“You really do have one of the best jobs,” I said, inching toward the cabinet she usually kept locked. It had the most powerful candles in it, and she rarely let me look inside. I stood on my tiptoes to get a peek at the top row. There weren’t any labels on the special candles, so I couldn’t even guess what they were for. A bright pink votive in the back beckoned me. It even had sparkles in it.
I reached out, about to touch it, when Ivy’s hand smacked mine. “What have I told you about touching spelled candles?” she chided, wedging her body between the cabinet and me.
“Aw, come on, Ivy. I only want a peek. What’s the harm?”
“The harm is that you’ll touch things you’re not supposed to,” Ivy replied, reaching behind her and grabbing something. “Here, this one’s for you anyway.” She handed me the pink candle I’d had my eye on.
“Really?” I squeaked. “What kind of spell does it have?”
“None,” she responded with an eye roll. “I had to hide it in here because I knew you’d find it since you’re a snoop.”
I gasped, holding a hand to my chest. “I am not a snoop.”
“Please. We both know better than that,” Ivy snorted.
I brought the candle to my nose and sniffed. “It’s smells beautiful, like sunshine. What is it?”
“It’s called Princess Sparkles,” Ivy said, not meeting my eyes. “I’ll be selling it in a few months once the holiday season has run its course.” I watched as my sarcastic friend’s face softened with a small grin.
“You named a candle after me?” I whispered in disbelief, clutching the candle to my chest. Tears of happiness welled in my eyes.
Ivy shrugged. “He’ll call, you know. I’m sure he’s not purposely ignoring you.” The tears of happiness quickly took a sorrowful turn. She’d seen through my facade.
“Maybe,” I mumbled, inspecting the pink candle and swiping at the tears as they ran down my cheek.
“Have you tried calling him?”
“No. I took the hint when he didn’t respond to any of my texts that first week.” I might have been lovestruck, but I wasn’t a masochist. Or one of those crazy, obsessive ladies in the movies I’d been watching on the women’s movie channel lately. I could take a hint.
“Excuse me? Is anyone back there? I’m looking for the Go Fig Yourself candle,” a customer called from the front.
“One second,” Ivy shouted. “Listen, don’t jump to any conclusions, okay? I’m sure there’s a reason.” She punched me on the shoulder on her way to help the customer.
Not wanting to make a spectacle of myself in front of the customer, I sat back on the stool and waited for the red splotches and tear stains to leave my face. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through celebrity gossip sites. They might not have the same appeal as they did before I met Cruz, but I enjoyed the mindless entertainment.
As I scrolled down Flibbertigibbet’s site, a post caught my attention.
Red’s the New Blonde
Cruz Drakov appeared at Ghost Fest yesterday with a big grin on his face and a new woman. The leggy redhead hasn’t been identified yet, but she came and left with Crazy Cruz. Seeming to enjoy his company, the mystery woman sat next to him while he signed photos and memorabilia for fans.
During a Q&A session at the annual paranormal conference, one audience member asked Cruz if he was single.
“I’m very much taken,” Cruz said with a chuckle.
And there you have it, folks.
“Ivy, I need to go,” I shouted in my best attempt at a controlled voice. I would not start sobbing in Wicks Before Pricks. I flew out the back entrance and rounded the building, hopping into my Rover that was parked out front.
Now I knew why he hadn’t returned my texts. He’d moved on. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep focused as I drove the few miles to my cottage. Nutmeg bounded out the door as soon as I got home. Letting the sob echo through my empty house, I threw myself onto the couch.
How could I have been so naive? I asked myself. Of course I hadn’t measured up. But why did he have to carry on like our time had meant something to him? You are such a dum-dum, Lexi.
After a while Nutmeg barked to be let in, dragging me out of my personal pity party. Wiping my nose on my sleeve, I opened the door to allow him inside. He took one look at me and whined, rubbing up against my leg.
“I’ll be okay, little fella,” I promised, leaning down to pet him.
I changed into a tank and shorts and made my kitchen my sanctuary, methodically fulfilling orders and carefully keeping my mind blank.
That lasted all of three hours.
Knowing my clients wouldn’t appreciate my tears in their Sweet Stuff orders, I packed up the cookies I had and went to take a long bubble bath. Pulling a book by my favorite author from my shelf, I let my tears run their course again before I sank into the tub, losing myself in the story.
By eight o’clock I’d returned several carefully worded texts to both Eliza and Ivy, avoiding any mention of Cruz or his new flame. I told them I was too busy to join them for poker night at the Spoon.
Which was true. I was busy reading Tiffany King’s latest novel while spread across my couch. I could always count on getting swept up in her stories. Shedding happy tears by the end of the book, I moaned and pressed my face to the shiny cover. “Why can’t my life be like that?”
A knock on the door interrupted my troubles.
“Just go in,” a voice insisted. “She gave us keys for a reason.” The sound of metal scraping against metal preceded a loud oath. “We should have come sooner, E. I think she’s dead.”
“Shut up,” I groaned, throwing a pillow at Ivy, who was standing in the living room with a pizza box and a carton of ice cream in her hands.
“Oh, Lexi, sweetie,” Eliza murmured, sliding around Ivy and settling onto the couch beside me. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I’m fine,” I answered, forcing what I could muster of a smile onto my face. “I just needed a good cry.”
“What are you listening to?” Ivy asked, stalking over to the music dock.
“Sarah McLachlan,” I answered, sniffing. “She gets me.” I pulled a pillow toward me and hugged it like it was a life preserver.
Ivy shook her head and shut the music off. “Yeah, well, I’ll take care of the jerk. Don’t worry,” Ivy growled, grabbing a slice of pizza before retrieving a spoon and handing it to me with the ice cream.
“How did you know?” I asked, accepting the frozen chocolate nirvana she offered.
“Dorothy told us,” Eliza answered, grabbing some tissues and mopping up my face.
“Dorothy!” I scolded, but of course she didn’t show. No fair.
“She said you were crying and whimpering about Cruz falling for some redhead,” Ivy said, taking the canvas bag Eliza had brought in and rummaging inside it before unearthing three shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. She handed me the first shot and arched her eyebrows. “So?”
I held out my phone, which had the article up. Eliza and Ivy hovered closer together and read it.
“Asshole,” Ivy muttered, tossing back her shot.
“Well, let’s not assume anything,” Eliza said, taking a dainty sip of her tequila. She wasn’t much of a drinker. “Why don’t you ask Cruz yourself, Lex?”
“Because I sent him several texts after he left and he never responded. I’m not going to make a spectacle of myself. I have personal standards, and being a naive, needy woman is not one of them.” I held out my empty shot glass toward Ivy, who refilled it. I swallowed again, feeling the warmth burn its way through my stomach. Trading the glass for my spoon, I met their inquisitive stares.
“Try again,” Ivy said, nudging my phone toward me. “Right now.”
“No,” I answered stubbornly. “I really will be fine. I just needed a good cry night.” Watching Eliza’s eyebrows lift, I knew Dorothy had blabbed that I’d been a mess all day. “Okay, fine, I needed a good cry day, all right? Even I’m entitle
d to a few of those.” I shoveled some chocolate into my mouth and hummed as it traveled the same path the tequila had.
“Do you want me—” Ivy began.
I shook my head, eyes wide. “Please don’t say anything to him. It’ll just make it more uncomfortable.”
Ivy pursed her lips before lifting a shoulder. “If you say so, but if you change your mind—”
“I won’t,” I replied, offering her some ice cream. “But thanks.”
“You got it, Sparkles.” She grabbed the spoon from my hand and took a giant bite.
The nickname made me smile, reminding me of the candle she’d made. “Hey, Eliza. Did you know Ivy named a candle after me? It smells like sunshine, it’s pink, and it’s called Princess Sparkles.” I pointed to where it sat lit on my kitchen counter, flame dancing.
“Uh, jealous,” Eliza responded, grabbing a second slice of pizza. “It sounds and smells amazing. Hey, Lex, can we turn on the TV?” she asked me. I nodded and tossed her the remote. She scanned through the channels before leaving it on a popular reality show about sisters that I knew for a fact she detested.
I glanced to my right where Ivy was shoveling in ice cream and then to my left, where Eliza was again sipping her shot of tequila with a pained expression. Suddenly I felt much better.
I had the best friends in the world.
CHAPTER 22
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Eliza asked me the next afternoon. She and Ivy had stayed with me until Jake and Oliver picked them up after they were finished playing poker. The girls had offered to stay the night, but I declined. It was nice of them, but they’d done their part. I was officially out of my funk.
“Are you kidding? I’ve only been waiting my whole life to see you try on wedding gowns,” I replied as we pulled into the bridal emporium for our scheduled appointment.
My phone rang and I glanced down, expecting to see my mom’s name pop up on the screen. She was concerned I was moping. Dorothy and her loose lips had brought Mom up to speed on my little bump in the road last night.
Cruz’s name stared up at me instead. What could he possibly want?
“Who is it?” Ivy popped her head around my seat and looked at my phone. “Give me,” she demanded, reaching for it. “I’ve got a word or two for him.”
“Ivy,” I drew out, holding the phone as far away from her as possible. “Please don’t make a scene.” Ivy grunted as she started climbing over the seat to reach the phone I was now holding out the window.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Eliza said, waving her hands in the air. “How about we act like twenty-three-year-olds, huh?”
Sighing dramatically, Ivy retreated into the backseat and climbed out of the car. Thankfully, the phone had stopped ringing, and I hadn’t had to choose whether to answer it since Ivy had caused such a distraction.
“He’s dodging my calls, by the way,” Ivy informed me as we walked toward the emporium. “I’ve tried to call him a few times the last few weeks and he won’t answer. I left a colorful voicemail for him last night after I got home.” Ivy’s thin lips drew up in a smirk. “He’ll pay.”
“There’s nothing for him to pay for. I knew what could happen when I started dating him,” I reminded her as my phone beeped, signaling I had a voicemail. Ivy’s eyes lit up and she zoned in on the phone I placed in my bag as I shook my head. “This afternoon is all about Eliza. Let’s find her a wedding dress!”
I’d awoken this morning feeling fresh and ready to throw all my energy into my best friend’s wedding. After all, Eliza wasn’t exactly a planning sort, so she needed all the help she could get. She didn’t want any frills or fuss, but I was determined to squeeze in a few little things. This was her and Jake’s big day. They deserved the best, and I would put all my effort into seeing that they got it.
“Eliza?” asked a woman dressed in a tight black skirt and shiny blue blouse, scanning our faces.
“That’s me,” Eliza said, stepping forward and shaking the woman’s hand.
“Welcome. I’m Bobbi. I’ll be in charge of making sure you find your dream gown for your special day.” Bobbi smiled, turning to Ivy and me. “And you must be the maid and matron of honor. What a privilege. I’m certain we’ll find dresses that will complement each other but still allow for your … personalities to shine through.” She eyed Ivy and her black ensemble with a tight smile. I smoothed out my fuchsia skirt and prayed for the poor woman who had her work cut out for her.
Bobbi led us into a back room with racks as far as the eye could see. “Someone shoot me,” Ivy mumbled, earning an elbow in the ribs from a grinning Eliza.
“It won’t be so bad,” Eliza promised, flipping through a few dresses on the rack closest to us. “Bobbi, I’m looking for something simple, flowing. Nothing extravagant or flashy.”
“And what’s your wedding date again, dear?” Bobbi asked, making notes on a clipboard.
“February.”
“Oh.” Bobbi glanced up with wide eyes before madly scribbling something down. “Okay, I’m certain we’ll find something on such short notice.” She gave us a pained expression before turning and speaking into a microphone pinned to her collar, letting the person on the other end know she had an “emergency dress situation.”
“A courthouse wedding isn’t sounding so bad right about now, is it?” Ivy muttered, crossing her arms. I flipped through the dresses, ignoring Ivy and making quick work of vetoing the horrendous ones.
“Oh! What about this?” I asked, pulling out a ballgown encrusted with shiny rhinestones. It was beautiful.
“Not really my style,” Eliza replied, lifting a shoulder.
“Come on, Eliza. It’s everything a bride’s supposed to wear on her wedding day,” I cajoled, running my hand over the soft fabric. “At least try it on?”
Eliza chuckled. “I’d look silly in it. It’s much more suited for someone with a sparkly personality like yourself.”
I hugged the dress to my chest, earning a warning frown from Bobbi. “One day,” I said wistfully, placing it back where I’d found it.
“Let’s get this party started, shall we?” Aggie called out, announcing her arrival and frightening Bobbi. “What are you looking for, Eliza? Maybe something like that?” She pointed to a dress that was essentially a semi-transparent corset with a short skirt.
“Hard pass,” Eliza choked, shaking her head. “Something more like this.” She held up a plain ivory dress that didn’t have a single embellishment on it.
“Booooring,” Ivy announced with a frown. “If you’re going to do this, at least do it right.” She held up a dark purple dress with a spiderweb sewn on the middle of it. “Now this is a wedding dress.”
“Oh dear,” Bobbi mumbled, bringing her hand to her chest as she looked at Ivy’s selection. “Let’s get started, shall we?” Her smile wobbled a bit as she showed Aggie, Ivy, and me to a waiting room with a small podium and mirrors where Eliza would model the dresses she tried on.
Three hours later, all the dresses Eliza had tried on were starting to look the same.
“I’m going to eat my arm,” Ivy groaned. She was sitting sideways in her chair, feet dangling over the upholstered arm, completely ignoring the peeved stares of the shop’s employees.
“We’re here for Eliza,” I reminded her, plucking a candy bar from my purse and tossing it at her. I’d come prepared.
“Thanks, Sparkles,” Ivy said, ripping into the chocolate bar.
“You can’t really blame Eliza. The poor girl’s been put in some atrocious picks by that consultant lady,” Aggie sighed.
I nodded absently as I stared at the blinking phone that caught my attention while digging for the candy bar. I had missed three calls and had two voicemails. All from Cruz.
I bit my lip, zoning out as Ivy and Aggie chatted about the horrible dresses Eliza had showed us. Everything in me wanted to hear Cruz’s voice again, but the smart part of me knew I was in for a woe-is-me relapse if I listened to his voicemails. Deciding to tort
ure myself later, I slid my phone back in the bag.
“Oh my goodness,” Aggie gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth.
“Not bad, E.” Ivy crumpled up the candy bar wrapper and tossed it toward a trash can by a disconcerted Bobbi, who had lost her chipper demeanor about two hours and twenty dresses ago.
Eliza stood in front of us radiating beauty in a simple ivory lace gown that flowed over her curves.
“What do you think, Lex?” she asked me, raising her eyebrows.
“I think you found your gown,” I warbled, sniffing back happy tears.
“I’ll take it,” Eliza told Bobbi, who leaned her head back and thanked the heavens.
“Excellent choice,” Bobbi said, recovering and pasting on her business face. “You won’t even need to get it fitted. It fits you like a glove.”
Eliza, Ivy, and I piled into Eliza’s Fit after she had paid the bill and left with the gown in hand.
“Are you going to check your messages?” Ivy asked me from the passenger’s side seat on our way back to Sage Springs. She glanced over her shoulder and looked at me knowingly.
“What messages?” Eliza asked, locking eyes with me in the rearview mirror.
“The ones from Cruz,” Ivy answered for me.
I hadn’t checked my phone since I’d discovered the awaiting voicemails, but somehow Ivy always knew things she shouldn’t. “How do you know about them?” I asked.
“It’s a friend thing.” Ivy shrugged. “And I might have swiped your phone from your bag when you were in the bathroom before we left.”
“Ivy!” Eliza said disapprovingly.
Hunting through my bag, I came up empty on the phone search.
“Looking for this?” Ivy asked, dangling my cell between her thumb and index finger.
Huffing, I swiped it from her. “Did you listen to them?” I asked, kind of hoping she had so that I wouldn’t have to listen to them myself. She could just paraphrase for me, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.
“Of course not,” she replied, shooting me an offended glare. “I’m not that much of a snoop. I just wanted to see what made you look so upset earlier. I thought he might have been sending you texts or something.”
Cinnamon and Sunshine Page 17
