Blissed (Misfit Brides #1) (10 page)

And she owed his college fund a few more dimes for the profanity acrobatics in her head. “Whatever it is,” she said, “I’m sure we can fix it.”

“I had a meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Gregory last night,” Marilyn said, “and it appears Bliss Bridal’s annual dues were misplaced.”

Natalie sucked in a breath. The Gregorys were the treasurers and webmasters of Bliss’s Bridal Retailers Association. “Misplaced?”

“They’ve been located,” the QG said with a dismissive wave, “but the summer Guide to Bliss Brides has already gone to print.”

“You’re telling me Bliss Bridal isn’t in the Guide.” The mailing went out to thousands of brides all across Illinois, Indiana and Wisconsin. Exclusion meant even less visibility.

“That’s correct,” the QG said.

There went another full quarter to Noah’s college fund. “But we’re still listed on the Web site and in the e-mail newsletter.”

Because they had to be. Three quarters of the boutique’s Web site traffic came from BRA referral links. Bliss Bridal’s Pinterest, Facebook and Twitter presences were solid, but most of their followers were past customers. Mom had never invested in other ads because they’d always had support from the BRA. Natalie didn’t have the budget to play around with any advertising that wasn’t a sure thing.

Marilyn’s lips made a calculated turn toward mock regret. “Bliss Bridal was removed from the Web site when the dues didn’t appear to have been paid in time.”

“But we can be put back,” Natalie said.

“Whenever Mr. and Mrs. Gregory have time to work on the Web site again. And the e-mail newsletter has already been sent this month. Very busy time, with Knot Fest just around the corner, of course.”

“Of course,” Natalie said. But only because
fix it, you evil bat
wouldn’t help.

She would call the Gregorys’ son, Max, to get Bliss Bridal re-listed. They’d grown up together and were moderately friendly. He did most of the web stuff in his parents’ place.

A whole new generation was being groomed to take over The Aisle.

“Rest assured Bliss Bridal will be in the fall mailing,” Marilyn said, but Natalie heard the unspoken
if you’re still here
. The
And you won’t be
Marilyn silently added was deafening.

Which meant it didn’t much matter if Max got Bliss Bridal listed again.

“We look forward to it,” Natalie said. Because it was what Noah needed to hear.

Marilyn conveyed a firm
No, you don’t
with the barest waggle of her eyebrows, then disappeared back into Heaven’s Bakery.

And Natalie breathed a sigh of relief.

Because if the Queen General had heard about CJ and Natalie last night, there would’ve been a bigger issue than Bliss Bridal’s being excluded from the BRA’s advertising.

Her skin prickled, and she cast a covert glance around the parking lot and across the street. Paranoia, maybe, but the only thing worse than the QG hearing about something would be the QG witnessing something, and Natalie wouldn’t rest easy until long after she’d heard CJ was gone.

She shivered.

“Mommy?” Noah whispered.

She herded him toward the door. “Hmm?”

“I wish I was big as a dinosaur.”

For all her personal problems in the last five years, she’d gotten the best reward in him. She dropped and squeezed him in a hug. “Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

Inside the shop, Natalie shook off the feeling of being watched and put on coffee in the small kitchenette. She and Noah dashed across the street to the teahouse for fresh scones to serve as today’s refreshments for their brides’ entourages. Then she got Noah set up with crayons and a dinosaur coloring book at his little table in the corner of the office and powered up the computer. She had three brides to connect with on Pinterest so her bridal consultants could get a feel for their styles before their appointments this week, inventory to tackle and a certain kiss to not think about.

Two of those tasks proved easier than the third.

Amanda arrived just before eleven to get the rest of the shop in order. At noon, they opened for business.

Natalie jumped every time the door chimed.

She had no reason to think CJ would come here, but she had no reason to think he wouldn’t either.

It had been a lot easier to dislike him before he brought Dad home. Before he made a point of demonstrating he was more than just the moment her marriage had fallen apart.

Before she’d caught on to the fact that he was a man.

That kiss had been unexpected.

Unexpected and thrilling and horrifying, just as it had been five years ago. And, like five years ago, thoroughly guilt-inspiring.

At least this time, they were both single. As if that were any consolation, given the mess that was Nat’s life.

But for all the problems he’d brought into her life, the man was right.

He didn’t kiss horribly.

“Mommy!” Noah said.

She jumped and dropped her fingers from where they’d been rubbing her lips, heat gathering in her cheeks. She’d meant to switch over to the inventory software, but instead, she was staring at the last bride’s honeymoon Pinterest board. Noah was practicing his inquisitive half squint on her.

“Yes, sweetheart?” she said. 

He pointed his purple crayon through the slats of the blinds on the back window. “Aunt Lindsey’s here.”

Lindsey—the taller, blonder, non–childbearing-hipped Castellano sister—finger-waved through the back window. Her nails were tiger-striped with neon green and pink, and they stood out over her fingerless ivory gloves. Natalie slipped to the back door and let her in. “No clients this week?” She gestured to Lindsey’s nails.

“Hot date.” Lindsey fanned herself. “Smoking, actually.”

Her relationships resembled the life cycle of a fruit fly in hell—short and scorching. Most ended with her assistant breaking things off for her. Yet most of the guys she’d dated treated her like an old friend. She’d even been in a couple of their weddings.

“So he’s getting dumped tomorrow?” Natalie said.

“Pretty much.”

Lindsey knew how to pick ’em. No complications there.

She wiggled her fancy fingernails. “I’m painting them back to normal tonight. Want to come over? I have sour mix.”

“Can’t. Knot Fest meeting.”

“Aunt Lindsey, what’s a hot date?” Noah leaned out of the office, wiggling a foot behind him.

Lindsey winked at him. “It’s when you turn up the heater really high in your house and pretend you’re at the beach.”

His little dark brows furrowed over the crease between his eyes. “Did it catch on fire?”

“Fire?” Natalie repeated.

“There was smoke,” Noah said. “Right, Aunt Lindsey?”

The things Noah learned from his aunt. “How
do
you explain that one, Aunt Lindsey?”

Lindsey’s grin would’ve inspired jealousy if Natalie hadn’t known the bags beneath Lindsey’s eyes came from too many hours at work rather than one night of adult activities.

“My electric s’more maker overheated,” Lindsey said. “It was ugly, little man.
Ugly
.”

His lip trembled. “Can you get a new one?”

“Are you talking to the awesomest aunt in the whole world or what? Of course I can get a new one.”

“And it’ll make
big huge giant
marshmallows?” Noah’s pure hope made Natalie believe marshmallows were the way to world peace.

Lindsey scrunched up her nose and twisted her lips to the side. “We’ll see what we can do. You drawing pictures today? Think you can draw me a picture of a dinosaur in a wedding dress?”

Noah’s cheeks split into a grin almost as bright as his eyes. “Yeah!”

He darted back into the office, taking a bit of Natalie’s heart with him. For all the trouble she’d had in the rest of her life over her failed marriage, she wouldn’t trade her past for the world. Because she’d gotten Noah. He was a damn good kid. And that was another dime she’d happily part with.

She wanted to scamper back to the office with him and color dinosaur pictures, but she had grown-up issues to face instead. She propped herself against the wall. Lindsey tucked her hands into the pockets of her ivory knit overcoat and leaned against the opposite wall. “You could’ve warned me Dad was hungover,” she said.

“Is he still mad?”

“
Mad
is such a nebulous term.”

“Shit.”

“You charge yourself double on Sundays?”

She needed to start charging herself half before she went broke. “I should’ve just said
thank you
when he offered me the shop.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I appreciate that he believes in me.” Nat didn’t need to add the
but
.

Because Lindsey knew. She wasn’t very popular in Bliss either.

“He’s packing for a little fishing trip right now,” Lindsey said. “He’ll cool down, you’ll cool down, and maybe when he gets back, you two can be rational adults putting the pieces of your lives back together. Things change. Give him some time to get used to it.”

Natalie gave Lindsey the
seriously?
look. Dad had spent four years denying Lindsey’s law specialty until she marched into the house with police photos of a battered woman.
Is the sanctity of marriage more important than her life?
Lindsey had said.
Society needs me to terminate unwanted marriages. Deal with it.

Since that day, he’d told everyone who asked that his younger daughter was in the family business and his older daughter was on a mission to save the world. Lindsey handled other cases too—adoptions, child support, prenuptial agreements—but when you grew up in the Most Married-est Town on Earth, the only thing that mattered was your respect for and participation in holy matrimony.

Lindsey shrugged. “What else can you do?”

Noah popped around the corner. “Aunt Lindsey? Do you want a pink or purple or green or red or blue dinosaur?”

“Pink with blue polka dots,” Lindsey said.

Noah giggled and disappeared again.

Natalie scrubbed her hands over her cheeks. “Do you think he’ll forgive me for leaving?” Once the shop was packed up and sold, she would leave. Bliss was no place for a divorced woman to raise a son.

“Dad?”

“Noah. He’s finally adjusting without Mom here. What happens when Dad’s not there every day for him too?”

The last six months had taught her what she was capable of, but it also helped her realize something else.

One day Dad wouldn’t be around to be Noah’s role model anymore.

What would she do then?

“You two will be fine,” Lindsey said. “You’re already doing a great job with him. Besides, you know I’ll fix whatever you screw up.”

Natalie squinted at her. She gave an unexpectedly bright smile, the kind of smile that usually meant she was wearing her favorite smiley face panties, and some of the tension left Natalie’s chest and windpipe.

“So,” Lindsey said. “The confessional, huh?”

“Oh, shut the hell up,” Natalie grumbled. No sense asking where she heard.

Everyone
would’ve heard by now.

Lindsey’s grin got bigger, but there was a sympathetic bent to it. “So did you two have a nice chat? The story I heard was a little fuzzy on details.”

Thank
God
. Double bonus that Lindsey hadn’t heard about last night’s kiss either. “Let’s just say I said a few things I wouldn’t have if I’d known who I was talking to.”

“You didn’t know it was him?”

“He was behind a screen. I thought I was talking to one of the guys in Billy Brenton’s band and that
he
was out in the foyer.”

“Billy who?”

“The country rock—never mind.” Lindsey hated country music. She wouldn’t care who CJ’s sister had toured with. “Point is,” Nat said, “I’m never speaking to anyone again about CJ Blue.”

Lindsey pursed her lips and repositioned herself against the wall. “How much cussing did you do?”

“Are we counting
Oh, gods
?”

“You were in a church.”

“And Noah’s college fund is about full for the year.”

“You could just watch your language.”

Natalie gave her the
shut up
eye again.

“Or,” Lindsey said, “you could quit the Knot Fest committee.”

And there, Natalie suspected, was the real point of Lindsey’s visit.

But she was wrong. Nat couldn’t quit. Not with the shape the Golden Husband Games committee was in. Then there was her morbid desire to withstand Marilyn Elias’s mental bruisings as long as she could. “I owe it to Mom to see the Games through.”

“Mom would understand.”

“Mom always understood.” Natalie thumped her head back on the wall. The wall that had been in the family for three generations. The wall that had survived decades of bridezillas, a few tornado scares and the flooding three years ago. The wall that would never belong to her.

Natalie had grown up here, prancing about the floor in oversize bridal shoes, modeling tiaras, dreaming of the day she’d graduate from homecoming and prom dresses to her wedding dress. The beautiful wedding dress, special ordered just for her—with intricate bead- and lacework on the strapless, drop-waist bodice, the yards and yards of bunched white organza making her look as though she were floating in a cloud—then modified to add sequins and sparkles into the skirt.

The dress she’d burned three months later.

But it had been almost five years now. Five years, and a few lifetimes’ worth of lessons from her parents and her son. Without Mom, Natalie had come to realize that the shop wasn’t something she should take for granted.

It was something she needed to own. Not the shop itself—she would never own the building, never own the dresses and accessories in it. But she needed to own her own history as she faced her future.

She needed to fit into herself again.

Hard to do when she didn’t much like herself. “You know I never thought to tell her
thank you
while she was alive?” she said.

“She knew, Nat.”

“Maybe. But there’s no one else who knows these Games as intricately as I do.”

“So they’ll learn.”