Catching Claire (5 page)

His mouth quirked. “Ashamed of me?”

“Not on your life.”

“Then let me come in with you. You look like you’re
about to walk the plank.”

“Tanya’s mother has that effect on people. And…I
love Tanya, but she’s been a bit of a Bridezilla lately. Her mom’s
anxiety is rubbing off on her.”

“So, let Mrs. Helms see you walk in with the
stripper from the party. Her head will implode.”

“How will she know you’re the stripper?”

“Ten-to-one someone will fill her in.”

Claire’s heart beat as rapidly as hummingbird wings.
She could really fall for this guy. “Okay.”

They grabbed her purse and the helmets. Together,
they entered the ritzy salon, which featured six private dressing
rooms and a central runway. Claire directed Ridge toward a fancy
white reception desk.

“The Helms-Winslow wedding,” she requested. “I’m the
maid of honor.”

The receptionist eyed Ridge. “This way, please.”

He carried the helmets as the woman escorted them to
Tanya’s salon. In the halls, stylists hustled back and forth
collecting gowns from the racks for their assigned brides.

The receptionist led them into a room packed with
Tanya’s bridal party decked in dresses in hues of fuchsia, coral,
goldenrod, and tangerine—Tanya’s “sunset” colors. Janie, Alicia,
and Tanya’s two petite younger sisters surrounded Tanya at a
brightly lit mirror. Meanwhile, a red-faced Mrs. Helms adorned in a
tailored skirt suit attempted to corral Teacup, Tanya’s airheaded
Yorkie. Teacup’s rhinestone barrette bounced as the dog yipped at
the hem of Tanya’s beautiful wedding gown.

Tanya sobbed into mirror, “It’s all wrong, it’s all
wrong, it’s all wrong!”

Ridge’s face whitened. “This is nuts,” he
whispered.

Claire lifted her eyebrows. “
This
is estrogen
overload.” She sat him on the velvet bench closest to the door. As
he placed the helmets on the floor, she said, “My advice? Don’t
breathe a word.” Dropping her purse and jacket onto the bench
beside him, she bee-lined for her best friend.

Tanya caught Claire’s reflection in the mirrors.
“Claire! Finally!”

Tanya’s perfectly coiffed mother snatched up Teacup.
Mrs. Helms whirled on Claire. In the next instant, the woman’s gaze
winged to Ridge.

“Who’s
that
?” Mrs. Helms demanded.

Claire smiled. “My friend, Ridge.”

Janie’s eyes popped. “The stripper!”

“From my party!” Tanya hooted.

Mrs. H. shrieked, “You brought a
stripper
to
my baby’s fitting?”

The sisters gasped. One whispered to the other, “No
wonder we weren’t invited to the second shower. It was a
tacky-fest.”

“The party was just supposed to be Tanya’s friends,”
Janie explained.

Mrs. Helms stormed toward Claire. Alicia, lifting
her goldenrod skirt, intercepted the woman. Gripping Teacup, Mrs.
H. heeled around so sharply she would have done a marching soldier
proud. She strode to Ridge.

Alicia murmured to Claire, “Sorry about the ride.”
She glanced at Ridge. “My assistant screwed up the cupcakes for a
thirtieth anniversary party tonight. I had to re-do them.”

Mrs. Helms deposited the excited Yorkie on Ridge’s
lap. “Make yourself useful.”

His mouth firmed, but he held the squirming dog.

Mrs. Helms’s sharp gaze landed on Claire. “At least
tell me you brought your sandals.” She planted her hands on petite
hips.

Claire’s heart sank. In the flurry of throwing on
her clothes after Tanya’s frantic phone call, both she and Ridge
had forgotten her footwear. But she wasn’t five years old. She
wouldn’t allow Mrs. H. to treat her like the insecure child she’d
once been.

She squared her shoulders. “I left the sandals in
Ridge’s apartment.”

“But I gave your stuff to Lacey,” Alicia said.

“Ridge fetched the bags for me while I took a
shower.”

Tanya’s youngest sister smirked. “You showered with
a stripper?”

Claire glared at Tammy.
“No.”
She’d rectify
that soon enough—if Ridge wanted her.

Mrs. H. sighed. “You forgot the sandals. How will we
know the proper length to hem your dress?” She beckoned the stylist
hovering in the background. “Alberta! Plan B.”

Alberta selected a coral gown from a rack by the
wall and pressed the garment into Claire’s hands. The shiny fabric
scrunched.

“Get dressed,” Mrs. H. ordered Claire. “You can
borrow Tammy’s sandals.”

“But my dress is purple.”

“Not anymore.” Mrs. H. collected the sandals from
Tammy. “I doubt you’d fit the purple, dear. You were supposed to
lose ten pounds for the wedding, not gain five.” She piled the
sandals atop the coral dress.

Claire’s face burned. She hurried into the dressing
room. Ridge called after her as she slammed the flimsy door.

She couldn’t face him. Couldn’t face any of
them.

But she had to.

Steeling herself, she changed in record time and
turned to the mirror.

Blech.
The coral made her skin look sallow,
and the cut of the dress mismatched the others—it had no waist.
Plus, the yards of fabric could easily clothe Tanya, Claire,
and
Tanya’s mom.

The nerve of Mrs. H.!

Claire clomped out of the dressing room in the
pinching sandals. “This damn dress is three sizes too big!”

Tanya’s face caved in. “Now you know my problem. I
lost too much weight!”

And Claire had lost five pounds. She’d
lost
them; she hadn’t gained them.

Mrs. H. soothed her daughter. “Tanya, sweetheart,
we’ll have the gown taken in. It’s just a half-inch at the
hips.”

“But what about Claire? She loves purple. She’s my
maid of honor. She should wear a special color.”

For Tanya’s special day. Claire blew out a breath.
This wedding wasn’t about
her
.

“I’m sorry I was late,” she said, hugging her best
friend. “We can fix this.”

A sharp whistle rent the air.
Ridge!
He’d
slipped her mind.

Carrying Teacup, he strode into the midst of the
chattering women and dumped the yipping Yorkie into Mrs. H’s arms.
“You are the rudest person I’ve ever met,” he said.

“Well.” Mrs. H. huffed. “I’m not the one who went
crawling after a stripper.”

His face hardened. “Claire didn’t crawl after me.
She had too much to drink, and I took care of her. Which is more
than I can say for—” He pointed at Alicia. “You.”

Alicia gaped. “Me?”

“The party was at your apartment. That makes you at
least partially responsible for how much alcohol was consumed. You
allowed your friend to play bartender the entire evening. You had
to notice how sloshed she was, but you left her alone.”

“I thought she’d fall asleep right away.”

“
Alone.”
He turned to Tanya. “You need to
dial it down.”

Claire stuck up a hand. “Wait a minute.”

“I can’t. The woman I met last night goes after what
she wants. The woman I thought I was getting to know this morning
stands up for herself. Claire, you’re beautiful, you’re strong, and
you deserve a hell of a lot more consideration than you’re getting
from your friends here today. If you want to escape this lunacy,
I’ll be outside.” He returned to the bench and grabbed the
helmets.

All the women, including the stylist, watched in
silence as he left, boots thudding down the hall.

Tanya’s mother patted Teacup’s head. “What an ass.”
Mrs. H. looked at Claire. “If we take in the coral six inches
either side, that dress will look very nice.”

Claire gritted her teeth. “I can fit the
purple.”

“Maybe so.” A hint of resignation threaded Mrs. H.’s
voice. “However, I’m thinking a
different
style for the maid
of honor will help you stand out.”

Tanya shook her head. “Claire gets the purple. My
wedding, my say.” She clasped Claire’s hand. “The purple looks
gorgeous on you, and your friendship is golden to me. Now,
g
o after Ridge. He’s obviously
into you. We’ll hem your dress ourselves tomorrow, if that works
for you. Together. Like the best buds we are.”

“
Aw,
Tanya.
”

They hugged
again. The other bridesmaids murmured their approval. Even Tanya’s
mother looked contrite.

“
It’s true,
dear,” Mrs. H. said. “The man did appear besotted. He had the balls
to confront me, and that’s something.”

Claire glanced
around at the women. This wedding was driving everyone crazy. But
it wouldn’t ruin her chances with Ridge.

Wearing Tammy’s
sandals,
she hobbled to
the bench, retrieved her jacket and purse, and hurried after
him.

“The dress!” Alberta
called.

“
My shoes!”
Tammy cried.

Mrs. Helms’s
voice carried down the hall
, “Hush, Tams. Claire will return the sandals to Tanya
tomorrow. And, Alberta? That dress—I asked for the next size up,
not a tent.”

Stuffing her
arms into her jacket,
Claire raced out of the salon. Ridge sat on the rumbling
motorcycle with his back to her. The helmets rested on the sidewalk
near his boot.

“
Ridge!”
Catching up to him, she placed
her hand on his muscular forearm. His head turned. “Sorry about
that zoo,” she said. “Now you know why men just like to show up at
weddings. Planning them is the pits.”

He
grinned
. “You came after
me in that dress?”

“
I’d run after
you naked. The wedding is two weeks away. Tanya’s stressed.” She
paused. “We’ve been best friends forever. She usually treats me
like a sister. And her mom…” She shook her head. “Mrs. Helms
doesn’t intimidate me anymore.”
Claire
was responsible for how she perceived herself. Not her
deadbeat biological father. Not the bullies in high school. And not
Tanya’s mom. “Her husband left her for a younger woman when the
girls were little. She became a control freak.”

He shrugged. “Hey, I get it. Nobody’s perfect. I’ve
been told my dick’s too long.”

Claire laughed.

“Seriously. The last girl found
it
intimidating.” He touched her cheek. “And she hasn’t been around
for a long time, Claire.”

“Then I look forward to learning about your dick
myself...after a few dates.”

“No more definitely tonight?” he asked.

Right. After their kiss at his apartment earlier,
she’d hinted at getting jiggy with him a lot sooner. “We might have
something special, Ridge. I’d like to wait.”

He patted the passenger seat. “Hop on.”

“A last favor.” She strapped her purse onto the
carrier. “I need a date for the wedding.”

“You want me to be your guest?” he asked as she
picked up the helmets.

“I’d like you to be more than that. But a plus-one
at Tanya’s wedding is a start.”

“Sounds great.” He kissed her, long and soulful,
while the motorcycle rumbled between them. “Where to?” He accepted
his helmet.

“My place, so I can change. Then you owe me
lunch.”

He chuckled. “I like this take-charge side of
you.”

Good. Because she liked it, too.

Claire strapped on her helmet, climbed up behind him
in the ugly coral dress, and bunched the heavy fabric around her
thighs. “Let’s go!”

The End

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As a child, Cindy dreamed of becoming a writer.
Well, okay, thanks to her grade three teacher reading a chapter of
The Little House on the Prairie books to Cindy’s class everyday,
Cindy actually dreamed of becoming Laura Ingalls Wilder. It made so
much sense. After all, Cindy’s blond older sister always got to
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Cindy earned a degree in English Lit from the
University of Victoria before unleashing herself on the
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to fluorescent lights and the numbers 9-2-5 wouldn’t gain her kudos
from her various bosses. Luckily, her husband whisked her to a tiny
logging town where she couldn’t find a job, unless you count a
stint as secretary to the warden of a minimum security prison.
There, Cindy began writing novels, and she hasn’t looked back.
Because, honestly, what other employer in their right mind would
want her?

Cindy’s mission in life is to see her surname
spelled properly—with an E. So take heed. That’s P-r-o-c-t-E-r.
Not, no, never, under any circumstances should you spell Procter
with two O’s. Cindy lives in British Columbia with her family, a
cat obsessed with dripping tap water, and Allie McBeagle.

Website –
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