Three Weddings and a Dress (8 page)

“I didn’t see a ring.” Joy chimed in.

Skye snorted. “You don’t need to wear a ring to be married.”

“He’s not married. I just think Cecie has bigger things to worry about, like making sure father Wilson doesn’t discover her plans too soon.” Fanny raised a brow daring anyone to disagree.

Skye lounged on the cushions across from Cecelia. Leaning forward almost touching noses with Fanny her finger nudged her boney chest. “Not on my watch he’s not. We are going to make sure that doesn’t happen. There’s four of us watching Cecie’s back. We’ve made a pact.”

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me. I’m just saying she can play with fire
after
she’s out of the frying pan for a while. And things settle down,” Fanny grumbled. Then folded her arms over her tummy and glared out the window.

Intrigued, Cecelia spit her question out before she could stop herself. “Why do you say I’d be playing with fire?”

Fanny’s glare shifted first to Skye, she raised a brow, then her attention landed full force on Cecelia. “Maybe some time I’ll tell you.”

That hadn’t helped. Now she was more curious than ever. Disappointment settled in her gut at the realization that she had more important things to consider than the handsome club owner.

She was playing a dangerous game with her father. He wasn’t used to losing. When his daughter outwitted him, the aftershock just may shake the
Top of the Rock
atop the Rockefeller building.

Completely sober now, Cecelia contemplated the prospect of hoodwinking the great Broderick Wilson. Snuggling her butt into the rich leather, she leaned forward. “Let’s make sure nothing can go wrong. Joy and Rae you’re parts are a done deal…”

“Not yet, you still need to follow through with the paperwork on your name change.” Joy pulled her purse onto her lap and riffled through it until she extracted a paper. “You can move in as early as tomorrow, you need to bring the proof you’ve started the process. Since you didn’t want to write a check, you need to bring cash for the deposit, first and last month’s rent.”

Cecelia waved her concerns off. “Fanny and I will be at 111 Centre Street when they open with my sixty-five dollars. I’m quoting from the instructions, don’t forget its exact change and cash only.”

“And a few minutes before five, Cecie will be at the bank closing the account. I’ll have opened up a safe deposit box at mine, where I’ll put the cash in, minus what’s needed for the leasing company.” Skye finished the itinerary for the next day.

“Simple.” Rae clapped her hands. “Tomorrow evening, we’ll all be on our best behavior at the rehearsal dinner. And the next day, while we stall at the church, you’ll be across town moving into your new life.”

Dear Diary;

Rehearsal Day

Unease ruffled over my ribbons as I watched Cecelia toss and turn. It had been like this all through the night. As if she knew something might stop her from following her
real
dream. I’d doze myself then her mumbling would startle my satin and I’d wake with a start.

I met the BFFs last night when they returned from the bachelorette party. I have never been so relieved. Not that I’ve been created long enough to have experienced much. When Miss Cecelia walked through the door unharmed by her dangerous spiked shoes, my bolero expanded in relief.

I liked Joy the best, she was very soft spoken, totally opposite of the others. Skye was a little scary. Then Cecie, as her friends called her, could also be intimidating when she put her mind to it.

I was privy to some of the plans for today. To say I’m concerned would be an understatement. I hope everything goes as planned.

Sorrow wrinkles my bodice when I think of all that could go wrong with their plans. Sometimes I feel as if Heidi designed me only to be frustrated with my limited communication. What good am I, if I can’t warn my bride when she’s set on a course that could spell disaster?

My chapel train quivered knowing I wouldn’t be at the dinner to watch and protect my Cecie.

Cecie? Yes, I now think of her as a trusted friend.

When did I grow to care so much about this human? She isn’t my soul mate. My silk would never have the chance to wrap her body and quake in delight as the sacred words were spoken to join her with her true love.

I love her and I want her to have the best life ever. If only…
  

Chapter Five
 

 
Warmth cocooned her. Snuggling in deeper, Cecelia tried to recapture the dream of deep green, sexy, eyes. Her subconscious was not having any part of it. There was some reason she needed to wake.

Something very important.

Bolting to a sitting position, she glared at the bedside clock. The damn thing said nine. That was the time she was to meet Fanny. “Shit!”

Startled she stared at Bella, had the dress shuddered at her swearing? No. Jeez, now she was imagining things. As she walked past the shimmering dress on her way to the bathroom, she swore it subtly turned following her as if the beads were a million eyes.

Sometimes Bella was too real, and it was a bit creepy.

Cecelia loved that dress. Could she take the dress with her? Maybe she could keep the beautiful garment for when her day did come.

The thought of the gown yellowing in a closet until she was ready to settle down made her too sad. On impulse, she pivoted on her heel to return to Bella. She laid a hand on the edge of the lace on the bolero.

No. She did not feel the material jolt.

Nerves, that’s what it had to be.

She swallowed, still a little weirded out. “Bella, something about you is magical and I really do promise to have Carla send you back to Heidi’s. Okay?”

As she continued on her way to the bathroom, she glanced over her shoulder. Did Bella just say ‘okay’?

After her shower, the cobwebs cleared from her mind. She realized it must have been the leftover effects of the several shots she’d consumed the night before.

Make a note to self to remember that in the future.

Before she could meet Fanny, she had to figure out where to stow her bags. After all, she was leaving on her honeymoon. Her parents wouldn’t think anything when they saw her bags. Her furniture would have to stay behind. Later after the dust settled she hoped to be allowed to move some things.

Somehow, she didn’t see Broderick allowing that.

Distress tightened her already shaky tummy. She’d miss her mother, though they weren’t close. Her father she didn’t know. A short laugh bounded around the room. She saw her father every day at the office, yet he was still a stranger. How sad was that?

The minute hand tripped toward the thirty-minute mark. Fanny was going to shoot her. Did she dare leave the bags to retrieve later?

No. With her luck, Chandler would pick them up before the dinner. Blowing her bangs out of her eyes with a sigh, she wondered where to take them?

Her phone jingled the theme song to
Friends
, indicating one of the BFFs. She needed to finish throwing stuff in her case, she pushed speaker, “Hello?”
  

 
“Where the hell are you?” Fanny’s frustrated shout ripped out over the room. “How can I watch your back if you’re not here?”

“I’m running late.”

“No shit. Come on you have a schedule to keep.”

“I know. I’m finishing my packing. I don’t dare leave my bags…”

A swift bump on the door, and it opened with a squeak. She’d forgotten to lock the damn thing. “Hello, Mother.”

“Who are you talking too?” Her mother looked around the room in bewilderment.

“Fanny, she’s on the phone.”

“Hi, Mrs. Wilson.” Fanny’s voice had turned to sugar.

Finally spotting Cecelia’s cell on the bed, her mother’s expression cleared. Her old-fashioned mother went to bend over the device and practically shouted at the phone. “Hello, Fanny.”

Then she straightened and smiled at Cecelia. “Father Oliver would like to meet with you and Chandler this afternoon before the dinner.”

A soft ‘shit’ echoed from the position of the still opened 3G lying on the bed. Her mother frowned for a split second in its direction.

“Why?” She stifled the shout that wanted to erupt and prayed the panic that crawled over her scalp didn’t show on her face.

Her mother’s attention switched from the phone to Cecelia. “What do you mean? Why? You’re getting married tomorrow, it’s normal for the priest to want to talk to both of you.”

“Father Oliver has talked to us several times. What more is there to say? He’s not going to give us the talk of the birds and the bees is he?”

She heard a soft snicker from Fanny, reminding her, her friend was listening. She didn’t care, in fact it was probably good. Fanny could help her get out of it.

“Cecie, I thought we were meeting with Skye at five about that surprise. You know?” Bless Fanny’s heart.

“What is she talking about?”

What? Glancing around her room for inspiration, the sun twinkled off Bella’s beads. “I have a surprise for you, Mother. You know a gift for both mothers?”

Now she’d have to stop one more place to pick something up. Her mother’s eyes had actually filled with tears. Something Cecelia hadn’t witnessed in a long time.

Guilt socked her smack in the mid-section.

Her mother sniffed. “You don’t need to do that. But it is thoughtful.”

“It’s already done.”
Please let her work with me here
.

“Couldn’t you do that earlier?”

“Sorry, I have an appointment set for when the surprise will be ready. And I have a full list of things to do before the dinner tonight.” She paused, filled her lungs with much needed air. She forced as much enthusiasm into her words as possible. “Have you forgotten, I’m getting married tomorrow and then we’re off on our honeymoon?”

Her mother didn’t answer for so long, Cecelia swore she could feel a streak of perspiration form on her upper lip. “Okay dear, I’ll tell Father Oliver that he’ll need to talk to you both after the dinner.”

Relief rushed over her, her knees lost strength and her bottom dropped on to the edge of the bed. “Thank you, Mom.”

At the door, her mother paused to turn, nodding toward the bags. “I’ll have Gordon put these by the front door, and Chandler can pick them up later.”

“Mrs. Wilson, Chandler called Joy and asked if she could do that since he had some errands to do himself.”

Her mother again paused, turned and returned to the bed to bend over to shout at the device again. “Are you sure?”

“Mother you don’t have to do that. It’s on speaker. Just talk natural.” Cecelia bit back her mirth at her mother’s expression of disbelief.

Her mother straightened a fraction lowered her tone in concession. “Thank you, Fanny. Tell Joy, Gordon will watch for her and help put them in the trunk.”

Cecelia stifled a groan, now they’d have to make sure Joy would pick the things up. She was going to have gray hair before her new life started.

With a final snap of the door, she was alone with her friend. “Fanny, this means you call Joy and I’ll finish this last bag.”

“Have you called your taxi?” Fanny’s voice sounded as frustrated with events as she felt.