Chapter 15
February
Two Months Until The Wedding
“Ow!” Sabrina sucks in a breath.
“Just sit still,” the bridal shop employee snaps.
I tap my fingers on the arm of the sofa, pretending there isn’t palpable tension on the other side of the dressing room curtain.
Instead, I take in the elegance of the bridal shop.
Rows upon rows of tulle, organza, lace, and satin, smooshed together on giant metal racks like layers of a parfait.
The sitting area is well furnished and cozy.
I sink into the soft pillows surrounding me and lift my champagne flute from the nearby table.
The only thing disturbing my comfort is the regular bickering coming from the dressing room.
“That’s it.” Sabrina pulls aside the curtain with a flourish and steps onto the platform in front of me, a three-sided mirror showing her from every angle.
I gasp. “Sabrina, you look beautiful.”
True, her hair is a bit disheveled, and her cheeks are flushed as though she were just wrestling a bear.
But the dress is a knockout. The lace bodice is intricate, with tiny floral detailing and sleeves that extend to her wrists.
A silk skirt flows like water from her waist to the floor.
The whole look is classic and breathtaking.
“You think?” She puts her hands on her hips and does a half spin.
The disgruntled bridal shop employee steps out from behind the curtain, a pincushion strapped to her wrist.
“Could you give us a minute?” Sabrina asks her.
The woman looks grateful to be excused from our presence.
Sabrina steps down from the platform and grabs her champagne. In one sip, she downs it.
“Libby Lakoski, don’t bullshit me.” She points her finger at me. “The train is a total disaster, you can’t deny it.” She turns her backside toward me.
I see what she means. While the skirt drapes effortlessly in the front, the back is a bunched, inelegant mess. From what I know about trains, they’re supposed to seem a natural part of the design, both when bustled and not. This definitely does not.
“The wedding’s in two months. And I cannot spend even another moment fighting with that woman.”
I clear my throat. “Well. Have you tried explaining to her what you want?” I’m particularly sensitive to customer complaints when it comes to fittings. Plenty an asshole has come nose-to-nose with my grandmother when unhappy with the results of a ridiculous request they made.
“I have. Many times. She isn’t seeing what I’m seeing.
I think she wants to be rid of me as quickly as possible.
” Sabrina sits down on the couch next to me and slouches.
The silk skirt pools at my side and beneath us on the floor.
“This dress belonged to my great-great-grandmother. The alterations need to be flawless.”
“You know…” I close my eyes and nearly bite my tongue. Screw it. “My grandmother is a seamstress. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help.”
Sabrina sits up with a start. “Really?”
The movement jostles me, and I lift my hand high above my head to avoid spilling my champagne.
This could either be a good idea or a terrible one.
On one hand, it will give me more time with Sabrina to solve the mystery of the missing diamond.
On the other, bringing Babcia into this whole side of my life feels… strange.
“Oh, please, Libby.” Sabrina clutches my hands in hers. “I will be eternally grateful.”
“Sure.” I force a smile. “Let me check with her and confirm.”
“And you think she’d be able to work quickly? In time for the wedding?”
“Oh, she definitely will.” Babcia has never missed a deadline for a client. I try to think of the sum Sabrina will likely pay her for this rush order and how much it will help Babcia with her business, her rent. The knot in my stomach loosens the slightest bit.
“You’re my hero!” Sabrina shrieks and wraps me in a hug. She might be the most emotive Brit I’ve ever met. Again, I finagle my champagne glass to avoid spilling and place it back on the table once she lets go of me.
“No problem. You’ll just have to let the saleswoman know we’ll be taking that with us.” I nod toward the gown.
“Great. I’m sure that will shove the stick up her arse even further.”
“Sabrina!”
“What? She’s a twit.”
I roll my eyes at her. She props her feet up on the table and grabs the bottle of champagne, taking a pull directly from it. A drop of liquid drips down her chin.
“Sabrina,” I warn.
“What?” She wipes the champagne from her mouth.
“Do you need me to take the dress home with me? For safekeeping? Before you, I don’t know—stain it, rip it, or otherwise tarnish it?”
I picture the dress filling the entire space of my apartment closet.
It might not be the best idea. Not to mention, it would give me full access to the dress she’ll be marrying Carter in.
What if I feel tempted to try it on after one too many glasses of wine and visualize myself as Carter’s bride, like a true lunatic?
And in a moment of self-sabotage, I dump said wine down the front?
“No. It’s fine. Don’t you know, dear?” She pats my thigh with her tiny hand. “I’m a Carmichael. We have all manner of security for these kinds of things. No one will touch this dress—including me—unless given explicit permission.”
Security. Right. I’m supposed to be asking her about the safe. My pulse quickens. Don’t act weird. Don’t act weird. “What about jewelry?” I fluff a piece of the skirt next to me. “Any special family heirlooms you’ll be wearing with the dress?”
Sabrina sighs. “The hope is to replicate my great-great-grand-mother’s look.
I’ll have to show you her wedding picture sometime.
Her hair was beautiful—simple, but elegant.
My grandfather is generously allowing me to wear her jewelry just for the evening.
I imagine it will be back under lock and key before I even make it to the honeymoon suite. ”
I swallow and the champagne bubbles stick in my throat. “Makes sense. They must guard family jewelry pretty closely.”
Sabrina takes a sip from her glass. “Well, like I said, we usually don’t place too much value on these kinds of things. But far from my decision what my grandfather keeps in his precious chest.”
“Chest? What chest?” I press my lips into a casual smile. Smooth, Libby.
“You don’t know about this? I thought Carter might’ve told you.
Just a wooden chest about the size of a bread box that’s been in my family for centuries.
No one knows its contents for certain except for my grandfather, but it must hold some kind of family valuables because everyone acts awfully dodgy about it. ”
Like a diamond, perhaps?
“I, for one, am uncertain there’s anything of real worth in there at all.
It’s more ceremony at this point that the family keep it close, take it with us on holiday and whatnot.
” She holds her champagne glass in the air as if making a toast. “If we and the Coldwells have one thing in common, it’s weird family traditions. ”
“Amen to that.” I play along, hoping she’ll reveal more if we stay on the topic. “The Coldwells are certainly a superstitious bunch.”
“Ugh, tell me about it. With their talismans and their charms.” And their curse.
“Their grandfather was the worst about it. You know, he wouldn’t even allow family members to have a twenty-sixth birthday party, because it’s a multiple of thirteen.
I thought it was ridiculous, but I kept my mouth shut. ”
Weird. Carter turned twenty-six before he met Sabrina.
She must be referring to someone else. My mind plays the words she said when I ran into her at the hospital.
Our families go back a ways. Centuries, practically.
She was visiting Trip. Is she talking about his birthday party?
Something stings in my chest, but there isn’t time to dwell on it right now.
I need to steer this conversation back to the chest.
“Your family seriously brings the chest on vacations with them? Isn’t it much less safe to travel with something than to simply leave it in one spot?”
“Like I said, my family makes very little sense.”
“So, what about the wedding planning? Does this count as a vacation?”
“Oh, no. It’s just me coming back and forth from New York, and I don’t think I’d ever be trusted with it.”
My heart sinks.
“But now that most of the family is starting to arrive for the wedding, my grandfather insisted he bring it.”
“Oh?”
“It’s never left his side for more than a week at a time. I love him dearly, but he’s a strange man.” She shakes her head and stares off into space. “Alright, then!” She snaps out of it and rises from the couch. “Let’s get this thing off.”
I’ve never met a bride so cavalier about her wedding gown, let alone one handed down through generations.
The saleswoman pokes her head around the corner. She opens her mouth, but Sabrina cuts in. “Oh, I’ll be taking the dress with me today, actually.”
“But Miss Carmichael, you have three more fittings scheduled.”
“I won’t be needing those, thank you.” Sabrina flashes a million-watt smile that is matched with a look of equal grumpiness from the saleslady.
“Fine. I’ll be by the front when you need me.”
“Not likely,” Sabrina mutters under her breath. She steps onto the platform in front of the three-sided mirror and does a little twirl while admiring her reflection. She pauses mid-spin and her smile drops just the slightest bit. “It’ll work, right?”
Does she mean the dress, or…? I’m not even sure the question is directed at me.
She looks at me over her shoulder. “Do you ever think about getting married?”
Yes. All the time, actually. To your fiancé.
“Eh, I don’t know.” Deflect. “Did you? I mean—before this, I guess?”
She looks in the mirror, tilting her head. “There was one person before. I thought he might be the one.”
Oh. I sit forward on the sofa, elbows on my thighs.
Sabrina turns to face me. She takes a deep breath and twists her hands together. “You mustn’t judge me. Please.”
I chuckle. “What would I have to judge you for, Sabrina? We all have a past. You love Carter now. I wouldn’t question that.” As much as it hurts me to say it.
She nods her head and looks down at the floor. “Well, this is where it gets a bit unconventional. The man—from before—was Carter’s cousin.”
My heart stops in my chest.
Breathe, Libby. It could be someone else. Carter has multiple cousins. But something tells me I’m terribly, terribly wrong.
I swallow. “His cousin? Which one?” Please don’t notice the crack in my voice.
She looks up from the floor and her eyes are misty. “I think you know him, actually. I ran into you that day at the hospital, remember? John.”
John. Trip.
The room spins and I grip the arm of the sofa to ground myself. I’m underwater, and only a handful of Sabrina’s words break through to me.
“It was years ago…. I held on to the hope I would find something that good again…” She glances at her shoes.
“And then the accident happened. So much time had passed, but it brought up unexpected emotions. Carter was such a support to me during that time and we developed a close friendship. Naturally, Carter and I both felt a bit strange about how our relationship played out. I know he kept things pretty private. Didn’t tell anyone for a while. ”
I run through my previous conversations with Trip as she speaks.
His grandfather had wanted him to marry Sabrina, but he refused.
He told me they weren’t together. Have I been completely obtuse?
Every time I mention Sabrina’s name, he immediately shuts down the conversation.
I thought it was because he doesn’t like her, but now I see it’s the exact opposite.
And then his words from that very first night in the library pop into my mind, uninvited.
You’re nothing like Sabrina Carmichael.
Nothing like the woman he loved. The woman he almost married.
I can’t breathe and at the same time, I want to smack myself for this reaction.
I barely felt this way when I found out Carter was engaged.
And for what? A man I’ve known for two seconds?
There isn’t even anything happening between us.
I tighten my fingers around the stem of the champagne glass, my knuckles whitening.
God, I am so stupid. I rest my forehead in one of my palms.
“Libby? Are you feeling alright? Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all of that on you. It kind of spilled out and, well, I realize now this might be uncomfortable given your relationship with Carter.”
I look toward the three-sided mirror. Past Sabrina’s reflection, my face is ashen. I do, in fact, look ill.
“Of course. Sorry—I have a headache all of a sudden. Too much champagne, probably.”
Sabrina looks at me, her eyes expectant. She wants me to react to what she just told me.
I close my eyes and swallow. “I’m so sorry, Sabrina. For what happened to Trip. But I would never judge you for what you’ve been through. I’m just happy you were able to find what you need in Carter.”
She smiles, but it’s the sad kind. “Thanks.” Her eyes begin to well, but her back is to me, and before the tears can fall, she disappears behind the dressing room curtain.