"What’s next on the agenda?" I asked, handing the clipboard over. She tucked it under her arm and checked her tablet.
"You’re tutoring at the community center at two. But have a wedding dress lunch date with Miss Kirkson first."
I nodded, suppressing a sigh. "I’d better get a move on then."
"Shall I call the car?"
I glanced at my watch. "No, I’ll walk. It’s a beautiful day."
New York City in spring. Beautiful one day, a muddy slush the next. The stroll through Central Park where the leaves were budding and the birds were singing and the sun was shining and couples were frolicking would do me good.
Apologies, my cynicism was showing.
I swapped heels for boots, tucking them into my new tote as I left the building. Biting wind aside, the day was entirely pleasant. The sun shone valiantly through the clouds lending a few degrees of warmth. I should have taken the car but I needed the walk to get my head on straight. Duncan's comment had thrown me. I'd never thought others had tied Pete and I together.
Years ago, once I'd left my infatuation behind, I'd realized how ill-suited Pete and I would be together. He wanted a trophy wife. I wanted a purpose. While he liked signing checks and shaking hands, Pete had never grasped my need to interact with the people my charities helped. He worried I’d get hurt, it hadn’t happened, but there'd been some close calls.
I felt at once frustrated and embarrassed, flustered and agitated. These emotions were outrageously inconvenient. I was like the little old lady who lived in a shoe, I didn’t know what to do – or, in this case, what to feel.
The walk from my Upper East Side office down to Ada Blue, an exclusive high-end wedding boutique, didn't take nearly enough time to sort my feelings. I stepped in the door and was immediately embraced by a sense of muted anticipation.
A woman dressed in dove gray glided across the plush carpet towards me.
"Welcome to Ada Blue, I’m Julianne, you must be Ms. Kirkson. You’re right on time." The smiling sales assistant greeted me in hushed, reverent tones.
"Ah no. Maid of honor. Molly Archer," I held up my ring-less left hand. "Just a sexy single in your area."
Her smile froze, eyes widening. A look of pity crossed her face before she cleared her throat.
"If you’ll follow me?" The stylish assistant turned, leading me down a hall and into a private dressing room complete with large sitting area. The plush suite was decorated in soft greys and contrasting blacks paired with bronze accents.
"Something to drink?" She asked, waiting as I dropped my tote by the love seat and started to remove my coat.
"No, thank you. Not at the moment." My gaze caught on the dresses hanging from a rack on the side of the room. The sales assistant took my coat, heading back to the front of the store as I drifted over to the clouds of silk and lace. In the dark room, they stood out like moonlight on a midnight lake – gorgeous but a little off putting. My fingers grazed the skirt of an ivory princess cut. It shimmered, the silk dancing under my fingertips.
"I like that one too." Bess’ voice shattered my trance-like state. I jerked my hand back, twirling on my heel to face the door. She stood in it flanked by her mother, her eight bridesmaids, Peter’s mother and, for some bizarre reason, Josh.
I opened my mouth to explain or justify or deny, I wasn’t sure, but the moment was already gone. They all bustled into the room, the girls chattering, the mother’s gossiping and Josh looking entirely out of place in this feminine wonderland.
Hands gently shuffled me out of the way as the women fell on the dresses like hens in the farmyard, pecking over this princess cut and that ballgown, cooing sweetly to each other.
I shifted to the sofa, dropping beside Josh.
"Surprised to see you here."
He winced. "They needed a stand-in."
I raised an eyebrow.
His mouth twisted. "Apparently you can’t choose the dress without knowing how it will look next to the groom. I’m the stand-in."
I smothered a laugh under a cough. "They don’t have a date, venue or theme but she’ll have a dress?"
He sighed, dropping his head back and reaching up with two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. "They discussed it ad-nauseum last night, and the night before, and the night before that. They’ve settled on September 16th, at your Hudson Valley winery."
I blinked. My winery?
"But-" The words sounded strangled as they emerged from my mouth. "But that’s my wedding venue."
