Read Always the Designer, Never the Bride Online
Authors: Sandra D. Bricker
Always the Designer, Never the Bride
Always the
Designer,
Never the Bride
"
Always the Designer, Never the Bride
shows yet another angle of the journey from 'I think I love you' to 'I do' and all the side adventures that keep her readers begging, 'Tell me another story!' "
—C
YNTHIA
R
UCHTI
, radio personality and novelist, author of the Carol Award finalist
They Almost Always Come Home
"Sandra Bricker has done it again! Like every book in this series,
Always the Designer, Never the Bride
made me laugh, made me sigh, made me root for the heroine, and made me cry. No way I'm loaning this one out, because—gasp—what if it isn't returned!"
—L
OREE
L
OUGH
, best-selling author of more than 80 award-winning books, including reader favorite
From Ashes to Honor
Other Abingdon Press Books by Sandra D. Bricker
Always the Baker, Never the Bride
Always the Wedding Planner, Never the Bride
The Big 5-OH!
And coming soon . . .
Always the Baker,
Finally
the Bride
Always the
Designer,
Never the
Bride
Sandra D. Bricker
Nashville, Tennessee
Always the Designer, Never the Bride
Copyright © 2012 by Sandra D. Bricker
ISBN-13: 978-1-4267-3223-2
Published by Abingdon Press, P.O. Box 801, Nashville, TN 37202
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form,
stored in any retrieval system, posted on any website, or
transmitted in any form or by any means—digital,
electronic, scanning, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without
written permission from the publisher, except for brief
quotations in printed reviews and articles.
The persons and events portrayed in this work of fiction
are the creations of the author, and any resemblance
to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Published in association with WordServe Literary Group, Ltd.,
10152 S. Knoll Circle, Highlands Ranch, CO 80130
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bricker, Sandra D., 1958-
Always the designer, never the bride / Sandra D. Bricker.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-1-4267-3223-2 (book - pbk. / trade pbk. : alk. paper) 1.
Women fashion designers—Fiction. 2. Female friendship—Fiction. 3.
Weddings—Fiction. 4. Brothers—Fiction. 5. Atlanta (Ga.)—Fiction.
I. Title.
PS3602.R53A51 2012
813'.6—dc22
2011050025
Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright©
1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights
reserved.
Printed in the United States of America
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 / 17 16 15 14 13 12
Deepest thanks to my rock star agent and friend,
Rachelle Gardner.
Also to my editor Ramona Richards,
and to my cheerleading section:
Marian, Jemelle, Debby, and David.
And special thanks to Barbara for taking the lead
and rallying the troops. If one MUST have a near-
death experience, there's no one better to have by
your side. I'm forever indebted.
The next best thing to being wise oneself
is to live in a circle of those who are.
—C. S. Lewis
Table of Contents
Prologue
T
hat's not ivory, Granny. It's ecru."
"Is it?"
"Yes. And I needed crystal beads, not these iridescent ones. The crystal is much more showy, and I need them to make a statement."
Beatrice leaned forward in her rocking chair and smoothed the white-gold hair of her grandchild, perched like a bird at her feet. "Are you sure you're just nine years old?"
"Granny, please. Just help me look through these cases for the crystal beads? I knew not to let Carly alone in my room with my cases open. She must have mixed them all up."
She pushed two matching plastic boxes into her grandmother's lap. Beatrice flipped the latch on one of the pink gingham-patterned cases and tipped open the lid before glancing down at the little girl who seemed to be surrounded in light amidst hat boxes, organizers, and immaculate containers.
Audrey's innocent porcelain face crumpled like a grape left out in the sun as she continued her search. Without missing a beat, she raked back her spun-silk hair and fastened it with a pink sequined band. When she glanced up to find her grandmother watching her instead of engaged in the search, Audrey cocked her head to one side and heaved a laborious sigh.
"Granny? The crystal beads?"
Beatrice nodded, fingering through the separated compartments of the tray, each of them bearing a red vinyl label with raised white letters.
Glass beads.
Seed beads.
Sequins.
Beatrice, at the tender age of nine, hadn't known the first thing about various types of beads, much less having thought of asking for a label maker for her birthday to better differentiate them inside organized plastic cases! While Audrey's other nine-year-old friends played with accessories for their Barbies, she designed and created haute couture for every doll in town.
"Her wedding is scheduled for this Saturday afternoon," the child announced. "She can't get married without any crystal beads on her gown."
"Of course not," Beatrice sympathized.
"And Granny, will you make the wedding cake? We're going to have the ceremony here on the sun porch."
"I think I can do that," she replied, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly. "Oh, is this what you're looking for?"
She stuck out her hand, several shiny beads rolling on the palm.
Audrey's amber eyes ignited, and she gasped. "Granny, you're wonderful! Where did you find them?"
"The second tier. Under these thingies." She tapped one of the compartments with the tip of her finger.
"Thingies!" Audrey said, chuckling. "Those
thingies
are just the last of my wooden barrel beads. I used them on the bracelet I made Carly for her birthday, remember?"
"I think I do." She nodded. "Yes, that's right."
"Once this wedding is behind me, I'm going to have to go through every one of my cases to put everything back in its right place."
"Yes, I suppose you can't have shiny sequins in a compartment marked as something else."
"You can see what a disaster that could be, can't you, Granny?"
"Clearly."
Audrey took the cases from Beatrice's lap with caution, gingerly setting them on the carpeted floor beside her.
"That Carly," she muttered as she began plucking crystal beads from the tray. "Sometimes she's like a gorilla at a tea party."
1
A
udrey, the car will be here any minute. You're going to miss your plane."
"Shh. I just need another minute."
She leaned down over her sketch pad, nibbling the corner of her lip as she put the finishing touches on the train of an elaborate A-line wedding dress.
"Oh, Audrey! That's beautiful. Is it for Kim?"
She didn't reply for another moment or two; not until she felt perfectly secure in the fact that she could lay down her pencil and be done with it.
"There are two others in the leather portfolio in my closet. The messenger will be here at three o'clock to pick them up and get them into Manhattan by four." She handed her assistant the finished product, pausing for an instant to admire the drawing. "Be very careful about it, but put this one with the others, and be sure to zip it all the way around so they aren't wrinkled. Just give him the whole case, and call Kim once he's on his way to give her a heads-up that they'll be delivered to the penthouse."
"Will do."
"My plane lands in Atlanta at five-something, and it will take me an hour or so to get out to Roswell where this hotel is located. You've shipped—"
"And confirmed. Carly's dress is safe and sound at The Tanglewood Inn, awaiting your arrival."
Audrey sighed as she cast a quick glance toward the door where Kat had lined up her pink plaid luggage. One oversized rectangular case and one large round one, both on wheels, both packed to full capacity.
Audrey applied a glaze of Cherry Bliss to her lips while Kat added the final sketch to the leather case. She paused with the wand in mid-air until she heard the
vvhht
of the zipper. As she slipped the tube into its compartment inside her purse, the buzzer sounded.
"That will be your car," Kat announced. "But before you go . . ."
Kat grabbed Audrey's hand and placed a compact little cell phone into it, closing her fingers around it. "Now this is the simplest cellular phone available."
"Kat, I do not want one of these. I told you that."
"I know. But you have to."
Audrey stared at the strange thing on her palm. "What do I do?"
"If it jingles, you open it. Like this." Kat demonstrated. "It will either be a phone call—in which case you press the blinking green button—or a text, which will come up automatically."
"Ah, maaan . . ."
"I know. But it's the best way to keep in contact. You want to keep in contact with me, don't you?"
Audrey groaned. "Yes."
"So put this in your purse."
Audrey reluctantly tossed the thing into her bag as Kat pressed buttons on her own much more complicated-looking cell phone. An instant later, Audrey's purse began to . . .
sing.
"It sounds like a harp."
"That's your cue to pull it out and open it." Kat stared at her for a moment before nodding at Audrey's purse. "Go on. Answer it."
"I already know who it is."
"Audrey."
Audrey groaned again as she produced the cell phone, unfolded it and stared at the thing.
"The green button," Kat prodded.
Audrey pressed the button and held the phone in the vicinity of her ear. "Audrey Regan isn't available right now, but please feel free to take a flying leap at the tone." As Kat opened her mouth to reply, Audrey interrupted with a "
Beeeeeep."
Kat shook her head as she pushed the button on the wall intercom and she told the driver, "Come on in. We have a couple of bags." Back to Audrey, she remarked, "Text me when you arrive. Do you want me to show you how?"