by Nancy Warren
In love? “Really?”
“I’ll be honest with you. I had my doubts you could pull off this engagement you so recklessly announced, but then I read that article and saw the photographs.” She passed the tablet over and Gabby could see she’d enlarged one of the pictures from the interview. It showed her and Wade while they’d been speaking with Phoebe. It was a candid shot. They were sitting so close they were touching. She’d said something, and then turned to him and put her hand on his knee. “Look at the way you two are staring at each other, and how comfortable you are physically. You made me believe you’re in love, and they don’t come more cynical than me.”
She glanced up, startled. The only other person, apart from Wade, who knew this engagement was fake was Sarah. And she believed they were in love. A warm glow began in her stomach, soon doused by a cold shiver of fear. She needed to get this bloody curse lifted, then she’d worry about who was in love with whom and what they were going to do about it.
“Did you choose your gown yet?”
“Yes, a red Valentino.” It was a pull-out-all-the-stops gown. A rich, true red, cut to figure-flattering perfection that swept the floor with a hint of royalty. It was the color of passion and certainly a center-of-attention kind of dress. Gabby’s favorite kind. Since they were apparently doing show-and-tell this morning, she got up for her own tablet, which was on her desktop, and nearly bumped into a large potted plant. With a muttered curse she changed direction and headed for her desk.
“You’ve been redecorating, I see.”
“Feng Shui. It seems my desk was in the romance corner. Now it’s in the money corner.”
“I’m glad you didn’t move your client seating area.”
“Luckily, it was already in the communication zone.” She could not believe she was desperate enough to remove this curse that she’d hired Marlene’s Feng Shui expert. Now she kept getting disoriented in her own studio. She retrieved her tablet and showed Sarah a photo of her in the gown.
The woman nodded. “Perfect. Can you send me a copy? I’ll make sure the décor complements the gown. Wade is wearing a tux, I assume?”
“Yes.”
Sarah nodded briskly, made a note. “We’ll get him a rose boutonniere in the same red.” Then she glanced up. “Even though we’ve chosen media that has a broad reach and also higher standards than the Wolf Dixons of journalism, you’ll still need to be on your guard.”
“I know. I’ll go over the talking points you made me for the Dixon interview again. I’ll be fine.”
“What about Wade?”
“Wade will get one talking point. Don’t say anything stupid.”
Sarah chuckled. “Maybe I should talk to him and give him some basic sound bites.”
“Fine.”
Sarah stood. “And if you two have had a tiff, you need to kiss and make up before the party. Understood?”
She felt as though she were being reprimanded by a strict teacher. She let out a huff of annoyance. “Yes.”
“See you on Saturday.”
She had barely settled to work when Marlene called. “How’s the Feng Shui working out? Is the Ch’i flowing better?”
“I don’t know how Ch’i is doing, but I bruised my shin in the family section.”
“Give it time.”
She could not believe she was so desperate she was willing to take advice from a six-foot tall former stripper. But, there was something about Marlene that she trusted. Like Gabby, she was a woman who had taken control of an unsatisfactory life and made it better. Marlene was honest and openhearted and she respected her.
“Okay, next step. You need to get all the brides together.”
“All the brides?” If she got those girls in here, she suspected she’d want to line them up and smack them.
“Every bride that was supposed to wear that dress needs to be in the same room with the dress and you.”
“And then what? We do incantations and dance naked under the full moon?”
“Well, you could try that.” Marlene actually seemed to take her sarcasm seriously. “But I’d start with a smudge ceremony.”
“A smudge ceremony.”
“Sure. It’s a native tradition. You burn a special kind of sage and use it to purify things. I do a smudge ceremony every time I move, it clears the house of old spirits. I also smudge any second hand jewelry or vintage clothing.”
“And you can do this smudging business?” Marlene was a woman of many talents.
“In your case, I’d call in an expert. I have a friend. She’s psychic and sort of a shaman. Her name is Leandra and she runs a fantastic crystal shop downtown. You get the brides together, and make sure you have the dress there as well. I’ll get Leandra.”
“And you’re sure this will work?” Even though she was completely skeptical she was also desperate. If she’d come to believe in the curse, she supposed it was only logical she should believe it could be lifted.
“Oh yeah. Leandra’s great. And, if the smudging doesn’t work, she’s got some contacts with the local coven.”
“Coven? As in witches?”
“Sure. There are spells they can cast to lift curses. There’s one with a broken mirror, I think, that reflects the ill will back to the person who cursed you. And there are potions you can try.”
She didn’t like the sound of anything involving broken mirrors and she most certainly wasn’t going to drink anything that could contain eye of newt.
“This is like a mysterious disease. You keep trying different cures until you hit on the one that works.”
“You’re saying my dress is like a disease?”
Marlene had a great laugh. Earthy and rich. “Not the dress, honey, the curse. The curse is like a disease. But we can’t cure it until we know what kind of disease. Is this bacteria? Is it a virus? Cancer? We don’t know until we keep trying treatments and we discover what works.”
“It better not be cancer.” She glanced at the dress, which she still kept with her. It hung in the romance section of her studio but she didn’t care. She liked where it was and wasn’t about to move it.
Gabby called Kate Winton-Jones first. When Gabby explained about the smudge ceremony she seemed hesitant. So, the designer laid on the guilt. After all, if Kate had gone ahead and married Ted like she was supposed to do, everything would have been fine. Luckily, she didn’t have to press too hard. She could tell Kate was one of those laudable women who tried to do the right thing. Abandoning her wedding, her groom, and her designer gown, had no doubt cost her some sleep.
She agreed to make herself available and Gabby was able to check one name off her list. Since Ashley Carnarvon was Ted’s cousin, he had given her updated contact information for Ashley as well. Ashley had married the up-and-coming and very sexy screenwriter Bennett Saeger. Gabby felt that Ashley, too, could have prevented the disaster if only she had worn the damned gown when she married the sexy scribbler. But, no, once again a dress most women would be thrilled to wear had been scorned. She’d passed the dress on to a bridesmaid as though it were any old thing.
Fortunately, Ashley seemed to think it would be a great lark to get together with the other brides. “This is so awesome,” she said with enthusiasm. Gabby was glad that someone found this fiasco entertaining because she certainly did not. From Ashley, she got the information for Tasmine Ford who was just back from her honeymoon with Ashley’s jilted groom. How nice for her. Since she didn’t seem very surprised by Gabby’s request, it was obvious that Ashley had already spoken to her. She didn’t seem to need much convincing. Gabby got the feeling the brides found this whole thing rather amusing. She might have too if it were someone else in her predicament. As she prepared to hang up, Tasmine said, “I can put you in touch with Megan O’Reilly too.”
“There’s another bride?” She practically screamed the words. “Don’t tell me she rejected my poor dress as well.”
“Megan O’Reilly? She was saving up to buy the dress when it disappeared from the
vintage store. She was heartbroken. She probably tried it on more times than any of us.”
Gabby put a hand to her forehead. She could not have believed this nightmare would get worse.
“I met her when she came looking for me to see if I had taken the dress back. I was the one who took it to the vintage store in the first place.” The woman’s tone was slightly acidic and Gabby had to fight to keep her temper in control. Tasmine continued, “She was really upset to lose that dress. It looks amazing on her. Honestly, better than on any of us.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
“I’ve seen her. She posed for some advertising photos. They were all over the Internet.”
Gabby knew those photos well. She still wanted to grind her molars when she thought of how those ads had cheapened her brand. “The redhead?”
“Yes. The redhead. She was heartbroken when that dress was taken.”
She did not like the way that young woman interpreted events. She said, “I did not steal that dress. I paid full price for that gown even though I was the one who designed it.”
“Well, they kept telling everyone it wasn’t for sale.”
“Nonsense!” she snapped. “What kind of shop owner keeps a dress in a window that’s not for sale?”
“I think you should talk to her. She loved that dress and I bet her energy’s all over that puppy. Anyway, here’s her cell number.”
Gabby wrote it down but, in fact, she already had Megan O’Reilly’s contact information. Salvador had interviewed her on the phone, since he screened all potential clients. Megan O’Reilly had been very specific. She wanted to wear the gown that had recently been for sale in Joe’s Past and Present vintage store.
She hadn’t yet found time to return that call.
Gabby tried to convince herself she didn’t need this Megan person in on the smudge ceremony since she hadn’t scorned the gown. But Tasmine’s words haunted her. “Her energy is all over that dress.” If that were true, then Megan O’Reilly had to be included. She paced up and down her studio for a few minutes trying to work out what she would say and then, she picked up the phone.
“Megan O’Reilly,” the chirpy young woman announced when she picked up her cell phone.
“Megan. My name is Evangeline. I understand you’ve been trying to reach me.”
“Oh, wow, thanks for calling me back.” She was happy to note that at least this bride sound thrilled to hear from her.
“What can I do for you?”
“Well, this is sort of awkward but I was hoping that you might consider . . .” She let out a breath. “I’m so flustered I can’t even speak straight. I wore your beautiful gown for a photo shoot for Joe’s Past and Present. I’m engaged and I really want to wear that dress for my wedding. Is there anything we could do to make that happen?”
She liked the edge of desperation in the young woman’s tone. She hadn’t heard that in far too long. A woman should be eager to wear one of her gowns.
She said, “It’s strange you should call. I’m having a little get together with all the brides who were supposed to wear that particular gown. I’d be very happy if you would join us and then we can talk about how I can help you.”
Tasmine Ford was right. If the redhead had modeled that gown and hoped to wear it for her wedding, she was definitely a link in the chain of misery that wrapped around Evangeline’s business like the chains clanking behind Marley’s ghost.
Chapter 10
On the night of her engagement party, Gabby had Carlos drop her at Wade’s hotel. The party wasn’t scheduled to begin for an hour and she wanted to be sure he understood how important this evening was to her.
“You can have the rest of the night off, Carlos.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Wade insisted on hiring a car and driver, since he is completely controlling.”
“Don’t know anyone else like that,” Carlos said in a voice low enough she could pretend she hadn’t heard him.
When she swept into the lobby of the hotel, even wearing a summer weight full-length coat that hid the glorious gown, she drew attention. She barely noticed as she headed for the elevator and then realized Wade hadn’t even given her his room number.
It seemed particularly galling that the man she was engaged to wouldn’t even share his hotel room number with her. She couldn’t possibly ask the hotel front desk since she felt as though all of LA must be following the story of the curse and her sudden engagement.
She was about to call her fake fiancé when she saw a young woman who had the air of a Sarah Marsden in training carrying a florist’s see-through box. One red boutonniere lay within it.
Gabby walked up to the woman. “Hello.”
The young woman’s eyes opened wide. “Hi, Evangeline. Wow.”
Yes, definitely this one needed a bit of polish and sophistication yet. “You must work for Sarah?”
“I do. I’m Brie.”
“Hi, Brie.” She held out her hand. “I’m going to Mr. Davenport’s room right now. I’ll take that.”
“Sure, of course. Um, Sarah asked me to make sure he’d reviewed his talking points.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. You get back to the ballroom and make sure everything is perfect. When Garry Greenstein gets there, I want him to be the happiest, most pampered man in LA.” She took the floral box and confirmed the hotel room number was on the delivery label. “At least, until after his toast.”
Brie laughed and, still looking a little starry-eyed, turned to leave.
When she got to Wade’s hotel room door she took a moment to steady herself. They hadn’t fought exactly, over him blurting out to Cheerio! that they couldn’t come to the wedding, but they hadn’t spoken since the interview, either. She needed him on good form tonight, she reminded herself, so she put on her best smile before knocking on the door.
He opened it and seemed taken aback to find her there. “Gabby! You’re early.”
“I know.” Most likely he’d intended to meet her in the lobby. “May I come in?”
He hesitated for a second then said, “Of course.”
He was dressed but for his bow tie and his jacket. He looked wonderful. If a bit distant, as though he didn’t trust himself too close to her.
She followed him inside. Even though he’d booked a suite, with a galley kitchen, a real bedroom and a living area with a state-of-the-art workstation, she still thought he’d have been more comfortable at her house.
The TV was on with one of those twenty-four hour news and business stations playing softly. “You want a drink before we go?”
“No. I want to make sure you memorized your talking points.”
His eyes gleamed briefly in amusement. “You want to run lines?”
“I want to make sure you don’t embarrass me.”
He turned back and stepped way up close, right in her personal space so they were all but touching. Even in her heels she had to tip her head to look him in the eye. “I will do my best not to embarrass you, but if you wanted a trained monkey to pretend he was going to marry you, you picked the wrong man.” He picked up his tie, went to the mirror above a mahogany credenza, flipped up his shirt collar and slipped the black silk tie around his neck. Their gazes met in the mirror. “I am appearing in the media too, you know, and while I may not be a celebrity fashion designer, I do have clients and business associates who read papers, magazines, blogs and who watch TV.” He shifted the tie so the ends were even. “Or they have wives or girlfriends or kids who do.”
She hadn’t thought of how this had affected his business. She’d been too busy thinking about her own business.
“If it’s clear to everyone that I’m completely whipped, my clients are going to lose respect for me.”
“I think whipped might be going a bit far.”
“Do you?” he turned from the mirror and grabbed a computer printout. Shoved it at her. “This is my script of the things I’m allowed to say at my own engageme
nt party.”
Their gazes met and held. She could read his frustration. And he’d been nice enough to cross the country to do her this huge favor. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You can say whatever you want tonight.”
When he would have turned back to the mirror, she stopped him and took on the job of tying his bow tie herself. How many times had she performed this task for him? She could smell the sandalwood from whatever soap he’d used, feel the warmth coming off his body. “Can I tell Cheerio! Magazine and anyone else who wants to come to our wedding that it’s personal and they are not invited?”
She bit back a smile. She was not about to have a second argument about who was and was not invited to an event that wasn’t going to take place. “You can.”
“Thank you.”
She finished his tie, then flipped the collar down over her handiwork. “There. You look very nice.” And she lifted on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss.
He gazed down at her. “Kissing a man in his hotel room is a good way to make us late for the party.”
It was the expression in his eyes more than the words that made her heart rate speed up. “I thought this was strictly a favor from one old friend to another?”
He picked up his jacket and slipped it on. “I might be softening my position.”
Men had begged to go out with her, they’d wooed her, flirted with her, one had stalked her to the point of a restraining order. They wrote poetry, film scripts they wanted her to star in, they sent flowers and jewelry and promised her the moon and stars. And Wade might be softening his position?
She raised her chin. “Lucky me.”
His grin was swift and lethal and she realized she’d been played.
She reached for the florist’s box. “I do understand how awkward this is for you and I’m sorry. After the engagement party, things won’t be so intense.”
She slipped the red rose through his buttonhole and fixed it in place. “There.” She didn’t even glance at the speaking notes knowing she would have to trust Wade. “Shall we go?”
