First Date - [Bridesmaid's Chronicles 01]

by Karen Kendall

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  Sydney typed back immediately.

  Subject: Re: Your little sister has gone crazy! Date: XXXXXXX From: numbersgeek To: vshelton

  Tell me about it! Yes, I've met him, and there's something fishy with the guy. What kind of Texan speaks Italian, wears designer clothes and has a vineyard??? And Viv, here's the really awful part: the ring he gave her is FAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I think he's marrying her for the $$$. But I can't talk sense into her.

  Syd

  She closed down her computer and shut her laptop. She'd put this off long enough. Syd reached a shaking hand for the phone to dial Sonntag Vineyards. But it rang before she touched it, startling her.

  "Sydney?" Alex's deep voice vibrated into her eardrum.

  Oh, shit . What was she going to say to him? "Y-yes?"

  "I just wanted to see if you were okay."

  "I'm fine, Alex. Why wouldn't I be?"

  "Well, you did leave Auslander's a little abruptly. I hope I didn't offend you."

  "Oh, no, not at all." Sydney paused and then added, "I kiss strangers all the time in bars. Weekly, as a matter of fact. Sometimes biweekly."

  "Is that so." Amusement tinged his tone.

  "Yup." She waited a beat.

  "So I'm just one of a crowd."

  "Yup."

  "But Sydney, I'm not really a stranger, am I?"

  "You're definitely strange."

  He chuckled. "Why?"

  Because guys like you don't go around kissing girls like me. You could be with a swimsuit model . But she didn't say it.

  "Sydney? Do you have plans for tomorrow night?"

  Was he asking her out? What is wrong with him ? She took refuge in sarcasm. "Actually, there's a formal ball here at the Motor Inn I have to attend."

  "That's a shame, because I wanted to take you to dinner and then country-dancing at a place called Gruene Hall. Are you interested?"

  "I can't dance."

  "I'm going to teach you."

  "No, I'm really bad." She turned her ring round and round, staring at the familiar, tiny scratches in the soft yellow gold.

  "Sydney, can you walk? If you can walk, then you can do a little dance called the Texas Two-step. I promise. I'll pick you up around seven, okay?"

  Hey, wait a minute 1 haven't even said yes . Her mouth moved without her permission. "Okay," it said.

  "See you then."

  Sydney hung up the phone and stared at it. She had a date with Alex Kimball. She put a hand to her mouth and felt the still-sensitive area around her lips. She hoped he wouldn't kiss her again. Then she hoped he would.

  Roman had an uncanny sense of timing, the jerk. Because when she got up the nerve to call the vineyard again, an older gentleman told her that he was out of town on business. Could he take a message?

  Sydney thought about it. Yes, please. Would you tell him that I'm going to personally come out there and put his body through that crusher/de-stemmer thing? That he is never going to get his hands on my sister's money ?

  "Is he reachable by cell phone, and do you have that number?"

  "Who's calling, please?"

  No, she wasn't going to discuss this with the creep over a cell phone while he sat in some bar or cafe or limo. She needed to get in his face. "Uh, never mind. I'll just call him when he returns. When is he returning?" She supposed she could ask Julia, but she didn't want to arouse her suspicions.

  Roman, the older gentleman informed her, would be back in just a couple of days. He'd be more than happy to take her name and number

  "That's all right. Thank you." Sydney hung up and reflected ruefully that now she really did need to call Marv. She just had to think of a good storynot her forte.

  "Yeah?" he barked when he answered the phone. "Syddie, where da hell are you?"

  "I'm in New Mexico. Santa Fe, to be exact."

  "What da hell you doin' there?"

  "Tracing Betty Lou."

  "She take my money to some spa there, or what?"

  "Well, she's been here. But now she's gone, apparently headed west. Maybe Vegas." Yeah, stick close to the truth, Syd . And the truth was that Betty Lou had checked into the Bellagio shortly after she'd disappeared. There were receipts from a tacky boutique, Sparkles, that indicated she'd bought three different evening gowns, and other receipts from an upscale beauty salon. It didn't take a rocket scientist to surmise that Marv wasn't ever going to see his money againbut Sydney didn't quite know how to tell him that. She'd turned expert at keeping ugly secrets these days, that was for sure.

  " Vegas !" Marv screamed. The decibel level was enough to not only shatter her eardrums, but also to blow her eyeballs through the top of her skull at Mach 2.

  Well, I may as well prepare him.

  "You find her and you keep her outta the casinos, Syddie!"

  "I'll do my best."

  "You sure she hasn't been in Vegas all this time already?"

  "I think she came out here to Santa Fe to visit her sister," said Sydney. This story's kind of in reverse order, but 1 really don't want to go into that with you right now .

  "Drive, Syd, drive. Stay at Number Thirty-seven and Number Forty-six along the road. Keep those expenses down, you hear?"

  "I hear. Are you sure you don't want to bring the police into this?"

  " No police . Nobody poking through our books. Nobody but you."

  I am so washing my hands of the family business, before 1 end up in jail . "Marv? You know I don't like to hear you talk like that. And if I find more bogus or duplicate receipts, that's it. I'm gone."

  "Syd, sweetheart. Call me Pop, can't you? You're my little girl."

  No, I'm your little patsy . "Marv," she said pointedly, "I will not play that kind of ball. I will straighten out Betty Lou's stuff, but after that you need to keep everything legit, hire somebody competentan accounting degree would be a plusand actually pay some benefits."

  "Damn cell phones," Marv said. "You're breaking up. You find her, Syddie, and my money. And stick with the cafeterias, doll. No fancy restaurants."

  "Am I allowed to buy gas?" she asked. "Or should I siphon it from parked cars?"

  "Not a bad idea," said her pop. "Talk at ya later."

  Sydney found herself wondering if her own mother's ring was fake.

  * * *

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sydney stared into the mirror the next evening and yanked her hair out of its ponytail for the third time. She should never have agreed to a real date with Alex Kimball.

  Did leaving her hair loose only accentuate her long, narrow face? Or did it look more feminine that way, more appropriate for a date? Should she follow the when-in-Rome theory and try to spray and tease it into Big Hair?

  For the ten thousand and three-hundred-thirty-ninth time in her life, she despaired over her nose, which she'd inherited from Grandpa Spinelli. Unlike Julia's adorable button, she'd gotten what she thought of as a long, Sicilian honker, and it made her look like a worried anteater. Her eyes weren't bad, a nice shade of hazel that tended toward brown, but her lips were too thinshe'd never have the plump, pretty pout that Ma and Julia had gotten from Grandma MacLaren. They'd also, quite unfairly, gotten her breasts, while Syd had been cursed with Grandma Spinelli's, and often could get away with no bra.

  When she'd despaired over her body as a teenager, Ma had told her she had the build of a racehorse or a greyhound. Sydney felt more like a particularly awkward giraffe, devoid of anything resembling a curve.

  What to do with her hair? What to wear? How to behave?

 
She was at the point of just crawling under the bed and standing Alex up when there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find Julia, lugging a pile of clothes, a makeup bag, and some kind of round, electric brush.

  "I know you're going out with Alex," Julia said. "And I know you're standing in here trying to figure out what to wear."

  "Alex who?" said Sydney, making a face. "And how do you know, anyway?"

  "Roman told me before he left on his business trip. I'm going to help you look gorgeous, as long as you promise to come and sample wedding cakes with me."

  Syd wrinkled her nose. "But I hate white cake. And you're going to make me taste nineteen or twenty, at least. Ugh."

  "Do you want my help or not?"

  Syd shifted from foot to foot. "Why would I care what I look like?"

  Julia just shot her a look.

  "Okay, okay. But it's just like you, Marie Antoinette, to tell me to eat cake. If it's gross, then off with your head."

  Julia laughed, dumped everything in the middle of the bed and ignored her while holding various tops under her chin.

  "Those are just fabric samples, right?" Syd asked. "Because none of them are actually big enough to cover a human torso."

  Julia selected one about the size of a pocket hankie in a wild abstract print of greens, blues and creams. "Take off that rag," she instructed.

  "Rag? This is a nice cotton top," Syd protested.

  "Yes, if you're cleaning house. Take it off. You're going to wear this silk Pucci halter."

  "Halters are slutty," Syd protested, "and I don't want to look poochy."

  "Pucci the designer, Clueless One. Now put it on. It's not slutty, it's sexy."

  "Maybe in Brazil. How am I going to wear a bra with that?"

  "You're not. Now stop arguing."

  Sydney sighed and obediently stepped into it, even though she wasn't used to taking orders from her sister. The silk felt wonderful against her bare skin, and the ends of the bow at her nape tickled between her shoulder blades.

  But she shook her head at the very small jeans Julia seemed to want her to wearfancy boot cut jeans with leather lacing along the thighs. "You're two sizes smaller than me. There's no way I can get into those, and they'll be too short."

  "I wear them with five-inch platform sandals. We're going to put you in little kitten heels. And they're half spandex, so they'll stretch."

  "Julia, those are bondage jeans! I can't possibly wear those."

  "The idea isn't bondage, it's just a hint of easy access. It makes men drool on their shoes. Now come on." She shook them.

  "Nooooo," whined Sydney. What had gotten into her sweet, malleable sister?

  "Yes. You can show up here and order me around, insult my decision-making abilities and treat me like a twit. But you cannot question my fashion sense. Now get over here, young lady."

  Sydney stared at her. "Yes, Miss Julia." She took the jeans and slid one leg into them, then the other. "I do not treat you like a twit."

  "We can have this discussion later, okay? Now pull up those pants and stop waving your fanny around."

  Sydney hauled the things up her thighs, eyeing the leather lacing. "I feel like I'm putting on a wet suit," she moaned.

  "Excellent. Now tie that leather thingy at the waist and let me see. Oh, yeah. He's going to be gnawing on his knuckles all night. That is for sure."

  Sydney slunk into the bathroom to check out her new slut persona in the ugly Motor Inn builder's mirror.

  "There's only one thing," Julia said behind her. "The panties have got to go. And those are really ugly, anywayhaven't you heard of Victoria's Secret?"

  "I'm not going on a date without underwear!"

  "Did you bring a thong with you?" Julia sighed. "No, never mind. I'm sure you don't even own one"

  "I do, too!"

  "so it's commando for you."

  Sydney's mouth worked. "No."

  In a voice appropriate for reasoning with a two-year-old, Julia asked, "Why not?"

  "It's not nice."

  "Since when have you prized being nice, Ms. Tact?"

  "That's different."

  "Look. It's not like you're going to sleep with the guy, right?"

  "Of course not. I barely know him!" But the thought of sleeping with Alex sent a hum through her body.

  "Well, then he'll never know whether you have panties on or not. So what do you care?"

  " I'll know."

  "Yep. And it'll make you feel sexy." Julia grinned. "Very empowering. You should try it sometime."

  "I never knew you were such a little vixen."

  "Live a little, Syd. There's more to life than numbers." Julia folded her arms and leaned forward, her eyes dancing. "I double-dog-dare you to take off those panties, so nothing comes between you and your Cavallis."

  "But they're your Cavallis. Ick."

  "I don't want them back. I have two other pairs." Julia shut the door on her.

  Sydney grimaced into the mirror. Live a little . With a sigh, she peeled off the jeans, shimmied out of her panties, and struggled back into the jeans again. She felt weird. But it was kind of fun. Like she had a secret that nobody else knew about.

  She turned around and checked out her rear view. Oh. My. God. These Cavalli things were painted on! But there was something amazing about the cut of them: They fit her like a glove without looking trashy.

  Sydney opened the door. "Julia, I don't even want to know how much you paid for this pair of jeans, but they might have been worth it."

  Julia nodded. "I know. Boy, I'm going to miss my

  Nordstrom discount, though. Now, let's work on your makeup and hair. No grumbling."

  By the time Julia was finished, Sydney almost didn't recognize herself. She had creamy, model-perfect skin and no freckles, thanks to some miracle in a bottle. On her mouth played a full, mauve, shimmery smile, her eyes were dark and mysterious, and even her nose looked smaller and more regal.

  Julia even outfitted her with blue topaz dangle earrings and a matching bracelet. She used the electric round brush to turn Sydney's hair under at the ends.

  The only issue was her shoes. Even Julia's open-toed mules were too small, and Sydney couldn't wear either her own brown sling-backs or her hiking boots. Julia thought for a moment and then made a phone call.

  "Hi, Mrs. Sonntag, it's Julia," she said. "Fine, thanks. Uh-huh. So my sister has a hot date"

  Sydney made a noise of protest.

  "a hot date with Alex Kimball, and we have no shoes that work. Kiki e-mailed me that she's a nine, right? Wonderful. Is there anything in her closet we can borrow? Anything she might have left behind? I need a sandal with a low heel in silver or cream. If there's nothing like that, then a cowboy boot."

  "Julia! I can't borrow the shoes of some woman we've never met!"

  "Thank you so much. Yes, I'll be right over." Julia hung up and turned to Sydney. "Yes, you can. Mrs.

  Sonntag said it was fine. Just don't step in any cow patties." She smiled.

  Syd groaned. "Alex described Kiki as 'hell on heels.' What if she finds out I raided her closet and puts out a hit on me?"

  "Kiki's not violent. She's just spoiled and high maintenance from what Roman says. She has a good heart."

  "And she's got to be gorgeousshe's a soap star and she was runner-up to Miss America in 1995! Even worse, she used to date Alex in high school. Not that I really care," Sydney added hastily. "He's just taking me out because he's bored."

  Julia walked over to Sydney and put her hands on her shoulders. "He is not taking you out because he's bored. Sydney, look in the mirror. Can't you see how pretty you are?"

  "Ha," said Syd. "Yeah, that's why you're here doing an entire overhaul on me."

  "Don't be a butt-headif you didn't have the goods, I couldn't polish them."

  Syd stuck her chin out. "But I'm talented at being a butt-head. It's one of my best personality features."

  Julia rolled her eyes and put her hands to her temples. "I don't know what to
say to convince you. It's impossible."

  Her "diamond" flashed fire and Sydney averted her gaze from it. How could she possibly ruin her sister's happinessand especially when she was being so nice to her? But how could she not tell her something this important?

  Only a complete jerk would give his fiancee a fake ring. Syd couldn't let her marry him. And she'd bet Julia wasn't planning on signing a prenup.

  Tomorrow. She would solve this problem tomorrow. And maybe she'd call Vivien. It never hurt to be armed with legal information.

  For tonight, she'd pretend this was a real date and that Alex Kimball was actually interested in her, was even attracted to her. For tonight she'd pretend she was a fabulously sexy party girl, somebody like Julia.

  Alex hummed as he buttoned a white oxford shirt and tucked it into a pair of well-worn Wranglers. He added a Western-style belt and tugged on his boots. Though he never wore hats, he figured he looked pretty damned Texan for his date with the Jersey Girl.

  He headed for the kitchen to say goodbye to his mother, who was snipping fresh parsley into a marinara sauce. "Now remember, Alex, you can't behave like a bachelor anymore."

  He blinked. "Pardon?"

  "You've got a wife, a family and a dog and they all need you, darlin'."

  do? They do ? Alex tried to absorb the information. Who had he married? How many kids had Mama bestowed upon him? Boys? Girls? A couple of each? And what kind of dog?

  "So you can't be staying out until all hours and coming home drunk," his mother continued. "Nell won't put up with it."

  Nell, aka Sydney. His mother had them married off! He was tempted to ask her about the wedding, but he didn't want to be late.

  "I know, Mama," he said, in reassuring tones. "I won't be out too long."

  "She's a good woman, that Nell." His mother waved the scissors at him, and Alex was uncomfortably reminded of the time she'd waved a knife at him. "And I like her, so you treat her well."

  "Absolutely, Mama."

  "Bring her flowers for no reason, and always compliment her dinners, even though they're not as good as mine. And massage her feet every once in a while. She'll love you forever."