Playing for Keeps (7 page)

Nell beamed like a proud mama.

“No. No, no,
no
.” I pointed at my sisters. “Don’t you guys even
think
about ganging up on me. I won’t allow him to stay in the house.”

All three of them turned to me with baleful looks before they went back to ignoring me.

Chloe scratched George behind the ear. “I didn’t know you got a dog. He’s gorgeous.”

“George is a handsome baby, aren’t you, Georgie boy?” More kissy-faces at the dog.

I’ve never understood why people talked to dogs like they were babies. I’d never talked to a baby that way much less an animal.

George didn’t seem to mind though. He lapped up the attention like it was his due, panting in happiness, tail manically wagging.

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t we have an appointment at ten? We’re going to be late.”

Chloe quickly spooned the rest of her cereal into her mouth. Nell, who was kneeling on the floor fiddling with George’s collar, stuck her tongue out at me.

“Real grown up, Nell.” I grabbed my bag and put my sweater on. Portland is finicky, especially in April, so I took a raincoat too, just in case. I wrapped my toast in a napkin and opened the back door. “Let’s go.”

Chloe dumped her dishes in the sink and squeezed past me. “Come on, George. Let’s get out of here before the evil sister turns us into toads.”

He barked once, as if he agreed, and docilely followed her out, pulling Nell along with him.

I locked up and went to Nell’s car. They were all strapped in, including George, staring out the window at me.

“No way.” I shook my head. “George can’t go with us.”

Nell’s chin jutted out. “Why the hell not? It’s my car. You can’t dictate the rules in here.”

I looked at George and he stared back with big brown eyes. “Fine. As long as he stays on that side.” He was seatbelted in behind Nell’s seat. The chances that he’d barf on me if he got carsick were fairly minimal. Nell and Chloe might have some problems.

Smirking, I belted myself in.

I waited until we were on the road to say, “How is George adjusting to riding in the car? I don’t smell vomit.” I sniffed exaggeratingly.

Chloe sat up with a start. “What? George gets carsick?”

“Only twice,” Nell said defensively.

“And how many times has he ridden in the car?” I asked innocently.

That earned me a dirty look.

Chloe whacked Nell on the shoulder. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything? I’m the one he’s going to spray if he gets sick.”

I sat back, satisfied with myself. I tuned out Nell and Clo’s bickering—I’d had years of experience at that—and watched the cars we passed. Nell had been a racecar driver in another life.

Unfortunately, we arrived at the store before I was prepared. I glanced at the window and for a moment I thought I was going to hyperventilate. There was a mannequin dressed in the puffiest wedding dress you could imagine. It was surrounded by two others in the most horrid pink dresses ever designed. They had bows, ruffles,
and
lace. I was surprised they didn’t have a staff and sheep to go with them.

Visions of bridesmaid dresses danced before my eyes, kind of similar to the zombie sequence in the Thriller video, only the dresses were shimmying toward me like the undead, reaching out to get me.

I turned around to run but Nell grabbed my arm. “Hell no, you’re going in.”

“But someone should keep an eye on George.” I implored him to help, pleading with my eyes, but he just gazed back from the passenger seat. His tongue lolled out of his mouth like he was mocking me.

Nell dragged me toward the entrance of the boutique. “The car’s locked and the windows are cracked. George’ll be fine.”

I cast one last longing glance at him. I swear the darn dog looked smug.

Chloe went up to the intercom and pressed a button. A cultured voice sounded seconds later. “Yes?”

“We have an appointment for Penelope Connors.”

The buzzer sounded. Chloe opened the door and Nell shoved me in. It closed with a loud snick that made it clear to me there was no way out.

Still poised to bolt, I looked around. White everywhere. Rows of dresses hung on each side of the room. Two pure white couches and a big, plush white rug faced a large three-way mirror. In front of the mirror was a high platform with a step leading up to it.

Colored dresses hung to another side. Fortunately, they all looked rather subdued. Not a Bo Peep dress in sight. I relaxed a little.

A woman came out of nowhere and greeted us. She was the cultured voice over the intercom. On the surface she looked tailored and expensive. Underneath, I could tell she was all leather, whips, and chains. “Welcome to Lang Taylor. I’m Devon. Can I get you anything to drink? A mimosa perhaps?”

Nell and Chloe eagerly said yes. What the heck—I asked for one too. It might relax me enough to get through the morning. Besides, I was afraid of what Devon might do to me if I turned her down.

Mistress Devon came back with a silver tray and three elegant crystal flutes of champagne and orange juice. I took one and sipped.

“Please sit down.” She waved us over to the couches before she perched regally on a chair.

I eyed the white rug and wondered what would happen if my glass toppled over. I glanced back at Devon and decided I didn’t want to know.

“When is your wedding?” she asked Nell.

“October.” Her eyes darted to me.

I could tell by the look she hadn’t talked to Riley yet, but I didn’t comment. Maybe if she kept putting it off the wedding wouldn’t happen.

I felt a pang of guilt for wishing that, but I still couldn’t reconcile Riley as the man Nell was going to spend eternity with.

“That barely gives us enough time to have a dress ordered, but I think we can manage.” Mistress Devon tapped a French manicured finger against a perfectly bowed lip as she eyed Nell’s body. “Do you have something in mind?”

“I think simple. Maybe a straight sheath.”

“Hmm.” She got up and went over to one of the racks lining the walls. She pulled out a few dresses. “Why don’t we start with these and see what you think?”

Nell followed her to a dressing room while Chloe and I lounged, drinking our beverages.

Chloe looked around, her lips puckered in that way that said she was impressed. “Posh.”

Translation: expensive. I tallied all the costs I knew of so far in my head. Maybe I needed to intercede with Nell? But I was so used to taking care of my sisters that sometimes I stepped in when I shouldn’t have. I forgot they were grown up and had to make their own decisions.

Pete would tell me to mind my own business. What did it matter to me if Nell spent a small fortune for a party that was going to last several hours when she could have put the money toward the down payment of a house?

I hadn’t really seen the dresses Devon picked out for Nell, but I’d expected Nell to come out of the dressing room looking like a princess.

That wasn’t the case. She shuffled out, a hand gripping the bodice to keep it from falling to her waist. She looked like a little girl playing dress up in grown-up’s clothing. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.

Chloe had no such compulsions. She guffawed loudly. “Nell, did you shrink?”

Devon turned a supercilious brow toward us. “The sample dresses come in one size. Once we find the right one, we take measurements and have one made.” She spoke to us like we were unruly children. I waited for her to get her ruler out and swat us.

Nell was so intent on keeping her top on that she wasn’t paying attention to the hem, which had to be at least a foot too long. As she neared the mirrors and platform, she tripped. We all gasped when we heard the sharp sound of fabric ripping.

Chloe looked like she was going to lose it any moment. I turned horrified eyes to the Mistress, wondering if we’d have to buy the dress now.

Devon walked to Nell. Her mouth looked pinched. I wondered if the whip was coming out.

She fluffed out the dress around Nell’s legs. “What do you think of this style?”

There was a collective sigh of relief. The Mistress wasn’t going to punish us after all.

Nell examined herself in the mirrors. “It’s nice but I don’t think it’s quite right. It’s too heavy.”

Not surprising. The dress looked like it was encrusted with beads. If it were my dress, I’d want it completely simple.

Devon nodded and suggested Nell try on the next one.

It was better. It still looked gigantic, but it had less ornamentation. I squinted, trying to imagine what it’d look like if it actually fit.

The Mistress began pinning it in the back. By the time she was done, even I had to admit Nell looked dynamite. It was a straight, fitted column that highlighted her curves while making her look taller. It had strategic insets of lace and a long slit up one side, baring her leg. It was less traditional, which suited Nell.

“I love that one.” Chloe pointed her now empty glass at Nell. “The peek-a-boo lace thing is sexy. One look and Riley won’t be able to help mauling you through the ceremony.”

I elbowed her.

She glared at me. “What the hell, Gracie?”

“I like it too, but I don’t know.” Nell twisted left and right, checking it out from all angles in the mirrors. “Do you guys really like it?”

Chloe nodded. “I do.”

I kept quiet because I wasn’t convinced.

Nell must have heard my doubts because she looked at me in the mirror. “Gracie?”

“Well… It’s not very matrimonial, is it?” At the Mistress’s frown, I hurriedly amended my statement. “Not that it doesn’t look great. If you want something nontraditional, I’d go with that one.”

Nell scrunched her face at her reflection. “You think I should try on a more traditional dress?”

I shrugged. “Then you’d know if this one is what you want, right? And didn’t you say you wanted a wedding like Mom and Dad’s?”

Devon went to a rack and pulled out another candidate. “Let’s see if this is more what you’re looking for.” She ushered Nell back to the fitting room.

Chloe got up and rifled through the bridesmaid dresses. “I always wanted to be a bridesmaid. They get all the action.” She pulled out a dress and held it in front of her. “What do you think? Does it say
do me
?”

“It says put me back before your grubby fingerprints rub off.”

“It’s too bad you’ll be paired up with Pete, but I’ll deal. You think Riley’s other groomsman will be as hot as Pete?”

“Chloe.”

She gave me a sly smile. “You know Pete’s hot.”

“Shut up, Chloe.”

“I’m not sure why Nell dumped him for Riley. I mean, Riley’s handsome and all, but Pete”—she rolled her eyes in ecstasy—“Pete’s got bad boy appeal.”

“He does not.” I didn’t know a nicer guy. He was sweet, caring, and considerate.

“Oh yeah, he does. He plays the good boy, but underneath he’s a seething mass of badness. It’s in his eyes.”

Pete does
not
have bad boy in his eyes. I would have noticed. “Put the dress back before you mess it up.”

“You know, Gracie, if you don’t be careful, you’re going to end up a shriveled old spinster living with your cats—”

“I don’t have cats.”

“—darning Daddy’s socks for entertainment.” She shoved the dress back on the rack before whirling around and pointing at me. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I rolled my eyes. Why was I the only sane one in this family?

Fortunately, Nell and the Mistress emerged right then. They walked slowly, as if in procession, Nell in front.

Nell looked like she was wrapped in whipped cream. It fit tightly in the bodice but the skirt floated in fluffy layers around her. She seemed to float as she walked toward the platform. They’d done something to her hair so it was all up with a veil trailing down her back.

“You look like a princess.” Chloe wiped her eyes.

“You look like Mom,” I corrected.

She did. The style of the dress was different, but Nell was the spitting image.

Tears started running unchecked down her cheeks. “Oh, Gracie. That’s the nicest thing you could have said.”

Devon magically produced a Kleenex and handed it to Nell. “This dress meets your approval.”

Nell nodded, blowing her nose. “I think this is it.”

Thank goodness. I wilted in relief. Usually Nell had to check out every store on her list before making a decision.

The Mistress turned toward me and Chloe and I had the insane urge to run for my life. “Now for the bridesmaid dresses. Did you have any particular style in mind?”

Nell was all business again. “I think something short would look good on both of them.”

Something short would look great on Chloe. Anything would look great on Clo. But on me? I wasn’t going to hold my breath.

The next thing I knew Nell was the one reclining on the couch with a mimosa and Chloe and I were being hustled to the fitting rooms with a rainbow of dresses to try on.

The first one was short, strapless, and shimmery gold. I didn’t think it was going to look good on me but was surprised when it turned out to be okay.

I studied myself from different angles in the mirror. Actually, it was better than okay, even if I did look like I had stilts for legs.

Chloe was already on the platform, preening like a peacock, as I walked out to show Nell and Devon. She had the same dress on and, of course, looked stunning. It accentuated all her curves. My baby sister looked lush.

I frowned at that thought. “I’m not sure about this dress.”

“I think it looks great on both of you,” Nell said.

I glanced at Chloe. Every plan to seduce the men at the wedding was evident in the mischievous glint of her eyes.

“No,” I said, shaking my head vehemently. “I think we need something with more coverage. Maybe something long, with a turtleneck.”

Mistress Devon gave me a queer look.

Nell didn’t bother to reply. “Go try on the next dress.”

Sighing, I trudged back to the fitting room.

An hour and a half later, we were no closer to deciding on the bridesmaid dresses.

I stood on the platform, watching everyone behind me bicker over the dress I had on. Nell and Chloe were beginning to lose it, arguing over the style. Even the Mistress, who’d been an impartial support through most of the ordeal, showed signs of wear.