Always the Designer, Never the Bride

by Sandra D. Bricker

  "Interesting vantage point," he observed. "I suppose you're right."

  "I love the rush of starting with a simple sketch, and working for weeks or months to turn that idea into reality. But even though she wears that gown on the most important day of her life, I'll never have the chance that most designers have. I won't walk down a street in Manhattan and run into some girl from the fashion district who's wearing one of my designs. That would be . . . beyond!"

  J. R. leaned forward as he told her, "I was riding into Santa Fe about a year ago, and I saw this amazing bike up ahead of me. I gunned it to catch up and have a look because I could see the thing was cherry. When I got there, I realized it was one of mine. I'd restored it the year before in Tucson, and there it was, riding into Santa Fe."

  "See, that makes me almost swoon," she admitted. "I would love to have that experience. Just turn a corner, you know? And see someone wearing an Audrey Regan original."

  The waitress laid out their beautiful dinner on the table before them, and Audrey's mouth began to water at first whiff. Conversation flowed freely between them and, when the waitress returned to offer dessert and coffee, she noticed the time on the girl's watch.

  "It can't be nine-thirty!" she exclaimed. "How is that possible?"

  "Is Mrs. Drummond still in the hotel?" J. R. asked her. "Yes, she'll be here late tonight. She has a vow renewal in the main ballroom. Would you like me to get a message to her?"

  "Just thank her for us. Pearl too. The meal was first-rate. If you'll bring us the check—"

  "Pearl said your meal is gratis," the girl explained. "But I'll give Sherilyn your message."

  Audrey and J. R. exchanged surprised smiles. "Are you sure?" Audrey asked her.

  "Quite sure. Have a lovely evening."

  "Please at least take this for your trouble," J. R. said, offering her a folded bill. "The service was even better than the meal."

  "Thank you so much."

  When she'd gone, Audrey shook her head. "This place has been so good to me. I kind of never want to leave."

  "I know the feeling."

  After a moment, Audrey clasped her hands behind her head and stretched. "Mac and cheese. Comfort food. I actually feel like I could sleep."

  J. R. smiled at her, and the twinkling lights glimmered in his eyes, melting them down to a deep steel blue. "Walk you home?" he asked, and he stood up and offered her his hand.

  "Please," she said, accepting it.

  They took their time strolling to the elevator, and they chatted about the night sky as they peered through the glass and ascended above the courtyard. When they reached the second floor, Audrey yawned as the doors opened. It occurred to her that she hadn't felt so relaxed in a very long time. When she turned around to share the thought with J. R., he stood close behind her.

  She looked up into his eyes for a long, warm moment.

  "Good night," she finally whispered, and she resisted a swoon as he smoothed her hair away from her face. She hesitated, looking down, and then back into his eyes. "I had a really nice time."

  "Me too."

  Those blue-gray eyes of his had her transfixed. She knew she should look away, but she just couldn't manage it.

  Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.

  "Sleep well, Audrey."

  "Okay. You too."

  Traditional Macaroni and Cheese

  Comfort Food from Morelli's Restaurant

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees

  3 cups elbow macaroni, cooked and drained

  3 Tablespoons cornstarch

  1½ teaspoons salt

  ¾ teaspoon dry mustard

  ½ teaspoon black pepper

  12-ounce can evaporated milk

  1½ cups water

  3 Tablespoons butter

  3½ cups shredded sharp Cheddar cheese

  ¼ cup grated Parmesan cheese

  ¼ cup crumbled bleu cheese

  ½ cup softened cream cheese

  Mix evaporated milk, water, and butter in medium saucepan.

  Add cornstarch, salt, mustard, and pepper.

  Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until

  mixture boils.

  Allow ingredients to boil for approximately one minute, and

  remove from heat.

  Stir in 2 cups of the Cheddar cheese and all of the other

  cheeses until melted.

  Add macaroni and mix well.

  Pour mixture into greased two-quart casserole dish.

  Top with remaining Cheddar cheese and grated Parmesan.

  Bake for 25 minutes until cheese is melted and top is a light

  golden brown.

  11

  An early knock at her hotel room door drew Audrey away from the window where she'd been standing for who knew how long, sifting over that moment when she'd said goodnight to J. R. She couldn't remember ever wanting a kiss so much, and even now—in the light of a new day—a cooler head had not prevailed. Her thoughts wrapped around that wish so hard that she found it a little hard to breathe.

  Kat must have her hands full, she thought as she headed for the door.

  But when she opened it, Sherilyn stood on the other side instead of Kat.

  "Good morning!"

  "Sherilyn. Hi. How are you?"

  She shrugged and crinkled up her nose slightly as she admitted, "Sick as an expectant mother."

  "Oh. Sorry. Would you like to come in?"

  "I come bearing latte," she announced, handing Audrey one of the three paper cups in her hands. "I hope you like vanilla?"

  "I do. Thank you so much."

  "Listen, I know you're busy, and I won't stay long. I just wanted to talk to you about Carly and Devon."

  "Oh?"

  Audrey sat down on the corner of the unmade bed, and Sherilyn folded into the chair nestled in the corner of the room near the window.

  "Their party is tonight, and I guess Devon ships out in another week or so?"

  "Yes. On the tenth."

  "That is so rough. I'm happy to hear you'll be around for a while longer to help her with the transition. I guess she's taking it kind of hard." Audrey wondered how Sherilyn knew that. Before she could ask, Sherilyn answered. "I had breakfast with J. R."

  Audrey nodded and took a sip from the warm cup. "Mmm. Very good."

  "Listen, some of us get together once a month for a sort of Girls' Night. I have it at my house, and we get in our jams, do facials and manicures sometimes, watch movies, or eat junk food. It's like a slumber party for grown-ups."

  "Sounds fun."

  "Well, we're having one on Wednesday night," she explained. "I invited Carly to join us, but she wants to spend every spare moment with Devon while she has him home."

  "Understandable."

  "But I was thinking you might like to come."

  Audrey tilted her head slightly. "Really?"

  "Yeah, you and Kat both."

  "Well . . ."

  "Look, I know you're busy with the new project and all . . ."

  J. R. has been very chatty!

  ". . . but we always have such a good time. It's a great way for us to blow off steam and get some time together. Will you think about it?"

  "I will."

  "Good. Wednesday night. Everyone usually starts arriving around 7:30, but if you want to come later, that's fine too."

  "Should I bring anything?"

  "Just you and your favorite pajamas."

  "Okay!"

  "I hope you can make it," Sherilyn told her, and she stood up and headed for the door. "We all just love you and Kat, and it would be fun to have the chance to get to know you better while you're here."

  "It's been a very long time since I've been invited to a slumber party," she admitted with a grin. "I'm actually a little intrigued."

  Just as Sherilyn reached it, the door burst open and Kat stepped in.

  "Oh, hey!"

  "Hi, Kat. I brought you a latte," and she pointed at the desk. "And you and Audrey are invited to a slumber party after
the pep rally. I'm sure she'll tell you all about it."

  Kat chuckled. "O-kay."

  "Awesome bracelet," she added, and she skimmed the large stretch cuff of various hues of pastel pearls that Kat wore. "Did you make that too?"

  Kat nodded and held it up. "It's one of my favorites."

  "Well, I'd buy it in a heartbeat," Sherilyn told her. "You really should think about doing this professionally, Kat."

  "I have a profession," she replied on a giggle.

  "Yes, she does," Audrey teased. "And I can't function without her!"

  "Well, I'm going to go and enjoy my one caffeine product for the day before Tanglewood life takes over. Have a good one!"

  "See you later," Audrey said. "And Sherilyn, thank you so much for the invitation."

  "Sure. I hope you'll come."

  Kat closed the door behind her. "She's so pretty, isn't she?"

  "That red hair and those big turquoise eyes." Audrey shook her head. "But still, she makes it impossible to hate her for it."

  "Russell says she's lost a bunch of weight too."

  "That should make it easier. But—" Audrey tilted her head and stared at the ceiling for a moment. "Nope. Still can't hate her."

  Kat laughed. "So I spoke to Lisette. She'll be here at noon for measuring. She also told me she has swatches of the original fabric she chose for her gown. I asked her to bring them so that you and I can hit the fabric stores this afternoon."

  "Good!"

  "And she has photos of the bridesmaids in their dresses so we can see them. They've all been fitted and are ready to go, but the flower girl's dress is too big. I said we could do a fitting and alter it. She'll have her cousin bring the little girl over at one o'clock."

  "Excellent. Do we have any word on an alternate work space, in case I don't hear back from LaMont?"

  "I haven't been able to find a thing. I'll keep trying, but let's hope—"

  Right on cue, Audrey's cell phone jingled, and she snatched it up from the nightstand. "Yes, let's hope!" she said before pressing the green button. "Audrey Regan."

  "Audrey Regan, this is Wes LaMont."

  "Good morning."

  "Speaking of morning, what are your plans?"

  "Right now? I'm preparing for a fitting with my bride at noon."

  "That gives you some time then. I thought I could show you the work space I have available."

  "And how many millions will it cost me, Wes?"

  "Don't insult me. It's a loaner. And in return, you will forgive me for the Kim Renfroe debacle."

  "That seems equitable."

  "She went with someone else, by the way."

  "You're joking."

  "I don't joke. Want to come out to Buckhead and have a look at your work space?"

  Audrey opened her eyes wide and grinned at Kat as she replied, "Absolutely. What's the address?"

  "This is what it looks like in my dreams," Audrey whispered to Kat as they headed up the marble staircase, caressing the clear acrylic floating banister as she went. "But I didn't think it really existed."

  Kat stifled a giggle as they approached the crescent-shaped reception desk.

  "Audrey Regan to see Weston LaMont."

  "Yes, Ms. Regan, he's expecting you. Follow me, please?"

  She resisted the urge to reach out and hold Kat's hand as their heels click-click-clicked their way down the long corridor. Enormous photographs of famous-faced models on red carpets and flower-bordered wedding aisles lined both sides of the deep burgundy walls leading to gargantuan double glass doors etched with LaMont's logo.

  Beyond the doors sat a world Audrey had only imagined, never experienced: a line of glass-enclosed offices to the left and a row of small design rooms to the right. At the end of the corridor beyond the administrative offices, another set of large doors beckoned, carved mahogany doors bearing the LaMont logo engraved in brass.

  "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," Kat whispered, and Audrey shushed her with caution.

  "Through those doors and to your right," the waif-like receptionist directed them.

  Audrey groaned as she pushed open the heavy door. Yet another wonderland existed beyond it, and she and Kat made a right as directed. An Angelina Jolie clone with a large bluetooth angled over her ear sat before a paper-thin computer screen behind a large two-level desk. She looked up and smiled as they approached.

  "Audrey Regan?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  She pushed a button on the telephone. "Audrey Regan is here." A millisecond later, she waved them through. "Go right in."

  Audrey swallowed around the lump in her throat and drew in a sharp breath before sliding open the oak-framed glass pocket door.

  "Ah, Audrey. You're right on time. Come in, come in."

  "You remember my assistant, Katarina Ivanov?"

  "Charmed," he said without looking at Kat. "Take a load off, both of you."

  They sat down in narrow acrylic chairs, and Audrey couldn't help but gaze out the window. "That must be the best view in Atlanta."

  "It should be," he replied. "Now tell me about this project you're working on. I want details."

  "Well, it's a wedding gown for a bride who had been working with Riley Eastwood," she said. "They had a parting of the ways with only three weeks to the wedding, and the bride has asked me to step in."

  "For Riley Eastwood."

  "Yes."

  "I know Riley. If this bride of yours wasn't happy with her design, I'm wondering—"

  "Oh, I know. I had the same thought," she interjected. "But you know how it goes. Sometimes designer and client just don't have the same vision."

  LaMont cleared his throat, leaned back in his uncomfortable-looking chair, and stared her down. Just about the time she began to resist the inclination to squirm, he blinked.

  "I have a new line gearing up," he said without inflection. "The patterns staff starts on the third of next month. At that time, all of the work space will be occupied."

  "We'll be out of your hair before that," she promised.

  "I don't normally lend out work space to other designers, you understand."

  "I know. And I'm so appreciative."

  "It's just not done. But in your case, since you're a fish out of your Soho pond—" He knows I'm in Soho? "—and, in some distorted way, I do owe you a little something. After Kim." The traitor. "So you can feel free to use the space and the equipment. You'll need to order your own supplies."

  "Yes. We will."

  "Monique will give you a code to enter the room and lock it up when you're not here."

  "All right."

  "You and Ms. Ivanov will be added to the security list so you can come and go after hours, if need be."

  "Thank you so much, Wes."

  He depressed a button on a small black box on the corner of his desk, and it wasn't until he began to speak that Audrey realized he must be donning the smallest bluetooth headset on the planet. "Monique, show Ms. Regan to her work space and answer any questions she might have."

  Before she could thank him again, the office door slid open and Monique stood just inside it. She rolled her hand impatiently, and both Audrey and Kat hopped to their feet.

  "Thank you again." She offered her hand, and LaMont shook it somewhat reluctantly.

  "If you need anything, let Monique know."

  Not-so-secret code for Don't Bother Me.

  They followed Moniquelina down the long corridor, past the first door, and beyond the design spaces. Two of the rooms were occupied by three or four people, another was set up like a conference room and filled with several more worker bees whose necks craned along with them as they passed.

  "The code to the door," Monique told them as she punched it in, "is 76281."

  Kat scrambled for her notebook and pen, scribbling a quick note.

  "You don't have to punch anything before or after. Just the numbers."

  "Got it," Kat replied.

  "There's a desk in the corner," she said, pointing out
the obvious about the large room with windows on two sides. "A cutting table. A sewing machine. A dress form. Various . . ." She wiggled her fingers toward a large cabinet built into the wall. ". . . design accoutremah. Is there anything else you'll need?"

  Audrey jumped a bit. "Oh. No. I don't think so."

  "Lunch is delivered every afternoon at two o'clock. If you want to order, tell Billie at reception by one. Stop and see her on your way out and she'll issue you a pass for the parking garage next door. If you parked in one of the lots on this block, Billie will also validate. See yourselves out when you're through."

  Without another word, she spun around on her five-inch Jimmy Choos and made her exit.

  "Well." Kat grimaced. "We're not inviting her to join us at the slumber party, are we?"

  Audrey popped with laughter. "But it would be kind of funny to see what her jammies look like."

  The two of them stood there surveying their surroundings. Finally, Audrey let out a chuckle. Kat giggled too.

  "Can you believe this, Audrey?" Kat asked her.

  "Hardly."

  "We're in Weston LaMont's design studio. In a corner space."

  "Yep. We sure are."

  "It's way nicer than I imagined. How about you?"

  "I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that they order lunch for everyone every day," Audrey told her.

  "Do you think we have to pay for it?"

  "Just in case . . . we're on a diet."

  "Agreed."

  "Hey, Audrey," Kat said softly, moving in close as if to share a big secret. "What if he gets a load of what you've designed for Lisette, and he goes crazy for it and offers you a big job here, designing with him. Wouldn't that be bonkers?"

  Audrey grinned. "Number one: bonkers? You're spending too much time with Russell Walker. Number two: there's only one designer at Weston LaMont Designs. If he offered me employment, it would be as a pattern maker or a seamstress, not a designer."

  Kat looked around with a huge grin stretched across her face. "Well, you're here now," she said.

  Audrey decided not to point out that she was there on a temporary visa.

  "It's your opportunity to soak up the atmosphere," Kat said, and she squeezed Audrey's wrist. "Catch the vision of a big design business."