Always the Designer, Never the Bride (5 page)

"No," she replied in a whisper. "A million years ago to me."

Carly squeezed her closer and kissed Audrey's cheek.

With their arms locked, they strolled the length of the hall, pausing at each grouping of photographs.

"When do your folks arrive?" Audrey asked when they stopped in front of the family photo of Carly and her parents.

"Dad arrives the afternoon of the wedding, and he leaves the very next morning."

"And your mom?"

"She's not coming."

Audrey turned toward her and frowned. "She's not coming?"

"She and my dad have been divorced for five years, and the two of them haven't been in the same vicinity one time since."

"But her daughter's wedding? I'm sorry, Caroline."

"She doesn't see it as my real wedding anyway. You know my mom. She says this is just my big after-the-fact waste of money and energy."

"Has she met you?"

Carly chuckled, and they inched down the hall a bit farther to another grouping of photographs. "Devon's so handsome in his dress blues, isn't he? He's going to wear them at the wedding. Did I tell you that?"

"No. But that sounds like a nice idea."

"Sherilyn has been researching military weddings, and she's got things planned down to the tip of the swords."

"Swords?"

"Yeah." Carly shrugged. "It's a tradition."

"I guess I hadn't realized how 100 percent military he is," Audrey admitted.

"Oh, yeah! He's United States Marine, through and through," Carly confirmed. "But then I think every Marine is. Devon says he bleeds scarlet and gold." She paused before tilting her head to Audrey's shoulder with a sigh. "I just hope he never proves it. With the bleeding, I mean."

"Me too." Audrey ruffled Carly's hair, leaving her friend's head where it rested. "You must go out of your mind when he's over there."

"I hold my breath the minute he leaves, and I don't breathe again until he's back in my arms."

"You know," Audrey said, and Carly lifted her head and leaned against the wall, looking at her with misty eyes. "You and I talk all the time, but you never really told me how you felt when he went to Afghanistan. It must have been horrible. Why is that, Caroline? Why have we never talked about it?"

Several seconds ticked past while Carly thought it over. Finally, she said, "It's a private fear, I guess."

"It doesn't have to be."

They shared gentle, quiet smiles.

"You're always so pressed for time, Aud. Your life is nonstop. Waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, shaking with fear that I'll never see the man I love again—well, that just doesn't seem like something I can ask you to drop everything for and talk me through. Especially when it happens as often as it does."

"Oh, Carly."

Audrey's heart ached as she realized how tunnel-visioned she had become since moving to New York.

"I wish you were closer."

Audrey stopped herself from telling her friend that she may just get her wish. She wasn't going to be able to afford Soho much longer unless something drastic happened.

A sudden jingle drew their attention, and the two of them locked eyes for a moment.

"What is that?" they asked each other in unison.

"It sounds like—"

"Ohh!" Audrey exclaimed, and she pulled the cell phone from the pocket of her trousers.

"Wait just a minute.
You
have a . . .
cell phone?"

"I know. Boggles the mind, doesn't it?"

"Well, yeah. A little bit."

The green light blinked beneath the screen.

Kat calling.

"Sorry. I have to take this."

"It's okay. Step into the office if you want to. I'll finish getting dinner on the table."

Audrey leaned into the doorway and pressed the green button, pointing the phone toward her mouth. "Hey, Kat. Did you hear from Kim?"

"Hold it like a telephone, Audrey."

"What?" She examined the cell for a moment before plunking it against her ear. "Are you there?"

"I'm here."

"Did you hear from Kim?"

The silence that followed screamed.

"Oh, no."

"I'm sorry, Audrey. She doesn't feel like you heard her. She says the sketches don't reflect her personality at all."

Audrey groaned slightly and closed her eyes, leaning back against the doorjamb.

"She did say she'd be willing to meet with you one more time, but I told her you were at your friend's wedding in Atlanta."

Audrey's heart throbbed in her chest. The sensation felt almost painful.

"She said she wanted to see more of your work, and I showed her some photos of last year's show." Kat laughed as she added, "I mentioned what a beautiful job you did on Carly's dress, and she asked to see it. I showed her the sketches and photos, and even though she loved the classic concept, she said it wasn't
three-dimensional
enough."

"Great."

"She actually offered to fly there to see it in person. Can you believe that? Uninvited, to a total stranger's wedding, just to get an eyeful of her gown?"

Audrey perked. "She did?"

"Audrey, no. Do not let Kim Renfroe interfere with your time there. Anyway, I said you'd be back in three days, but she doesn't want to—"

"I'll need you here too, Kat."

"What? You want me to come to Atlanta?"

"Yes. I want you to take the first plane out tomorrow, and make sure Kim doesn't come in until the morning of the wedding. That way, we can brainstorm, and you can free me up to do some sketches. I can be really prepared to wow her this time. You said she responded to the classic concept? She didn't communicate that to me at all, but—"

"Audrey, you do realize that there's probably a snowball's chance in a sauna that anyone is going to live up to the expectations this girl has, right? It's not even possible to please her!"

"She has a twenty thousand dollar-budget for her dress, Kat. She's got every media network in the country lining up to get photographs of her wedding day. The exposure alone could . . . Kat, it's the perfect storm for my circumstances. Dressing Kim Renfroe on her wedding day could solve all of my immediate problems."

"Audrey. I don't know."

"Call her and tell her to book a flight. I'll make hotel reservations at The Tanglewood for both of you. Get here as early as you can tomorrow, and have her come in the day after."

"You're sure?"

"Look, Kat. I'm hanging by a thread here. I have to take this one last shot. I haven't wanted to say this to you, but—"

"Audrey, I know."

She gulped around the lump in her throat. "You do?"

"I handle every piece of business on your plate. You think I haven't noticed that you're overextended?" Audrey nibbled the corner of her bottom lip without reply. "What about Carly?"

"Leave Carly to me. You just get Kim on that plane." She started to end the call, then caught herself. "Oh! Wait. And bring something fifties for us each to wear, will you?"

"Fifties?"

"Yeah, you know. Pink ladies and sock hops. We have to go to a fifties diner place tomorrow night for Carly and Devon. Everyone wears a costume, and I didn't pack anything for it."

"Fun!" Kat exclaimed, but Audrey just groaned and folded the cell phone shut.

She'd barely disconnected the call when she noticed J. R. standing at the end of the hall, and she jumped. "Oh, good grief. You scared me half to death."

"Sorry," he said, nervously tugging at the cuff of his longsleeved T-shirt bearing a Harley-Davidson logo. "I didn't want to interrupt. Is everything all right?"

"No, actually," she admitted as she tucked the cell phone back into her pocket. "But I'm hoping for a reprieve."

"Anything I can do?"

"Afraid not, unless you have some influence over Kim Renfroe."

"The hotel magnate's daughter?"

The way he narrowed his eyes and looked at her as if she'd lost her mind made Audrey wonder for a moment if she actually had.

"Yes. Never mind. Anyway, I didn't know you would be here tonight."

"I'm staying here at the house with my brother while you and Carly play up the bride-to-be angle over at The Tanglewood."

"Oh." Why hadn't she thought about that? "Of course."

"Carly has dinner just about ready."

"Okay. I'll be out in a minute."

He was doing it again. Just standing there, looking at her.

Audrey sighed. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to do that?" she asked him spontaneously.

"Do what?"

"Gawk at a woman like you've never seen one before. It's quite unnerving."

"I don't think I was gawking exactly."

"Well, your thinking is all wrong then. Because you are. You did it at lunch, and now you're standing there doing it again. Cut it out."

J. R. shook his head slightly, and the corner of his mouth twitched as if flexing hard to hold back laughter. And he didn't move a muscle to get out of her way, or to stop the gawking either.

"Do you mind?"

And with that, he simply raised a hand in surrender, heaved a sigh, and turned away. At the end of the hall, he turned back toward her for a moment.

"I'll be there in just a minute," she snapped.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Okay."

"Okay.

"Aud?"

Audrey glanced up from her sketch pad to find Carly standing in the middle of the arched doorway leading to the bedroom of the hotel suite.

"What are you doing? Can't you sleep?"

"No. I had a surge of adrenaline shoot through me, and I had to come out here and try to get some of my thoughts down on paper."

Carly padded across the thick carpet toward her. She looked like that eight-year-old Audrey used to know with her hair twisted into a messy ponytail at the top of her head and wearing pink cotton pajamas with large red strawberries all over them.

"Is that for her?" she asked, peering over her shoulder at the sketch pad. "For Kim Renfroe?"

"I'm trying to give her some more options," she replied, dotting the skirt of the gown on the page before her. "She told Kat she likes the classic style of your dress, but she made it clear from the beginning that she insists on a lot of bling."

"Contradict much?"

Audrey chuckled. "Listen, I'm really sorry about cutting dinner so short earlier."

"No worries. But you know . . . I still can't believe Kim Renfroe is coming to my wedding. Isn't that weird?"

"Well, she doesn't have to come to the wedding, Carly. She just wants to see you in your gown. We can do that before you walk down the aisle."

"I don't mind if she comes to the wedding. It's kind of funny, that's all."

Audrey continued to put the finishing touches on the sketch, her eyes burning with the desire for sleep.

"Come on back to bed."

Carly extended her hand toward Audrey and just stood there until she took it. She led her friend across the sitting room and into the bedroom, releasing her hand and crawling across the length of the king-sized bed, collapsing into the pile of fluffy bright-white pillows on her side of it.

"C'mon," she said, patting the mattress beside her. "I'll tell you a story like I used to when we were kids. Remember that?"

Audrey nodded and climbed up into the bed. "You would walk me through Barbie and Ken's upcoming wedding in minute detail, from the fabric draping to the candles and flowers." Yawning, she added, "You've always had such a great sense of style, Caroline. Very imaginative."

"That's what makes me a perfect kindergarten teacher, right?"

She nodded sleepily. "Mm-hm."

"One of my students is just like I was at that age. Her name is Courtney, and she makes stages out of cardboard boxes, covering them in fabric or contact paper. She draws little designs on them and uses her dolls to act out these really involved little plays for the kids in the class—"

And as Carly chattered on, the sound of her voice sang Audrey into a lyrical sort of peace. Her words began to swirl and run into one another until nothing but blessed silence emerged, ushering Audrey downward to full-on sleep as Carly smoothed her hair and talked softly.

"I'd forgotten how you never sleep," her friend halfwhispered. And those were the last words Audrey heard.

When she awoke, the other side of the massive bed sat empty. A bright ray of sunshine poked through the window like stretched-out fingers, pointing out a spot in the middle of the bedroom floor. Audrey surveyed her surroundings as a chorus of birds tweeted out a happy morning greeting from beyond the glass. The blue Atlanta sky grinned at her, slowmoving cottonball clouds shifting across it, and the fragrance of brewing coffee perked up her nostrils and drew her to her feet and into the living room.

"Good morning!"

She rubbed her eyes. "Kat?"

"Yes, Kat. Gee, how soon they forget."

"What time is it?"

"Ten-thirty," she replied. "Whatever Atlanta has in the water to get you to sleep longer than five hours, we need to bottle some and take it home with us."

"How long have you been here?" she asked, accepting the mug of creamed coffee her assistant offered.