Love, Laughter & Happily Ever After: A sweet romantic comedy collection

by Ellie Hall

  Blood is rushing so profusely to my head that I wonder if it will pop off my neck and launch clear up to space. “No!” I nearly shout. “I’d rather be tarred and feathered before I work on a dress for Collette Williams.” Collette and I were on the cheerleading squad in high school. While we’d never been close friends, we got along okay until I beat out Collette for the head cheerleader position. From that moment on, Collette hated my guts. I wouldn’t put it past her to marry Gavin just to spite me. I had heard through the grapevine a few months ago that Collette and Gavin had gone on a date or two, but I didn’t think it would go anywhere. I figured Gavin was too smart to get mixed up with a high-maintenance diva. Evidently, I was wrong.

  Mom sits down beside me on the bed and places a hand over mine. Her voice is practical, determined as she squeezes. “Look, this is a good opportunity. It’ll get your foot in the door. People listen to Kitty. A recommendation from her is as good as gold.” Mom gives me a pleading look which only she can perfect. “Please? It would mean a great deal to me if you’d do this one, teensy thing.”

  I hate it when Mom goes all soft and contrite on me. While she prides herself on being an outstanding president of charitable organizations, she missed her calling. She should’ve been a hostage negotiator. Given enough time and persuasion, Mom has always been able to mold me, and every other person she has a mind to influence, like putty. I feel myself getting pinned into a corner with no hope of an escape. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll do the stupid alteration.” I raise an eyebrow. “But it had better not be too involved.”

  “Fantastic!” Mom exults as she stands. “You’d better hurry. Collette and Kitty will be here at nine.”

  A hard laugh scratches my throat. “Of course they will be,” I grumble. I had known from the minute Mom waltzed into my room that she had something up her sleeve. “I’m gonna get in the shower.” And I’m taking all the time I need, I add mentally. “If Collette and Kitty get here before I’m done getting ready, they can just wait.” I level a glare, daring Mom to disagree.

  She frowns. “It’s never a good idea to keep clients waiting.”

  Fighting the urge to scream, I point toward the door. “Just go.”

  “See you downstairs,” Mom chimes as she hurriedly leaves the room.

  My headache is now a thousand times worse. With every throb it feels like someone is taking a chisel to my brain. My stomach growls and I roll my eyes. Seriously? How can I possibly be hungry after last night’s gorge session? My stomach had better get a grip because I certainly can’t keep caving to its demands, or I’ll need a new wardrobe before the month’s end.

  I can’t believe that Gavin is getting married to Collette! The world has gone mad. A feeling of deep sadness washes over me, but I immediately tamp it down. Maybe this is a good thing. Gavin’s moving on with his life. If he wants to marry Collette and be one of those Instagram husbands whose only ambition in life is to capture the perfect snapshot of his demanding wife, then so be it. Collette has deemed herself an influencer and has a smattering of a following. She’s constantly doing hair and makeup tutorials. Not that I’ve paid much attention, mind you. I just happened to see a few of her posts.

  Gavin, however, is a different story. I’m not proud to admit this, but in my weaker moments, I have resorted to stalking him on social media. Interesting that he hasn’t put up any pictures of him and Collette, and his profile status is still listed as single. Trust me, I know because I checked it two days ago. It’s not hard to see why Collette Williams is itching to get her claws into Gavin, but why is he settling for her? Gavin could have anyone he wants. Too bad he doesn’t want me, my brain shouts.

  Gavin has always been a chick magnet, even back in high school. As if his looks and charming personality weren’t enough to seal the deal, he had the accolade of being a star athlete to boot. Now that he owns the local hardware store and a healthy share of rental property—both commercial and residential—his appeal is bound to shoot to the moon. An image of Gavin flashes through my mind. I’ve always loved the reckless vibe that Gavin’s dark-brown, messy hair gives him. Add to that his arresting honey-green eyes, rugged features, and quick smile, and it’s not hard to figure out why I’ve had a hard time getting over him. Gavin could always make me laugh. He taught me not to take myself too seriously. In short, I liked the person I was when I was with him.

  This is ridiculous! I can’t keep wallowing in self-pity. What did I expect? That I’d waltz back home and find Gavin waiting for me with open arms? That only happens in cheesy romance novels. This is no romance novel, and I’m certainly no heroine. I’m a washed-up fashionista wannabe with an over-zealous mother who couldn’t stay out of my business if her life depended on it.

  And now, like it or not, I’m about to alter the wedding dress of my high school archenemy who’s engaged to my former boyfriend, my biggest regret—the itch I never could scratch, the one man who shattered my heart into a thousand pieces and then walked out of my life without so much as a parting glance.

  “A fine morning this is turning out to be,” I growl as I stalk toward the shower.

  It’s time for this girl to wake up and face the truth. Gavin has officially moved on. Now I need to do the same. The question is … how?

  2

  Good grief, it’s only a pinprick

  When I slink down the steps, my hair still damp, I find Mom, Kitty, and Collette waiting for me in the den like vultures sharpening their claws.

  “There she is,” Mom gushes, in a voice that has the shrill edge of an opera singer off-key. She smiles in relief like she was afraid I was gonna make a run for the door rather than face this incredibly awkward situation she’s put me in.

  A syrupy smile drizzles over Kitty’s lips. “Well, hello. Welcome home, sugar,” she says grandly. Kitty is one of those country club women whose appearance and home look like a Pinterest post. Everything about her is disgustingly perfect in an I’m better than you, way. Collette looks fabulous as always with her long, platinum hair and even features. She’s tall and as skinny as a rail. Normally, I would consider Collette’s body size and type a blessing. After all, it’s relatively simple to fit a dress to someone who has a near-perfect figure. However, since it’s Collette we’re talking about, I can’t think of one good thing that could possibly come from this project.

  I press a tight smile over my face, the one I’ve used many times when dealing with difficult customers. “Hello,” I nod as I sit down in the nearest chair. I can feel Collette assessing me and have to fight the urge to scowl at her.

  “Thank you so much for taking us on last minute,” Kitty begins. “We had an appointment set up with Margaret Bradshaw, but she had to leave town suddenly when her sister passed away.”

  “That’s terrible about Margaret’s sister,” I mumble. While I don’t know Margaret super well, the town of Comfort is small enough that I know nearly everything about her. Her husband died a couple years prior, and her children are all grown and live in different states. At any rate, I feel sorry for her situation.

  “Yes, it is,” Kitty says absently like she couldn’t care less. Her flippant attitude about another person’s distress makes me dislike Kitty Williams even more. I can’t for the life of me understand why Mom puts up with her drama.

  Kitty purses her lips and adopts a piteous expression. “Your mother told me about the store closing and you losing your job. That must’ve been tough. You had such high hopes about conquering the world. You worked so hard and now here you are back home. I’m so sorry,” she purrs.

  Rather than answering, I pin Mom with a look that says, Do you seriously expect me to work for these people?

  Mom shoots me an apologetic look as nervous laughter trembles from her lips. Then her voice takes on the edge of a knife blade as she turns to Kitty. “Albany is one of the most talented and determined people I know. Yes, it’s been hard for her to come home, but I have no doubt that she’ll land on her feet.”

  Wow. Go, Mom!
I stifle a grin. Mom just put Kitty Williams in her place faster than the woman could blink. Maybe Mom has more fire in her belly than I thought.

  “Of course,” Kitty soothes as a cheery smile curves her lips. The smile is so wide that it probably would’ve filled her entire face had she not been injected with so much Botox. Kitty’s face is so set that not even an earthquake could jiggle her features.

  “Thanks,” I murmur, surprised by Mom’s compliment. It boosts my courage a little and prompts me to sit up taller in my seat. Will I land on my feet? I’ll certainly try.

  “If you’re looking for a job, Collette can put in a good word for you at the bank. She’s now the assistant manager,” Kitty finishes with a note of pride.

  I turn my attention to Collette and can tell from her smirk that I would be the last person she would ever put in a good word for. The two of us meet eyes. The grudge between us is as alive as it ever was—maybe even stronger than before. Except, this time, the tables are turned. Collette has the upper hand now because she’s marrying Gavin. She enjoys seeing me so low and dejected. She knows what it’ll cost me to alter her wedding dress. “If you work at the bank, then I’m surprised you’re here … during working hours.”

  “It’s my day off,” Collette replies stiffly.

  I don’t have to look at Mom to know that she’s giving me the evil eye. She hates it when I get confrontational. Rule number one of the Southern Belle’s handbook states that a woman should never cause a scene. You can be as catty as you please, but you must keep a smile fixed firmly on your face and level your jabs with genteel civility. “Thanks for the offer,” I say easily, “but I think I’ll strike out on my own with the alterations.” Yikes! Did I really say that? I don’t want to do alterations, but I refuse to let Collette Williams and her snooty mother get the best of me.

  This time, I dare to steal a glance at Mom. She gives me a look that says, Cut out the shenanigans. Mom’s right. I’m acting juvenile. There’s too much bad blood between me and Collette to behave in any other way. I’m finding it hard to believe that Collette would agree to have me alter her wedding dress, which makes me think that she’s here to rub her engagement to Gavin in my face. Well, her evil plan is working. I’m so green with envy that I could make The Wicked Witch of the West look pale in comparison. Okay, time to stop wallowing in pity and get this show on the road. “What do you need done?” I motion to the garment bag draped over Collette’s lap.

  “I need the dress taken in,” Collette sniffs.

  Kitty chuckles. “You can’t believe how hard it is to find a dress that’s small enough to fit Collette.” She cuts her eyes at me with a clear insinuation that I’m a blob of lard. Yeah, I get it. I’ve let myself go. I need to get back into shape, both physically and mentally.

  An awkward silence passes, and I realize that everyone is waiting for me to speak.

  “Sure, I can take the dress in,” I respond evenly. “What’s your timeframe? When’s the wedding?” I hold my breath, waiting for the answer. I’d like to know when the door will officially close on any last chance I have with Gavin. I know it’s silly for me to think in those terms because my chance with Gavin was gone a long time ago. He made sure of that when he broke up with me. Still, the knowledge hits me square between the eyes like a sledgehammer that my idiotic heart has been holding out hope that somehow the two of us might get back together.

  Kitty and Collette look at one another. “As soon as possible,” Kitty answers.

  I’ve never wanted to be a mind reader more than I have at this very moment. What silent information just passed between Kitty and Collette? I sniff out the chink in their armor like a hound dog on the trail of a rabbit. “Have you not set a date?” Hope kindles in my breast. Maybe Gavin is stalling.

  Color rushes to Collette’s face. Her fair complexion makes her look like she’s the spawn of a tomato. She clasps her hands in her lap. “We haven’t set a date yet.”

  I make a face. “Really? Hmm … that’s interesting.”

  Rage ignites over Collette’s perfect features. Her words come out in a hiss. “Just what do you mean by that?”

  Victory swells in my chest. A-ha! Collette still rises easily to the bait. Evidently, she never learned the first rule of Southern Belle etiquette about not causing a scene. Mom starts blinking fast like she’s about to pass out. “Albany,” she cautions as she touches her hair. “That’s enough.”

  “I asked you a question,” Collette demands through clenched teeth.

  If Collette wants an answer, then by golly she’s gonna get it. Right here. And right now. My voice goes sugary sweet. “I only meant that Gavin can be elusive. The fastest way to send him running for the hills is to try and pin him down.” I know that from sad experience.

  “I beg your pardon,” Kitty inserts as she throws me a scalding glare before placing a reassuring hand over Collette’s.

  I shrug. “You wanted an answer, so I gave you one.”

  Kitty turns to Mom. “I thought you said that Albany has changed.”

  For a second, I can’t believe my ears. Has my mother really thrown me under the bus? I take one look at her sheepish expression and know it’s true. “Seriously? You told her that?” My voice rises, but I don’t care. “As if there was something wrong with me before?” I rub a hand over my forehead, disgusted with the whole situation. “You know what? This isn’t gonna work. You’ll have to get someone else to alter the dress.”

  “There is no one else,” Kitty protests, her voice fluttering with panic.

  I rise to my feet, but Mom holds out her hand. “Albany, calm down.” Her voice is firmer than the mattress at my New York apartment. “Sit back down, and let’s discuss this like rational adults. Kitty and Collette need the dress altered. You need a job. Just tell them your price.”

  A hysterical giggle chokes my throat. “This is insane.”

  “How much will you charge?” Mom demands.

  I do a quick mental calculation and then tack on twenty percent for the pain-in-the-neck fee. “Eight-hundred-and-seventy-five dollars.”

  Kitty’s eyes bulge. “That’s outrageous. Margaret was only charging us two-thirty-five.”

  I flash a tight smile. “Well, since you don’t have a date set for the wedding, maybe you should just wait until Margaret returns, so she can do the alteration.”

  Mom gives me a pleading look. “Really? Is eight-hundred-and-seventy-five dollars the lowest you can go? Be reasonable.”

  It’s not about the money. It’s the principle of the situation. “Yep, that’s it,” I clip.

  “When can you have it done?” Kitty asks.

  Dang it! I was hoping the high price would be enough to make Kitty change her mind. Evidently not. The woman is as relentless as my mother … maybe more so. “I would estimate two to three weeks, but I won’t know for sure until Collette tries the dress on, so I can see what I’m dealing with.”

  “Okay,” Kitty sighs resolutely. “Let’s do it.”

  “Let’s go downstairs to the workroom,” Mom says.

  It sounds so official to hear mom say workroom when referring to the combination exercise and craft room. Before I left for New York, I used the space as a workroom, but that was eons ago. The good news is that my old sewing machine is still down there. I guess I’ll have to brush off the dust and hope the dinosaur still works. When we get to the basement, I motion to the bedroom located off to the side. “You can change in there.”

  “I’ll help,” Kitty says as she and Collette go into the bedroom.

  The second they close the door, Mom whirls around. “What’s the matter with you?” she seethes.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I snip as I lift my chin.

  “I’m trying to help you, and you’re throwing it in my face.”

  “Did you really think that I would be okay with doing the alterations on Collette Williams’ dress?” I feel my face go flush. “She and I can’t stand each other.”

  Mom raises an eyeb
row. “This has nothing to do with an old grudge. You still have feelings for Gavin.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I spit. “I couldn’t care less what Gavin McAllister does.” I jerk my thumb toward the door. “If he wants to marry that bird-brained twit, then so be it.”

  Mom shakes her head, a look of weariness settling over her. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

  I can almost read Mom’s mind. She thinks I’m an odd duck and wishes I was more like my childhood best friend Penelope Primrose, whom I used to tease about being practically perfect in every way. “It’s not your job to fix everything!”

  “Keep your voice down,” Mom warns.

  I take in a quick breath, fighting to keep my voice even. “You and I both know that this isn’t gonna end well with Collette. She won’t be pleased with my work, no matter what I do.”

  “Give her a chance to prove you wrong,” Mom urges. “I think you may be happily surprised.” She steels her jaw. “And for the record, you don’t need Gavin McAllister. You’re much better off without him.”

  I know how Mom’s brain works. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. She’s trying to make me feel better about Gavin, take away the sting from him dumping me. “Yes,” I say dully. “You’re right.”

  The door opens, and Collette and Kitty emerge. My eyes pop when I see Collette’s wedding dress. It’s exquisite—a designer vintage style that probably cost more than I could make in a year doing alterations. Well, the dress would be exquisite if it weren’t hanging on Collette. Kitty’s right. Except for her boobs, Collette is a toothpick. I don’t think I’ve ever been that skinny. Not even when I was twelve. For better or worse, my figure is curvy. It dings through my brain that Collette didn’t have boobs in high school. She’s always been straight as a board. I don’t have to be a brainchild to know that she’s had a boob job. From the looks of Collette’s sculpted nose, I’d say she’s also had a nose job. While there are things about my body that I’m not crazy about, I’m one hundred percent natural … right down to my well-endowed chest. And I have the larger arms and wider back to prove it. Women with naturally larger chests have the framework to hold them up.