Daughters Of The Bride (8 page)

“I didn’t speak to her for a year. Or my sister Sienna.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not that Sienna and I have ever been close.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Have you met her? She’s so perfect. I mean physically beautiful. Which I guess I don’t technically care about, but things come easily to her. She was good in school without really trying, and the guys were all over her. She’s been engaged twice and broke it off both times. No one’s ever wanted to marry me.”

“Have you wanted to marry anyone?”

“No, but that’s not the point. I want to be asked. I never was. Not to a school dance or anything.”

“You’ve had boyfriends.”

Not a question, but close enough that she felt compelled to answer. “I’ve had guys in my life. When I turned eighteen, I didn’t just leave high school, I left home. I was on my own. I got involved with some real jerks. They were a little older and I thought they were so cool.” She picked up the last fry. “I was wrong.”

“You figured it out.”

“After a while, yes.”

“Some people never do.”

“That’s sad. Anyway, I didn’t speak to my mom or Sienna. I stayed in touch with Rachel. She and I are close. Eventually, she talked me into meeting with Mom and we reconnected.” Sort of. They were a family, but they weren’t all that involved in each other’s lives. Or to be completely honest, she didn’t let anyone know what was happening with hers.

“Oh,” she said brightly, “I got a tattoo. The day I turned eighteen. It was supposed to be a symbol of my freedom.”

“Is it?”

“No. It was silly. And because I was so young, it’s on the small of my back.” She held up a hand. “Don’t judge.”

“I would never.” He leaned back in his chair. “What is it? The tattoo?”

“I am so not going to tell you.” His steady gaze made her squirm. “Stop it.”

“What?”

“Trying to influence me.”

“I haven’t said a word.”

“You don’t have to. I’m susceptible.” Okay, that came out wrong. “I mean you’re so much older and...” She sighed. “You know what I’m trying to say.”

“I haven’t a clue. Although it’s clear you think I’m old. That’s very flattering.”

“Not old, old...just, you know, experienced.”

“Are you calling me a man whore?”

“Do you deserve the title?”

He laughed. “Some days.” He finished his beer. “Tell me about the other tattoo.”

She felt her mouth drop open. She consciously closed it. No way he’d guessed. “What are you talking about?”

“If you got one as a symbol of your freedom and realized it was more about being trapped by a bad choice, you probably got another one when you figured out what to do with your life.”

“You’re good.”

“Like I said. I work with a lot of artists. Some days it’s an entire ocean of deep emotion. Very little surprises me.”

Did that mean he knew she thought he was sexy? Probably, she decided. And if that was the case, his complete lack of response meant he wasn’t interested. No surprise, but still disappointing.

“Between the shoulders?” he asked.

She sighed. “I hate being a cliché.”

“Only if it’s wings.”

She glared at him. “That’s not fair.”

“Sorry,” he said, not looking the least bit contrite. “For what it’s worth, I’m sure they look good on you.”

“Now you’re just placating me.” She narrowed her gaze. “If you’re so smart, what’s the one on the small of my back?”

“A butterfly or dragonfly.”

“Not even close. So there!” She stood. “I win.”

He chuckled. “Yes, you do.” He rose and walked around the table until he was a few inches from her. He was only a couple of inches taller, so she barely had to raise her head to look into his eyes.

“You don’t want to get involved with me,” he told her quietly.

She told herself not to blush even though she was pretty sure it was too late.

“It’s not going to go the way you think,” he added.

“ED?” she asked, before she could stop herself.

Quinn stared at her for a second, then he started to laugh. The happy sound made her smile. Something warm and just a little smug filled her chest. She might be out of his league, but at least she’d survived the encounter. That had to count.

He touched her face. “There are flashes of power. The trick will be whether or not you can channel them into something that can be used. It’s all there, inside of you. Have a little faith.”

She wanted to tell him he didn’t know what he was talking about. She wanted to ask him to explain what he meant. She wanted him to shut up and kiss her. In the end, she chose escape.

“Are you sure you don’t need more towels?” she asked.

“Get out.”

“I was just going. Thanks for lunch.”

“Anytime.”

8

“THREE COATS,” RACHEL
said firmly as she handed over the volumizing mascara. “There are going to be pictures. You’ll want to look beautiful.”

“As long as it doesn’t look like spiders are resting on my eyelids.” Her mother took the offered tube. “No scary old lady pictures for me.”

“You’d have to be an old lady for that to happen.”

Maggie Watson smiled. “You’re very sweet, Rachel girl. I appreciate it.”

The familiar endearment, one she hadn’t heard in years, made Rachel smile.

She watched her mother lean toward the big mirror and begin to apply mascara. Maggie was in her midfifties. She worked out regularly, dressed well and looked at least ten years younger than she was. All of which made Rachel equally proud and depressed. The former because her mother was the poster woman for getting ahead on sheer determination. The latter because Maggie made it look easy and Rachel happened to know it wasn’t.

While her mother dressed in upscale suits and dresses, her own wardrobe consisted of black pants and black shirts, all in manmade fabrics that washed easily. There were days when she wished she wasn’t in the beauty industry, so she wouldn’t always be expected to have perfect hair and makeup herself. Both were time consuming. But no one wanted to go to a stylist who looked frumpy. She was battling an extra twenty pounds and the constant fear that she was the “before” picture, while everyone around her was an “after.”

Like now. Maggie looked amazing in a fitted sleeveless white shift dress with a pale pink lace overlay. Age appropriate, beautiful and sophisticated. Rachel had on black pants she used for work and a gauzy green shirt she’d owned, oh, six years.

Maggie straightened. “Enough?” she asked, waving the mascara.

Rachel studied her. “One more coat.”

“I knew you were going to say that.”

“Then you didn’t have to ask, did you?”

Maggie smiled, then returned to the task.

Rachel had already done her mother’s makeup. Now she would do her hair. Sienna and Courtney had gotten themselves ready earlier and were double-checking the party prep.

“We’re going to need a schedule for the wedding,” she said absently, thinking that one bride and two attendants was nothing. She’d done hair and makeup for much bigger wedding parties, sometimes starting at six in the morning for a midday wedding. “After we figure out how you want us made up and styled.”

Her mother smiled. “That will be fun. Maybe all three of you could have Princess Leia hair?”

“Sienna will need extensions. Or hair pieces, if you mean the little ear buns.”

“You’re not going to shriek that I’m crazy and you’re not wearing Princess Leia hair?”

“I know better than to argue with a bride.”

“That’s right. I’m going to be the bride and everyone has to do what I say. Enough?” She blinked dramatically.

Rachel looked at her. “You’re perfect. Now have a seat and I’ll do your hair.”

They were in the bride’s room on the ground floor of the Los Lobos Hotel. The space had once been a regular guest room, but years ago had been converted for the wedding business. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors covered an entire wall. Opposite was a ten-foot counter with plenty of electrical plugs and mirrors with good lighting. The closet had an extra high rail to keep long wedding gowns off the floor.

In the bathroom, the tub had been pulled out to make room for open shelves and a double sink along with a cabinet stocked with everything from bandages to hair spray to needles and thread. Spot-cleaning kits sat next to airplane-size bottles of vodka and bourbon. Joyce had thought of everything.

If you booked a wedding—or engagement party—at the hotel, access to the bride’s room came with it. The space was great for pre-wedding prep and post-wedding clothing changes. She’d heard rumors that more than one bride and groom had chosen not to wait to consummate their marriage and that the bride’s room had seen more than its share of action.

Rachel blew out her mother’s layered hair. She worked quickly and easily, familiar with what had to be done. An unfortunate state of affairs, because it gave her time to think. Mostly about Greg.

She hadn’t seen him since he’d attacked her on the baseball field. Well, not attacked, exactly. But he’d said some things and she still didn’t know what to think. She knew that Maggie had invited him to her engagement party, which meant she was going to have to figure out what she was going to say soon enough. Or maybe not. Maybe he would just ignore her.

She drew in a breath. No, that wouldn’t happen. Greg would be friendly. He always was. Even when they’d been getting a divorce, he hadn’t been a jerk.

She smoothed her mother’s bangs in place, then used a curling iron to fluff a few pieces. Then she got out her jumbo can of hair spray. When she finished, she put her hands on her mother’s shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful. Neil’s a lucky guy.”

Their eyes met in the mirror. Rachel could see the similarities. Hazel eyes. The same shaped mouth and chin. She would look more and more like her mother as she aged. Not a bad thing to have happen, she decided.

Their hair color was different. Rachel didn’t bother coloring hers, so it was a dark blond. Maggie used an all-over color to hide the gray, along with highlights. Sienna had chosen to go platinum, while Courtney was more like Rachel. No color for her honey-blond hair.

Variations on a theme, Rachel thought. Maggie with the green-hazel eyes, Rachel’s just plain hazel, while Sienna and Courtney had blue eyes. All blondes, all tall. They were the classic California family. Practically a cliché.

“Thank you,” her mother said. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“That I did such a good job with your hair?”

Maggie laughed. “That, of course.” She sniffed. “The engagement. He really is wonderful to me. I never thought I’d fall in love again.” She reached up and touched her daughter’s hand. “I wish you would...”

Rachel stepped back. “Thanks, Mom. I’m fine.”

“I want more for you than that. How are things with Greg?”

“You’re not very subtle, are you?”

“I’m your mother. I don’t have to be. I know he screwed up, but he was so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change what he did.”

Maggie pressed her lips together. Rachel knew what she was thinking. That Rachel should consider forgiving her husband. It had only been a one-night stand, so she should give him another chance. But what if she did? What if she believed in him again and he hurt her a second time? She would never survive.

“Ready for your party?” she asked. “I’m sure Neil is anxious to see you.”

Her mother rose and faced her. “At least tell me that you’re happy.”

“Of course I am. I have Josh and my family. And I’m about to get a stepfather.” She leaned close and hugged her mom. “You know I’m going to ask him for a pony.”

Maggie laughed. “I wouldn’t joke about that, if I were you. Neil’s a giver and he just might buy you one.”

They were still laughing when they walked out of the room and toward the lobby.

The late-May weather was perfect. Warm without being hot and plenty of sun. They were still about an hour from the party starting, and the west lawn was filled with activity. Large open tents had been installed. Servers were setting the tables where dinner would be served. The pre-and post-mingling area had two bars and a dance floor. Flowers sat on tables and by tent poles.

Rachel spotted Sienna and waved her over. Her sister walked toward them, all long and lean in a stunning ankle-length black dress made entirely of one-inch open-crocheted squares. The dress was lined from the bust to midthigh, but her skin peeked through the rest of it. Even knowing her sister had probably bought it at The Helping Store didn’t take away from the look.

She had accessorized it with classic hoops, strappy flats and simple makeup. Her short hair was spiky.

“Killer look,” Rachel said, knowing she couldn’t in a million years pull that off.

“Thanks.” Sienna smiled at them both. “Mom, you look great.”

“I’m so nervous,” Maggie admitted. “Have you seen Neil? He’s not going to stand me up, is he?”

“I don’t think you can be stood up at an engagement party,” Rachel said.

“She’s right.” Sienna pointed. “He’s over there, telling the staff how amazing you are.”

Maggie saw her fiancé and waved. “I’ll see you girls later.”

“Have fun,” Rachel told her, then looked at her sister. “Where’s David?”

“He’s meeting me here. I wanted to come early to see if anyone needed help. Oh, no.”

Rachel followed her sister’s gaze and saw Courtney carrying a large bowl filled with oranges, lemons and limes. As they watched, Courtney caught her foot on an extension cord, stumbled forward and dropped the bowl.

“It’s been five minutes and she’s already pulled a Courtney,” Sienna complained. “What is with her?”

“Just stop it,” Rachel said, starting forward to help her baby sister.

“What? Don’t snap at me. She’s a disaster. Admit it, Rachel. She never even graduated from high school. It’s been nearly ten years and she’s a maid here at the hotel.”

Rachel ignored Sienna and went to help Courtney with the fruit. Her baby sister smiled as she approached.

“I thought I’d get my awkward moment out of the way early. So I can enjoy the party.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. Nothing bad happened.”

“Oh, but the night is young.”

They collected all the fruit and then stood. As Courtney delivered the bowl to one of the bars, Rachel studied her sister.

The shapeless dress couldn’t have been less flattering on her. The navy-and-cream print was okay, but the length was an awkward two inches above the knee, which just looked bad on Courtney. The elbow-length sleeves were matronly, and the top kept slipping around on her shoulders. As always, her sister had pulled her hair back in a ponytail, which could have looked stylish, but didn’t.

“Come with me,” Rachel said, grabbing her hand. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

“What? No. I’m fine.”

“You’re a mess. Come on, Courtney. You could be gorgeous. Why do you always try to blend in with the drapes?”

“I’m not attractive. I’m tall and gawky.”

“Maybe at fourteen, but not anymore. Fifteen minutes,” she repeated. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Fine.”

Courtney clumped along behind her as they returned to the hotel. Rachel went directly to the bride’s room and started opening cupboards. She found straight pins and fabric tape. A lost-and-found bin yielded a hot-pink scarf that would have to do.

“Get out the ironing board and iron,” she instructed. “We want heat but no steam, so make sure it’s empty.”

She found navy thread and threaded a needle, then had Courtney stand in front of the wall-size mirror while she folded up both sleeves and pinned them in place. Now instead of a baggy elbow-length sleeve, the dress had little cap sleeves.

She walked around her sister and studied the dress. “You get this at the thrift store?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Rachel pinned both sides of it back, from mid–shoulder blade to the fullest part of Courtney’s butt. “Go put on a robe. I need the dress.”

Her sister pulled it off and handed it over. Rachel used the fabric tape to secure the sleeves, then the pleats she’d created on the back. Once the fabric cooled, she would tack the material down to make sure the tape stayed.

Courtney came out of the bathroom in a white terry-cloth robe.

“Sit,” Rachel said, pointing to the chair. “And take out your ponytail.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to. My baby sister is a stunner. It’s time the world knew.”

She combed out Courtney’s long, thick hair. Quickly, before her sister could protest, she combed the front part forward and grabbed her scissors.

“You are so not giving me... What did you do?” The second part of the sentence came out as a shriek. “I don’t want bangs.”

“I know and I don’t care. I’ve started now. There’s no putting them back.”

“I thought Sienna was the bitch in the family,” Courtney grumbled. “You tricked me.”

“Yes, I did. Now be still.”

Rachel combed more hair forward and began to cut across Courtney’s forehead. She moved carefully, keeping the line straight. She combed everything again and trimmed a few stray hairs, then pinned the hair back and went to work on her sister’s makeup.

Courtney’s clear skin and big blue eyes didn’t need much enhancement. Rachel brushed on shadow, then mascara, used a brow pencil, then added a light touch of blush. A pretty, dark pink lip stain finished the look.

She unclipped the bangs and moved behind her sister. After spraying her hair with a shine spray, she brushed the long strands into a ponytail before pulling out one piece to wrap around the band holding it in place. She secured it with a couple of pins and sprayed her hair again, then smoothed her bangs.

“That,” she said firmly, “is how you do a ponytail.”

“What if I don’t like it?”

“Suffer.”

Rachel went back to the dress. She used the needle and thread to secure a few key points, then had Courtney pull it on over her head. The once shapeless dress now followed the curves of Courtney’s body. Rachel twisted the hot-pink scarf into a long belt and tied it around her sister’s waist. She tucked in the ends.

The faux belt helped define Courtney’s figure even more and raised the hem a couple of inches. Just enough to go from awkward to sexy. Rachel turned her to face the mirror.

“See?”

Gone was the gawky, plain woman, and in her place was a stylish, well-groomed beauty. The bangs softened the strong lines of her face and made her eyes seem huge.

“All it took was fifteen minutes. You could do this if you tried. I’m happy to show you how.”

Courtney smoothed her dress, then touched the belt. “It was twenty-five minutes, but I get your point. I look nice.”

“Better than nice. You look stunning. I should hate you. The fact that I don’t is a testament to my excellent character.”

“I guess.” Courtney hugged her. “Thank you. This is really amazing.”

“I’m glad you think so. Now walk proud. You’ve earned it.”