Well Played (Well Met #2)(10)

“Nope.” I shook my head with no hesitation. “Think about it. You’re getting married outside, so you don’t want something that’s going to drag all over the ground. Not to mention, it’ll be what, July? August? The hottest time of the year. You don’t want all those layers of fabric.”

“I like the skirt.” April gestured in an up-and-down zigzag motion. “It calls attention to the lace better than that other dress.”

“I do like the lace.” Emily bit her lip. “And the skirt is really cute.”

“Exactly,” I said. “The handkerchief hem shows off the lace better, and when it’s in a couple layers like that it’ll give you a fair amount of swish.”

“Swish?” Em looked up at me now, her eyes twinkling. “Is that a technical term?”

“Sure is.” I grinned back at her over the rim of my mimosa flute.

“Yeah, I think Stacey’s right,” April said. “But maybe more of a halter style up top, and keep the silhouette close. It looks like something . . .” She shrugged. “I dunno, like in a fairy tale. If you’re getting married at the Ren Faire next summer, that’s not a bad look to emulate, right?”

“And you have to have flowers in your hair,” I said. “Like a flower crown. Or maybe a tiara would be better.”

A smile played around Emily’s mouth. “I like flowers. Good idea.” As our food arrived she looked down at the picture again. When she tapped on it to save it to her board, I felt a surge of triumph.

“You’re good at this,” April said. She watched me carefully while she took another sip of her mimosa. “You’re one of those people who’s been planning their wedding since they were four, aren’t you?”

I had to laugh at that. “Hardly.” Weddings weren’t my thing. But clothes were. And I knew what looked good on people. To me it was automatic. One look at someone and I knew whether they should be wearing a ballerina or sweetheart neckline, a tea-length or a maxi skirt. It came together as a picture in my head, complete and sudden, like a snapshot. It was a talent that I didn’t get to use a whole lot these days, so when I had the opportunity, I pounced on it.

“You are good at this, though,” Emily said. “I mean, you picked out my costume last summer when I did the Faire for the first time too. Maybe you should dress me all the time.”

I shrugged and tried to look casual, but that sense of triumph only increased, like victory trumpets sounding in my brain. “It’s what I do. Or used to.” Back in college. Back when I’d had a future. Bad memories surfaced, and that little surge of triumph fizzled and floated away.

“Well, I hope you still do,” Emily said. “We have to decide on bridesmaid dresses, and besides, we’re getting new outfits for next summer, remember? You know I’ll need your help for that. Without you I’ll keep calling a corset a bodice. Then I’ll pick out something that’s ten years out of date and Simon will probably call off the whole wedding in retaliation.”

I didn’t even try to suppress a giggle; Simon really was a perfectionist when it came to Faire. “Don’t worry,” I said as the food arrived. “I’ll have your back.”

“Thank God for that.” Emily took a bite of her omelet before spearing some potatoes with her fork. “Okay. Now, flowers. Stacey, did you have a chance to ask your mom . . . ?”

“I did, and she wrote down the names of the florists she likes for you.” I reached around for my little backpack, which was hanging on the back of my chair. I dug out a slip of paper and passed it across the table. “She also had thoughts on caterers. Of course, she has no idea what kind of food you want for the reception, so I think this is just a list of her favorite restaurants, but it’s a start.”

Emily nodded. “Great. I’ll start making some calls next week. I was thinking something like . . .”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” April put down her fork. “We don’t need to plan this entire wedding in one day, do we? This will probably be the thing we talk about the most for the next year or so, so can we just stick a sock in it for now and enjoy the morning?”

Emily blinked at her sister, a little startled, and I just smiled into my mimosa. April was definitely the more direct of the two sisters. I didn’t know her all that well, but I found her bluntness to be refreshing. Too many people danced around what they wanted to say, myself included.

To my surprise, Emily didn’t fight her. “Point taken. Sorry.” She raised her glass to the two of us. “I promise I will do my best to not turn into a Bridezilla.”

I toasted her back. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Me too.” April took a healthy sip of her own mimosa.

“Okay, then. New topic.” Emily took another bite and turned to me. “Stace, what’s new with you?”

“Nothing.” The word came out a little harsher than I’d intended, and I focused hard on cutting into my waffles. Nothing pretty much summed it all up, didn’t it? That unanswered Facebook message flashed through my mind, along with that fizzled-out reminder that I wasn’t doing anything exciting with my life.

“Nothing?” Emily echoed. Her smile was still in place, but her eyes looked quizzical. “That can’t be right. You’re always going out. You’ve always got stuff going on.”