out again soon.”
“Thanks. Me too,” I whispered. Surprisingly, I meant it.
Dallas scooted closer, and I noticed a slight tremor in his left hand, particularly the shortened ring finger. I hoped his shyness would dissipate as we continued to get to know each other, but if it didn’t, that would be a deal breaker for me. I hated feeling like I had to tone down my vivaciousness so I wouldn’t overshadow the quieter types. I wanted someone who could steal a kiss without having a panic attack.
His arm tightened around me, and I noted that he was strong, an impression his lanky figure didn’t give at first. I was just about to ask him what he liked to do for exercise—maybe running, like me—when the announcer shouted Sasha’s name.
The Olympic medalist circled the ice with grace, and my arms tingled when I heard the scrape of ice as she catapulted into a double axel. I cheered when she landed in perfect form and sped past us on her way to the other side of the rink.
“Isn’t she fantastic?” I asked Dallas.
He applauded along with me. “It’s different watching in real life. I don’t know how they do it.”
The performance ended all too soon and had my feet itching to skate around the rink, even if I could do so only in clunky rental skates. “Have you ever been ice skating?”
Dallas shook his head. “You know how people say there are some things that are better left undone?” He pulled his thumb toward his chest. “That goes for me and any slippery surface.”
My hopes deflated. Guess there wouldn’t be an ice-skating date in the near future. He must have noticed because he took my hand. “But I’d be willing to try it. Who knows? Maybe I just need the right teacher.”
I smiled. “Maybe so.”
We walked back to his car in a relaxed silence—or at least, I felt comfortable. I glanced at Dallas, wondering if his hands trembled with nerves again. He seemed to be deep in thought, maybe trying to figure out what he wanted to say.
We passed under a stand of blue spruce trees and the night sky twinkled above us. Dallas lifted his face toward the heavens. “Look, there’s Cassiopeia.”
“And there’s the Big Dipper.” I pointed toward another area of the northern sky. “That’s the extent of my stargazing skills, but you sound like you have more expertise.”
“The Big Dipper is also known as the Plough, or the Saptarshi, after the seven rishis or sages in Hindu literature.”
Leaning back, I widened my eyes in appreciation of his knowledge. I couldn’t resist teasing, “I’m impressed, Professor Reynolds.”
“Astronomy is a hobby of mine. I have a telescope. Maybe I could show you the sky sometime.”
“Do you use that line with all your dates?”
Dallas stiffened. “Well, no, I, uh—”
“I’m teasing. But it is a good line.” He relaxed and gave me an easy smile. He really was good-looking, and I’d had a great evening. Probably in part due to Lorea’s advice.
I could be patient. His shyness was no problem with his killer good looks and sweet personality, but I did wonder if he had enough confidence for my taste. My dad told me that confidence was definitely my strong suit, and my brother just said I was full of myself. I called it independence and knowing what I wanted out of life. I knew I couldn’t reach my goals if I reined in my natural “conquer the world” attitude.
We stared at the sky for a few more minutes, and then Dallas led me to the car and opened my door. “I had a great time tonight,” he said. “Those figure skaters were awesome.”
“They were. I loved it when that guy did a back flip—I thought you were going to fall off your seat.”
Dallas laughed. “He surprised me, that’s for sure.”
We continued to talk during the ten-minute drive to my house. He pulled up beside my condo and put his car in park, leaving the engine running as he hurried to open my door.
“Thanks for being a gentleman.” I allowed him to help me from the car. “And thanks for the nice evening.”
“My pleasure.”
He looked at me and a strange flicker of emotion crossed his face. I had noticed it before, and now I wondered if it might be fear. Was he that anxious about the doorstep scene? If so, it was kind of cute. For half a second I thought about initiating a kiss myself.
“I’d really like to take you out again, Adri.” He hesitated and then leaned toward me and kissed my cheek.
Dallas and his insecurities passed through my mind, and even though I wanted to, I wondered if I should accept his invitation for another date. I considered the effort he was obviously making to get past his shyness and decided to challenge myself as well. “I’d like that.” I hugged him briefly and leaned back.
“Good night, and may the stars shower good dreams on you.” He gave my hand a gentle squeeze and returned to his car, humming a tune I couldn’t quite catch.
Barely eleven o’clock and he didn’t try to invite himself in? Dallas might be reserved and a bit cautious, but he had definitely just scored some major points in my book.
With a hand on my freshly kissed cheek, I moved through my home, trying to analyze my feelings about Dallas. I started to get ready for bed, but after I slipped into my comfy pajamas, I knew I was too keyed up to sleep. Natalie’s wedding dress still needed my attention. Maybe I could think about my potential love life while I finished taking out the hem and figured out what to do with those rocks in my quilt.
On my way out of my bedroom, I paused, lifting the silver-framed picture of Briette and me at her bridal shower. Her grin was contagious, and my own smile was full of laughter as best friends celebrated childhood dreams of fairy-tale weddings coming true.
The corners of my mouth lifted, but my heart still hurt. “Oh, Briette. I miss you,” I whispered. Swallowing, I set the frame back on my dresser with the hope that she was proud of me for keeping my dream alive. Briette had always been my biggest supporter, and she’d done so much to help me make a name for myself.
After completing my wedding planner certification four years ago, I couldn’t stop pinching myself when I landed a job at the ritzy Bellissima Wedding Dreams in San Francisco. Grueling hours of pampering spoiled brides by fulfilling their every wish eventually earned my place as an assistant to one of the associate wedding planners. Then karma had intervened in my behalf—or so it seemed at the time.
Briette Nelson was engaged to marry Caleb Rice, a southern boy with old money, and his family wanted to spare no expense when it came to the wedding. Briette hired me, her best friend from college, as her wedding planner. The news of her engagement made it into the social sections of the major newspapers, and Bellissima was thrilled. Overnight, I was promoted to the position of associate wedding planner.
Six months of preparation passed as I oversaw every detail of Briette’s bridal showers, gown fittings, flower choices, and twinkle light displays. More accounts piled up with young women hoping to garner Briette’s wedding planner next. The Nelson-Rice wedding would be the highlight of the year for Bellissima.
Tears stung my eyes as I relived the moment that had dammed the course of the river my life had taken. My throat clenched, and even this many months later, it was still hard to swallow when I thought of how Briette was murdered. The sharp pain of sorrow enveloped me as I thought about Briette’s dreams—about her life. Stolen.
Only three days before the big day, I had found Briette strangled and stabbed to dea
th in her wedding gown. There were no suspects. No one was arrested. And someone got away with murder, because even a year later the police didn’t have any leads and were moving the investigation to the cold-case file.
Caleb was trying to come to terms with the fact that he might never see the murderer brought to justice, the person who ripped his happiness away and left an aching hole in both our hearts. I knew I shouldn’t do this to myself, but I still hoped that the killer would be found and punished.
My mind went to those days after the tragedy, even though I resisted the memories. I had collapsed after Briette’s murder. The news surrounding her death, the subsequent cancellations of accounts, and the horrible realization of loss proved too much for me. I packed up and moved back home to Idaho.
With another glance at the picture, I left the room. At least the best parts of Briette would live on. Her cheerful, optimistic attitude crept into my thoughts and reminded me that she wouldn’t be happy to see me dwelling on the sad ending of her life.
I wondered what Briette would think of Dallas. Immediately I knew she would have been sympathetic to his shy nature. She’d consider him adorable, definitely worth several dates because of his quiet charm and chivalrous ways.
My cell phone sang “Marry Me” by Train—Lorea thought it was perfect when it rang at the shop. I wondered who might be calling so late and bit my bottom lip when I saw Dallas’s name float across the screen. My heart fluttered as a tiny thrill of excitement changed my solemn mood.
“Miss me already?” I answered.
A nervous cough preceded his voice. “Uh—yes, actually. Adri, can I see you again tomorrow?”
He liked me, and I surprised myself because I was okay with him liking me enough to ask for a third date less than an hour after dropping me off after our second date. “What time?” I wiggled my toes and watched the purple nail polish shimmer as the fluorescent light in my kitchen reflected off the glitter.
“I, um—I just can’t stop thinking about you,” Dallas stuttered.
I couldn’t help but smile. “I was thinking about you too.”
“Really?”
“You’re a great guy.” And if he had been in front of me at that moment, I would definitely have kissed him for being so genuine. What a change from the arrogant men I’d dated.
“Thanks. I—well, what would you like to do?”
I eyed Natalie’s gown and frowned. It would take nearly two hours to pick out the hem—I couldn’t pull the seams to pop the threads or it would damage the material. I had to undo each and every stitch. “It’ll have to be something fast. I’ll be working past six tomorrow, and then I have some work I need to finish up tomorrow night on a wedding gown. How about meeting for an ice cream around seven?”
“Sure. I love ice cream.”
“Have you ever tried a frozen mud pie?” My sweet tooth started aching just thinking about the sugar-laden treat.
“No, but it sounds like something I should. Where do you get one?”
“At Frozen Tundra Treats, just past Roxy’s grocery store.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I grinned at the phone for a full minute before moving myself to the spare bedroom to work on Natalie’s dress. There was a lightness in my step as I thought about what tomorrow might bring. I found myself smiling over the memory of Luke trying a fried pickle and pushed him from my mind. Tomorrow would be date number three with Dallas, and I hoped a kiss might be in order.
Dallas had sounded a bit more confident on the phone. Maybe he just needed time to find his footing. An hour later, I picked out the last stitch, releasing the hem on Natalie’s gown. Thankfully, I’d finished the task much faster than I anticipated. Maybe I’d have a little more time to get ready for my date with Dallas. There had been no more surprises. I still didn’t have any ideas for dealing with the diamonds, but my mental energy was shot. They were safe enough in the quilt, at least that’s what I told myself. I prepared for bed, reprimanding my thoughts whenever they strayed to the mystery of Natalie’s gown.
Chapter 8
Save the Dress! Stain Remover
Mix together 2⁄3 cup dishwashing liquid, 2⁄3 cup ammonia, six tablespoons baking soda, and two cups warm water. Pour mixture into a spray bottle. Shake before use. Spray on stains and let sit for one minute. Launder as usual. *I always keep a bottle handy at the shop for accidents!
Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com.
Lorea was waiting for me when I opened the back door of the shop at eight fifteen the next morning.
“Dish,” she demanded, handing me a peppermint tea with a sleeve from the Iconoclast Bookstore. The cinnamon mocha latte she sipped reminded me of Christmastime.
“We had so much fun. Sasha Cohen is amazing, and Dallas is a romantic. We did a little stargazing after the ice show.”
Lorea looked at the ceiling and pursed her lips, deep in thought. “Yeah, I can see that. He seems like the sentimental type. Did he kiss you?”
“On the cheek.” I slid my bag under the desk and sipped my tea.
“That’s it?”
“He’s pretty shy. I was kind of worried halfway into our date about how nervous he seemed, but he was such a gentleman and so sweet that I agreed to see him again tonight.”
“Wow, you must like him if you’re making time for him on June first—the beginning of insanity for all wedding planners.”
“It’s just ice cream. I told him I have too much work to do.”
“Don’t let work rule your life,” Lorea said. “If you like this guy, I can help you more.”
“I know you would, but I also know you’re just as busy as I am right now. Besides, I take breaks. Remember I went for barbeque yesterday?”
“Wait a minute. You never told me why you were smiling so big when you came in yesterday.”
Nothing got by Lorea. I hesitated, wondering if I should tell her about Luke.
“Oh, I know that look.” Lorea clapped her hands. “’Fess up.”
I shrugged. “Clay’s place was crowded, as usual, so I shared a booth with this good-looking guy and ended up giving him one of my fried pickles.”
“Did he like it?”
I nodded, and Lorea chuckled. “So what’s his name?”
“Luke Stetson.”
“Hmm, that sounds familiar.” Lorea fiddled with the chain holding her glasses. “Or maybe it’s just one of those names that makes you think of something else. So, is he hot?”
“Um. He rides a Harley.”
Lorea squealed. “Tell me.”
I felt a bit disloyal to Dallas. “Maybe you could go out with him.”
Lorea frowned. “You’re not engaged to Dallas. You can date two guys at once. Just tell me what he looks like.”
“Okay, okay.”
I described Luke’s gorgeous cobalt blue eyes, imposing height, and dark curly hair, and Lorea listened with a grin on her face. I was just about to mention the dimple in his chin when my phone started chirping a reminder. I snatched it off the counter and groaned. “Good thing I set this alarm in my phone. I’m supposed to be meeting that new caterer in ten minutes.” I swiped my finger across the screen to silence the alarm. “I’m going to be late.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand.” Lorea shooed me out the door. “Bring me back a sample.”
“Will do,” I said. “I probably won’t be back until after lunch.”
It was hard not to speed across town, but I made myself take a few cleansing breaths with a mental reminder that the caterer was probably just as busy as I was. Decadent Catering was housed in another remodeled bungalow with a charming yellow and pink foyer. Valerie Garner was prepared for my visit with professional-looking brochures, delicious ribbon sandwiches, and chocolate mint truffles.
“These look beautiful, and they taste even better,” I said around a bite of sandwich.
“Thank you. I promised my husband an extra batch of mint truffles if he would help me design these brochures.”
Valerie traced a finger along the pink and yellow font of Decadent Catering.
“I’m sure it wasn’t hard for him to agree to your terms.” I snagged a truffle and let it melt in my mouth while I studied her pricing suggestions. “Let’s talk about how you might be able to help me with an upcoming bridal shower.”
Valerie’s face lit up with a smile. “I’d love to. Have a seat.” She motioned to a few whitewashed chairs, and we spent the next two hours discussing Natalie’s and Sylvia’s bridal showers and what they were hoping for. Valerie had already prepared bids for specific layouts, and we talked about how adjustments would change the bids. Overall, we were both happy with the ideas she had prepared.
I left Decadent Catering with a package of mint truffles, ribbon sandwiches, a container of Valerie’s specialty herb and spinach salad, and a smile on my face. Valerie was organized, confident, and from what I’d sampled so far, talented enough to pull off catering Sylvia’s bridal shower. It was a relief to find someone I felt was competent enough to help me through the summer.
On the way back to my shop, I turned sharply into the post office when I remembered that I hadn’t checked the P.O. box for a couple days. With keys jangling, I hurried inside to grab my mail. There wasn’t anything interesting in the little silver box, and I crammed the bills into my purse. I turned to go but halted when I recognized the profile of Luke from Clay’s Barbeque. Should I say hello? I recalled our conversation from yesterday and frowned.
He turned at that moment, and his eyes brightened with a smile when he saw me. “Hello, there. It’s Adri, right?”
I nodded.
“What’s the matter, no fried pickles today?” He winked, and I felt my cheeks flushing. What was I, thirteen?
“Just bills, unfortunately.” I patted my purse and immediately felt even more juvenile. I racked my brain for something witty to say.
He stepped toward me and all wittiness left my brain when I focused on the dark blue of his eyes. “Hey, I’m sorry if I came off rude yesterday,” he said.
Diamond Rings Are Deadly Things Page 8