Aimee opened it and looked down at an elderly seamstress, wearing a black apron with multiple pockets in the front. She wore three plastic tape measures strung around her neck like a stethoscope. She carried a small pad of paper and a pencil.
The woman spoke to Marlene in a Latino dialect. They exchanged information, and after, the diminutive lady nodded her head. She walked around Aimee, making notes, and then located a square stool that was hiding in the corner and placed it in the middle of the room. She motioned for Aimee to step up on it.
The seamstress’s gnarled fingers suffered from arthritis, with her third and fourth fingers on her right hand the most advanced. She slipped one of the tape measures off her neck and began making calculations, jotting down various lengths. Her quiet, deliberate movements made quick work of everything, and she was done in less than ten minutes.
Tucking the pencil behind her ear, the woman explained her findings to Marlene. She gave a sweet smile to Aimee and then let herself out.
“Come, come. Finish your cappuccino, and then let’s go see some dresses, shall we?”
As Marlene walked down the narrow space between overstuffed rows of beautiful gowns from sherbets to more vibrant colors, her fingers traced over the clear plastic zipper bags. Aimee soon realized that it could easily take her days to look at every beautiful dress.
“How in the world am I to decide?” Aimee asked.
“First, look at color. That’s the easiest decision. And then we have to decide whether you want a floor-length gown or mid-calf or knee.”
“You don’t categorize them by style?”
Marlene had a huge laugh at that suggestion. “Every gown is different, and because of all the beading and intricate decorative work, that would be impossible. So let me show you what we have in red. That’s a good place to start.”
They carefully passed through a forest of light pink and yellow dresses, having to turn sideways to navigate the narrow channel. The majority of these were wedding gowns, but as they turned the corner, Aimee was ushered into a large classroom sized-space that was lined with racks of red cocktail dresses and gowns of varying lengths. In the center were several project tables, littered with plastic trays containing sequins, pearls, and ribbon. One woman was stitching pearls and rhinestones onto the white bodice top to a wedding dress.
Aimee turned her attention to the stuffed rows of gowns, pulling out ones that were the true red color she had in mind. Marlene examined her choices, and began relocating similarly colored dresses to a portable clothes rack so she could try them on.
In the space of an hour, Aimee found a dress exactly like what she pictured in her mind. As she stood on a pedestal in front of an arc of mirrors, the seamstress came back in and pinned the length for her. Within minutes, the hem was cut and the skirt on its way to being finished off. The seamstress made a note to adjust the waist by taking the fabric in nearly an inch.
Marlene handed her a strip of fabric that had been removed from the gown, and motioned for her to come up to the front of the store.
“What’s this for?” Aimee asked.
“I’m going to have you pay for the dress now, and you can take that fabric to help you find your shoes. Your dress will be finished by the time you come back. If you can’t find the right color, then buy something in bone or white. We can dye them to match, so keep that in mind if you find a comfortable pair you like.”
“But I was thinking of some fancy sandals with heels, this being Florida. Something with rhinestones.”
“Yes, you could do that. Make sure anything you buy has a one or two inch heel. Not only is that what your hem is measured for, it’s easier to dance with a low heel than with a flat or a high heel. Just pick what you like and, remember, don’t buy something too small or you’ll have to sit out most of the dancing.”
Aimee paid more for the gown than she’d ever paid for a dress before. But she was going to turn this into a Cinderella ball and hoped to capture the attention of her Prince Charming.
She located a comfortable pair of jeweled sandals that showed off her newly polished red toes, returned to the bridal shop, and tried the dress on one more time with sandals. Everything was perfect.
Marlene helped her load the dress into her car, gave her a chaste hug, and thanked her for her business. The entire shopping spree, including purchasing a new special bra, had taken her less than two hours. She was on her way back to Sunset Beach and had time to spare.
Aimee was glad the men arrived early. She waited until she saw Andy’s car before she put her dress on. Her nerves were firing on all rockets. She’d had to dab a towel to her underarms a dozen times in the last hour.
She examined herself in the bathroom mirror and approved. The bright red dress had a low-cut, form-fitting bodice that had necessitated her new undergarment, making her chest look twice her normal size. A multi-layered puffy sleeve draped at one shoulder, sloping down and off her other shoulder to leave it bare. The pearls were the perfect, simple complement to the elegant lines.
The skirt was slightly gathered. Layers of the lush red fabric pulled to the sides over her hips and attached at the back of her waistband in a faux bustle. She twirled, feeling the weight of the fabric perfect for the dance floor. It showed off all her best features and swayed with her body’s movement. She had never felt more beautiful.
Aimee was glad her hairdresser convinced her to wear her hair down, showing off the new vanilla streaks and highlights she’d gotten this morning. She used more than her usual share of blush then added the bright lipstick and gloss. Since she was not used to seeing herself in makeup, the woman in the mirror almost looked like a strange guardian angel from one of her dreams.
Butterflies were not just fluttering inside her stomach, they were growling like bees, as she walked through her tiny living room and opened the door.
She’d never seen either of the SEALs in suits and ties, so the handsome gentlemen who were going to escort her to the wedding and party looked totally foreign. She could see they were having the same reaction to her. Nobody spoke. Cory’s jaw was still gaping, his eyes wide.
Andy punched him in the arm so he closed his mouth and leaned forward to give Aimee a kiss.
She broke the ice. “Wow. Just wow. You guys are going to steal the show. Did you have to buy new suits?”
Cory nodded, rocking on his brand new black leather lace-ups.
“Shoes too?” she asked.
“Which are going to come off as soon as we can get away with it,” muttered Andy. “I’ve already got a small blister just walking to and from the car.” He fidgeted and then added, “But look at you, Aimee. I’m stunned. You’re going to eclipse the bride! Don’t you think, Cory?”
Cory was leaning against the doorway, his palm to his forehead, overcome. “You outdid yourself. We’re going to be busy all night fighting off all the other guys, maybe even the groom, who I hear is a billionaire, so no games, okay?”
“Thank you.” She could feel her cheeks heating up. “I’m totally speechless, at how handsome you two are.” Aimee gasped.
“Ready?” Cory presented his elbow.
“Let me get my scarf.” Aimee brought along an oversized red and white silk scarf her parents had brought to her from Hong Kong. With the bare shoulder, she wanted to be able to stay warm. If there was any wind, she’d need the cover.
They escorted her to the passenger side of the Jeep. Her skirt was a little restrictive getting in, even with the running bar, so Cory picked her up by the waist and hoisted her into the seat. Andy rounded the front and climbed into the driver’s side.
She grabbed Cory’s hand. “Where’s your cast?”
“It didn’t fit, so I cut it off.”
“Cory!”
“I’m fine. It’s only three days early. No biggie.”
Andy was muttering in the driver seat, rolling his eyes. She started to ask him if he helped.
“Don’t,” he said, holding his palm up. “I caught him using a
drill trying to get the thing off. He was lucky I walked in on him, or I think we’d all be waiting in the Emergency Room.” And then he added, “And he’d still try to operate on himself if he could.”
Aimee had told Andy she was more independent and stubborn than Cory, but now realized she’d been wrong.
The drive was easy and the traffic light. They parked, and then she hooked her arm in Cory’s, and all three of them approached the church.
Several reporters were outside taking pictures of celebrities, and it wasn’t long before they noticed the trio.
“Here comes our red carpet moment,” Andy whispered.
Cory leaned in from the other side of Aimee, adding, “They’ll never believe this in Coronado, will they?”
“I’m going to catch all kinds of hell for it,” Andy shot back, whispering between his teeth, trying to give a winning smile to the photographer.
Aimee linked arms with Andy as well. “When the girls find you, it’s going to be an Elvis moment, but I’m going to claim both of you, just so we’re clear.”
“I’m pulling for a cake fight over you, Andy. Hell, the bride might change her mind and grab you.” Cory was just warming up with the jabs and pranks.
“In your dreams, Drillmaster. She’d take one look at my bank account and ask me if it was my beer money.”
“It is. That’s where it went,” Cory answered as he turned and posed for a photo op. “Who cares if you’re rich if you can’t use your noodles.”
Aimee gasped.
They paused to allow several long white limos to cross their path and park.
“See what you did?” whispered Andy. “On second thought, keep it up, ToolTime. Then I’ll have the lady all to myself.”
“Stop!” Aimee demanded. “You’re making me crazy, and it’s embarrassing. Can we just go inside and behave?”
Neither man said a word, but within seconds, they were both nearly doubling over in laughter.
“So much for manners. This is the bride’s special day. Let’s not ruin it,” she scolded.
Cory leaned forward and whispered back, “I think Andy could make it even more special, right, Casanova? Or did you buy a crystal candy dish instead?”
Aimee dropped her arms and stormed off in front of them. She knew the comments they made about how the bustle on her backside bounced seductively were spoken just loud enough so she’d hear them.
She turned around briefly and glared at them.
The two SEALs stopped in their tracks. “You’re right. She’s even prettier when she’s mad,” said Andy.
Aimee whipped around and arrived at the church’s foyer several seconds before they did. She was preparing to be escorted to the left side, but Cory intervened.
“No, no, no. Ain’t happening, sport,” he said as he removed Aimee’s arm from the usher’s clutches and unceremoniously pushed him aside.
The young usher’s face turned bright red as he searched the church for an ally. Cory took off with Aimee in tow, searching for a seat.
Andy leaned over and whispered to the boy, “Better leave him be. He’s a natural-born killer. An elite Navy SEAL. He wears ear necklaces and eats raw meat. I’d recommend not messing with him.”
Cory started making dead cat noises, having difficulty holding in a laughing meltdown. Aimee could only imagine the expression that must have been on the young usher’s face. At last, they found seats, Aimee between the two SEALs.
“Behave!” she whispered.
“Yes, ma’am.” Cory said.
Andy didn’t answer.
The smell of fresh flowers was intoxicating, and before long, Aimee noticed several members of the audience had begun to sneeze and cough. And then it hit Cory, who sneezed in a honk, like there was a horn lodged in his throat. People turned their heads.
“Now I know how you got kicked out.” she murmured. “Can’t you do anything without drawing attention?”
“Probably not, sweetheart. But at least I’m yours.” He kissed the side of her cheek in an uncharacteristically sweet gesture.
It was a long, elegant ceremony. When they exited the church, the sky was turning bright orange, which meant there would be a gorgeous sunset at the beach. They followed the long line of cars, winding through neighborhoods with world-class tropical gardens and mansions nestled in the foliage large enough to look like hotels. Elegant gates guarded everything.
At the country club security gate, Andy handed in their invitation so they could be admitted. They parked under the shade of a cluster of palms.
They were ushered into a complex of enormous connecting white tents sporting brightly-colored flags. They were asked to sign the guest register, and Aimee did so, then handed the pen to Andy. Cassanova and ToolTime added theirs right below.
Bouquets of flowers, mostly shades of peach pastels and ivory roses, were hanging upside down so that people traveling under them would be showered with a heady aroma. Embedded in the flowers were LED lights that twinkled. It was truly a stunning display.
Cory immediately steered her to the bar like it was a grave emergency. Andy followed not far behind but got held up by the ladies of the bride’s wedding party.
“You came!” Ginger said as she gave him a bear hug he wasn’t ready for.
“Let’s get him a drink,” Cory whispered.
Aimee watched the ladies engage Andy in conversation. He looked smashing in his black suit. They peppered him with questions and were clearly vying for his attention. He was patient, taking the time to speak to each of them, even though she noticed he held his hands together and appeared a bit stiff. He caught her glance and smiled back, arching his eyebrows, to tell her he was uncomfortable with all the attention. Aimee had known men half as good-looking who were way more wrapped up in themselves.
Casanova. It was the perfect description.
“Come on, Hot Lips, let’s rescue the old guy,” Cory said as he handed her a glass of champagne. He held two long-necked beers in his other. Aimee followed. She noticed the relief in Andy’s eyes at the sight of Cory coming to his aid. Cory jumped right in the middle of the circle to take some of the pressure off Andy. But Aimee realized, unlike Andy, Cory was completely comfortable and in his element.
She stood outside the ring of ladies surrounding the two SEALs, alone, enjoying the dance of mating rituals as old as the world.
Chapter 9
Andy watched Cory and Aimee on the dance floor. Of all the things he did for her, he was most appreciative of the fact that Cory made her laugh. He just made her happy.
Sometime during the weekend, Cory was going to let Aimee know about his plans to move to Texas. The burden felt heavy on Andy’s soul, as if he was not keeping a promise. But he pushed it away, knowing that he sometimes had a penchant for overthinking and worrying about too many things.
When he looked at the staging of this affair—from the decorations to the money spent on throwing such a lavish party—it occurred to him that the bride’s family was more interested in making a statement than celebrating the marriage of their daughter. Something about the whole scene was a little off, out of control, like a grandiose corporate event that must have cost a fortune and taken months in the planning. Another message, something else could have been done instead. Something personal.
Aimee danced with numerous other guests, while Cory talked to a table of people, telling stories or overtipping the bartender to make stronger drinks. Cory acted like it was his party, given in his honor. He talked too much about what they did as an elite unit. The alcohol made him boastful and proud, looking for praise that he never could get enough of.
Someone had to watch over Aimee in Cory’s absence. Someone had to make sure that where they placed their hands on her body was appropriate, giving her the respect she so deserved.
One particular slow dance had him nearly jump to his feet and tear her out of the older man’s clutches. The guy’s palm wandered from her waist and down along her backside, which made Aimee jump.
But Andy waited, held himself back, because as they turned, he saw Aimee was smiling. He began to understand that she’d probably smile through everything in life. She was all alone, but she wasn’t lonely. He knew that Cory was a flawed individual, but Aimee would always see the good in him. No matter what.
Several women had made advances toward him, letting him know that he could ask them to dance. He even offered a couple of times. He chatted with people who passed him as he stood against the wall and watched the arena like he used to evaluate battle scenes.
He remembered the lines of girls in high school who stood together talking all evening, trying to look like they were perfectly fine with being a wallflower. Some of them would stand there all night long and never be asked to dance. They’d probably go home and share it with their pillow. He could never do that. He wondered why they tried.
Maybe that’s the difference between men and women. Maybe they try harder.
In Aimee’s case, she was kind and did it because it was the right thing to do. And because it was the right thing to do, it made her feel happy.
But things changed as Andy sipped on his third beer. He took the blinders off his heart. That’s when he realized something was growing there. And it went far beyond just wanting to protect another person. In a very short period of time, she had become more than just a sister, more than just his best friend’s girl.
He wasn’t going to go there this evening. That would be something he could consider when he was all alone, watching the waves or lying in his bed at night wondering, about…
Aimee caught him watching her. She murmured something to her partner and sauntered through various tables. Her head tilted to the side, not showing any embarrassment and not asking permission before wrapping herself in his gaze. He could see she’d figured it out. She knew he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the whole world. In her confidence and grace as she approached him she was telling him that she knew all those things, and more.
This is so dangerous.
“Do I have to ask you to dance, Andy?” she said when she reached him.
SEALed At Sunset Page 8
