Chapter 10
TEN
The interaction with Bella in the Salon had been strange, to say the least. Finding a mini weapons kit and discovering she’d slashed my best friend’s wedding dress had left me reeling— and I knew I needed to tell Lacy about the latter as soon as possible. The former could wait for now.
I met Lacy as she came around the corner of the darkened hallway toward the elevator. I reached out a hand to steady her so, as Momma used to say, I didn’t scare the living daylight out of her.
“It’s me, Lacy,” I told her, hoping she wouldn’t scream and bring all of the men running.
Despite my calm voice, Lacy jumped, hand over her heart. “Dakota Green, are you trying to frighten me to death?”
“That wouldn’t be a great way to kick off your wedding weekend,” I tried to tease. “I was coming to make sure you were okay. Did Anton head back to the bachelor party?”
Lacy nodded and took a deep breath before she looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You’re being my lookout, huh?”
“Lookout. Bodyguard. Whatever you want to call it, I’m here for you,” I said, putting on a smile that I hoped would temper what I had to tell her.
Lacy beat me to the punch, narrowing her gaze as she read my expression all too well. “What is it? What’s wrong now?”
I swallowed hard, not knowing how to inform her that her dress might be ruined—and that Bella Rivera was likely the person who’d cut it wide open.
“Tell me,” Lacy practically demanded, her hand reaching out to clench my arm.
“It’s your dress,” I said, biting my lip. “Some of the buttons are torn off and there’s a… gash.”
“A gash?” Lacy repeated, inhaling sharply. “I only just hung it up, this afternoon, when I got here. Who would’ve done…?” But her question was lost as she rushed toward the Salon.
I followed behind her as she crossed the threshold into the place that would be her bridal suite in a day and a half.
Lacy’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes filled.
She’d always been more of a crier than me, but this weekend had to be some kind of record with how many times I’d seen her tear up.
“I’m sure we can fix it,” I said, and then, in sudden inspiration, I took my phone from my pocket and called the only person I knew who might be able to do any kind of repair.
Since Aunt DeeDee was planning to see us later that evening at the store on Main Street that houses her designs, she answered with a festive hello.
I dampened her enthusiasm with my explanation of our situation before handing the phone to Lacy.
Though I could only hear one side of the conversation, I was certain that Aunt DeeDee’s soothing reassurances were the reason that Lacy wasn’t going into full-blown panic mode.
As Lacy spoke into the phone, she ran a hand over the dress she’d selected for her big day.
“It looks like six—no, seven—of the buttons are gone, but the bigger problem is the tear.” She paused, sniffling.
“Maybe a foot long? And not along a seam. It looks like someone just took a knife and cut at a diagonal.” The tears started again.
“You can? Are you sure?” A heavy sigh. “I can send you a picture… A sash might work, but it would have to be pretty big… Uh-huh, as long as it’s tasteful.
” Lacy let go of the dress and wiped an eye.
“Okay, thanks, DeeDee, I appreciate it.” She handed the phone back to me and her shoulders released.
On the other end of the line, Aunt DeeDee caught me up quickly.
She was going to stay at the shop for tonight—“Because you can’t let this ruin the whole weekend”—but she was going to make a call to a friend in Richmond who was an even better seamstress than her.
First thing tomorrow morning, they would meet at The Rose while we were still sleeping and fix the dress.
“You tell her not to worry about a thing,” Aunt DeeDee said right before we hung up. “And you keep an eye out for more trouble.”
“Hold that thought,” I said, before pressing the phone to my chest and turning to Lacy. “Give me one sec, okay?”
Lacy’s expression was confused but, too tired to argue, she agreed and sank into the couch that Bella had been hiding behind.
I made my way into the hall and checked around the corner to make sure no one else was around. When I was sure I was alone, I spoke again.
“I know who did this,” I whispered into the phone.
Aunt DeeDee inhaled sharply.
“I’m almost positive that it was Anton’s ex.
Her name is Bella, and she arrived uninvited.
” I stopped and reconsidered my phrasing.
“Actually, Anton’s mother invited her, but he and Lacy had no idea—and everyone showed up a day early.
And now two of Anton’s cousins and this Bella lady are part of the bachelorette party, and I’m supposed to entertain them and somehow hold this night together so Lacy doesn’t have to worry. This is such a mess.”
I could almost see my aunt’s mind quickly piecing together the information I’d just handed her.
“Okay, baby doll. Here’s what you do: you and Lacy head out to tonight’s planned festivities, and I’ll make sure that each of the places knows to expect three additions to the party.”
“But—” I started to protest, to say that I didn’t want these other women anywhere near Lacy, but Aunt DeeDee anticipated my concerns.
“You remember what your momma always said about enemies?”
The words came back to me in a flash, Momma standing in the doorway of my bedroom, leaning against the doorframe, a hand on her hip, as she gave me advice on how to handle the upcoming Future Farmers of America competition.
I was in tenth grade, and I’d been whining about how hard it was to work with some of the other girls on our biggest project of the year—hatching and raising chicks from egg to full-grown chicken.
The three other girls—who I suddenly recalled had included Will’s wife, Valerie—and I had been fighting from day one about everything, from the exact temperature for incubation to which seed to feed them.
“Those girls aren’t your enemy, Dakota,” Momma had said, her head tilted as she looked at me with a smile that said she wished I could see what she saw in me.
“Just pull them in a little tighter, and I bet you’ll see that they want the exact same things you do.
You’re just going about it different ways. ”
I’d considered her logic. I supposed that my group members did want to raise healthy chickens that we could present at the show. I supposed they didn’t want to fail. I supposed they did want to win first place.
“At the end of the day we have more in common with each other—even with people we think are our enemies—than we can imagine,” I mumbled into the phone now, remembering Momma’s words with the exact intonation she’d used.
She’d been right about the competition, too—though we’d taken second place, that was pretty good out of ten other competitors.
But I didn’t have the same faith in human nature this time around. Maybe I’d seen too much.
“That’s right,” Aunt DeeDee said.
“But this woman slashed my best friend’s dress. How in the world could she—or Anton’s mother—have the same goals as Lacy and me? I want Lacy to get married. They want to ruin the wedding.”
Aunt DeeDee was silent and all I heard across the line was the click of her tongue as she thought for a long moment before finally speaking. “But why would they want to ruin the wedding?”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to follow her line of thinking. “Because they hate Lacy,” I said, before remembering what Bella had said—something about not even knowing Lacy. In her mind, this wasn’t personal. I changed my answer. “Because they want to be happy.”
“Exactly,” Aunt DeeDee said. “You may just need to convince them that there’s a better way to find their own happiness—without involving Anton or Lacy.”
“That’s an impossible mission.”
“Your momma always did love the impossible.” Aunt DeeDee chuckled down the line. “She was a better person than me, even though I sit my booty in the church pew every week. So if all else fails, you can follow my advice: Love your enemies to death—even if it kills you.”