Charming You (Thirsty Hearts Book 1) (20 page)

"Enjoy it, honey, while you've still got it," he said, still shaking his finger at her.

Moments later, Micky heard a squeal from the dressing room. Taryn emerged in the gown they all knew she would call hers. Micky could tell how excited Taryn was, but her friend was trying not to control her excitement. The even-keeled Ronaldo gasped.

"What about this one? Your honest opinion," the bride-to-be said. Her eyes lit up.

Micky was blown away by how her best friend looked in the dress. "Oh, my God, Taryn. It's stunning. You are really stunning."

"I know. If don't say so myself." Taryn laughed and spun around.

"When you know it, you know it," Ronaldo said before standing behind her to pull in the waist a bit more and adjust the straps.

The sleeveless gown had narrow strips of fabric on the shoulders that gradually widened into satin triangles on the bodice. The neckline swept down into a deep, plunging V-neck, but remained decent because of a jeweled peekaboo detail in the center. Thin pleats defined the empire waist as well as delicate floral embroidery sparkling with beads and stones.

The A-line skirt was just as Taryn had wanted, a beautifully cut ripple of creamy satin down to the floor with chapel-length train. The dress had just enough sparkle to match Taryn's personality, but not so much that it was gaudy or overdone.

"Stay here and keep admiring your gorgeous gowns. I have the most spectacular fingertip-length veil for this dress. It will go wonderfully with your heart-shaped face." Ronaldo went off in search of the perfect veil for Taryn's perfect dress.

While Micky and Taryn cooed over the gown and discussed how she should wear her hair, another pair of women entered the dressing suite with glasses of champagne. All of them cast an eye toward the hallway when they heard a slightly-raised, but controlled voice. Whomever it was popped in the dressing suite for a split second before accosting Dahlia and inquiring about whether Danya would be sitting in while she and her daughter looked at each dress. The older woman didn't appear to like the answer, and Dahlia guided the woman into the hall to continue the conversation.

One of the younger women pulled on her ponytail with an air of exasperation. She was tall, thin, and platinum blonde. The other—an auburn-haired woman—walked out to calm the situation in the hallway, her sharp, chin-length bob swinging with each step. The blonde settled into one of the couches with her champagne as the attendant rolled in a new cart of gowns. Micky recognized the gemmed bodice of the dress Taryn had originally liked. Whichever woman was the bride, they both bore the stature to carry it off.

"That dress is really lovely on you. Classic, but unique at the same time," the tall blonde told Taryn. "Well done."

"Thank you. You have one of the dresses I liked, but it was a bit much for me. You have the height to do it justice," she replied.

The frost-haired woman barely turned to glance at the gowns. "Thank you," she said, but didn't elaborate.

"The one you've found is perfect, though, Taryn. I'm so thrilled for you," Micky said. The blonde twirled her glass in her fingers, noticing Micky off on the side, also in a gown.

"Are you getting married too, or just along for the ride?"

"Along for the ride. My friend is on a mission to materialize her wedding gown vision, and she swept me up in her madness. You?"

The crisply dressed blonde sighed. "Both, sadly."

Micky looked at the woman. Taryn was bubbling over with excitement about getting married. This woman looked like she was being dragged down the aisle by her frosted tips.

"I'm sure you'll be fine. I bet if you focus on your fiancé, and what's real between the two of you all the other stuff will fade into the background," Taryn suggested.

"He's a great guy. Really great." The blonde didn't exactly sound convinced. "Things have gotten a little complicated. We broke up. I told my mother, but she's not taking it well. She keeps telling me that men don't always know what they want. We have to show them. I didn't even talk about this with my father yet. My mother said she's 'handling it,'" the woman said, using the obligatory air quotation marks.

Micky couldn't imagine how you handle a groom that doesn't want to get married, especially when the bride didn't appear too keen either.

"Do you want to get married?" Micky asked. The blonde darted her eyes toward the door.

"I do. That's why I'm telling myself this isn't a wasted trip. One can always hang on to a wedding dress. I can deal with my mother. I'm indulging her. She's getting intense, but weddings are stressful under any circumstances. I'm just glad I have the wedding coordinator to keep it to a dull roar."

Was it a thing now to plan in advance and stockpile wedding garments? And paying a wedding coordinator on a whim? They must have money to burn. Micky heard footsteps streaking down the hallway, coming to a halt.

"Weddings are stressful—yes—but in the end, worth it. You and he are just perfect. You'll see," the older woman said as she stuck her head in. "Dahlia has arranged our own suite so we can have more privacy." The woman barely looked at Micky and Taryn, but motioned for her daughter. The blonde drained her champagne and stood up.

"Of course, mother." Then, she was gone.

"That was just weird," Taryn said. "How do you let yourself get dragged into wedding planning when you have no intention of having a wedding?"

"You know how it is with some people. They get caught in a trap of pleasing people—especially parents. She definitely looked the type, and with that mother going a thousand miles an hour…That whirlwind makes Lila look like she's on Xanax."

Ronaldo returned, as did the cart attendant. They chatted in a whisper as they turned the corner, but Micky and Taryn heard bits and pieces.

"Private room," Ronaldo chuckled. "That's just to keep the crazy contained."

"Well, this is their third appointment in four months. Both of the others got canceled at the last minute. How was Danya supposed to know they'd really show this time?"

"Those appointments weren't the only thing I heard was canceled," Ronaldo mumbled.

"Who knows? Women like her always bounce back, and with a new man more fabulous than the last," the attendant said.

She grabbed the stranded cart and pulled it to the hallway toward wherever Danya had the "private" rooms. Micky wondered if they were meant to be exclusive or Danya really did use them to "contain the crazy." Either way, Micky was glad to have the larger room mostly to themselves again. Looking for a wedding dress was supposed to be fun, and that crew drained the joy out of the room.

Micky chewed her bottom lip as she and Taryn examined veil options. Lace. Tulle. Rhinestones. Blusher. Fingertip. Chapel—that one they knew wouldn't work. Finally, Taryn put on a delicate, elbow-length veil trimmed with stone-studded lace. The combination of lady gasps and gay gasps let everyone know it was the perfect addition to the perfect dress.

Later, sitting in Danya's office in the waning evening, Taryn was ready to go all in, but stopped herself. "Before I do this, I really do want my mom to see it. You know? I mean, I'm not going to change my mind, but I want her to see it. Put her stamp of approval on it."

"Sweetie, we actually have the dress in your size at our boutique in Houston. I can have it transferred up here in our next delivery if you want to try it on and bring your mother in from Oklahoma and your bridesmaid from Austin. That's no problem at all." Taryn's eyes lit up.

"Perfect. Yes! Alexa can come up from Austin in a couple of weeks, and we'll look at bridesmaids dresses." Taryn turned to Micky. "I'm freaking starving. Let's go grab dinner."

"As you wish, princess bride."

N
ick found
himself on the brink of sanity. He spent Thursday morning in meetings with the partners, Tom Moran, and his staff. Nick had tried in the last meeting to explain that if Tom was interested in Azur, he needed to move quickly, or move on. Tom was doing neither.

He wanted another work-up on the company value, but still wasn't happy. He thought he could get the asset for cheaper. Nick couldn't tell the man how to run his business, but he also couldn't give him the one piece of information to light a fire under him.

Mercifully, the deal was starting to crumble. Nick gave a mental shrug. Tom would find some other company to stalk. Now, Nick had to figure out how to move the disintegration along. He swiped his forehead with the back of his monogrammed sleeve. It was nearly seven thirty, and so he'd have to try to save his persuasion for another day.

As Nick headed down the elevator and to his car, he thought about a wavy-haired brunette and the incredible weekend they'd shared. Work took her away from him for a few days, and he was feeling bored and more than a little lonely in the evenings. Rather than go home to his empty condo, he decided to call his sister.

Nick reached his brother-in-law who told him that she was at a mom's and daughter's night out party with his nieces, leaving James at home alone. By eight, the two men were out at James' favorite dive bar with James pressing Nick for more details on his new lady friend.

"I like her," James said.

"Me too." Nick thought of Micky and smiled, missing her. They had talked every day since the last weekend and had lunch once, but he wouldn't get to spend real time with her until tomorrow night.

"She's much more easy going than Vivienne. That woman was always," James paused, unable to find quite the right way of describing Nick's ex. "She was always on guard. Like she was in witness protection and didn't want anyone to find out her true identity and get her whacked."

Nick took a hefty swig of his beer. James was right on target. Nick had never thought of Vivienne's demeanor with other people. She had sought to make him happy and had supported his efforts to become a partner at his law firm. She threw parties and invited the right people, introducing him to potential new clients. In her domain—the role of connected socialite—Vivienne charmed, laughed, and controlled every room she entered. The charm and smiles had seemed genuine, and maybe they were.

She
had
wanted Nick to be successful. She
had
wanted them to be the perfect couple. She just had the wrong reasons. James must have sensed it. Perhaps benefiting so richly from the mask Vivienne wore kept Nick from looking past it.

"I feel guilty," Nick admitted.

"What? Why?"

"I used her. I didn't care about anything except my job. Everything was about making partner. I keep wondering who I've become. I've been so selfish."

"Is that why she left?"

"Pretty much."

Nick didn't want to lie, and he didn't think he was. He hadn't cared about her happiness—only what she could do for him. Now, of course, he realized he didn't need a woman to do anything for him except be herself. He'd had his fill of pretense. Being with Micky was a relief from the pressures of a relationship being about anything other than whether they could make each other happy. No social expectation or having to be on display.

"I wouldn't feel too bad about it. I think Vivienne is the sort of person who takes care of herself. She knows what she wants, and she'll get it. Maybe she didn't want you, brother, but I'd count my lucky stars for that. She was cold that one."

"Yes. Amy mentioned that you thought she was a bit chilly," Nick told him.

"She did?" James looked at his brother-in-law and laughed. "So, she told you, huh? Well, I take it I was wrong, and there's no frost bite or freezer burn from the coldest chick in Dallas? I'm sorry. I shouldn't say that."

Nick shook his head. "Vivienne is complicated. I wouldn't judge her. We just weren't going to work out."

"You're right, man. I'm sorry. Really. Glad you're moving on though. That's my point. Micky is good people."

"She is."

"The girls keep asking when they get to see her again."

"Soon, but maybe not until she gets back from France. She's busy with work right now."

James rolled his eyes. "Man, ever since Micky brought up Paris, Amy's been hounding me. You want to be uncle of the year and help out with a couple of little divas next summer? I better take her on a vacation or she'll divorce me. I'm no good on my own. Your sister keeps me in order."

"You had better keep her happy, then. I can help out. I know how Amy feels. I haven't had a vacation in a long time, and Paris is one of my favorite cities in the world."

"You should take off and go see Micky while she's there."

"So, I'm going to fly to Paris for the weekend? That's a long way to go for a couple of days."

"Take some extra time. You can't take two or three days and a weekend? All Micky could talk about was how romantic Paris would be. You'd be the slickest cat in the world to surprise her."

"I don't know with this deal I'm working on. Things are getting sticky. If I can wrap it up in the next few days, I may have some time."

Nick stopped himself before he said anything else. Explaining his absence would be tough, but no one at work would have to know where he was going, and with whom. He'd let his job throw enough monkey wrenches into his life. It would only be a few days.

"I don't know how I'd make that happen, but I guess I could at least look into it, right? Maybe I can take some extra days around the weekend. Leave in the evening after work and land in Paris the next morning."

"Do it. You like her? Trust me, that's major brownie points. You've got to store that shit up in the early going for when you inevitably do something bone-headed."

"I'm going to try not to be bone-headed this time around." James shook his head. "You don't have to do something stupid. You just have to do something your woman
thinks
is stupid. That's easier than it seems, man."

"You're insane."

"I'm right."

"You
are
right." Nick laughed.

"How are things at work? You still basically working for Vivienne's dad?"

"Not exactly. We have other clients, but yes, his account is the biggest one I've got going." He had a meeting with Taryn's fiancé and earned another big slap on the back from his bosses for bringing in more business. More business through a girlfriend. Was that what Micky was? He never thought he'd sleep his way to the top.

"It's good your breaking things off with Vivienne didn't ruin your business relationship,"

"Wouldn't know," Nick said. "Vivienne still hasn't told her dad."

James swore. "Are you kidding?"

"It's kind of complicated. We've been separated for months, but Vivienne isn't ready to tell him yet."

"What happens if Tom sees you out with Micky?"

Nick shrugged. "Then I'll have to tell him the truth. It's not me who doesn't want to say anything. Besides, I doubt we'll see each other. Since I'm not with Vivienne anymore, the only time I ever see him is at work. We don't travel in the same circles."

"Bone-headed."

"Vivienne has a strange relationship with her dad. It's tough for her. She'll do it."

"She's stalling."

"Maybe. If she doesn't say something soon, I'll just tell him myself, but I want to give her a little time on this," Nick explained.

"I don't get it."

Nick tapped his fingers against his pint glass. "There's some other stuff going on with her. I don't want to make this any harder for her than it already is."

"It's just a broken engagement. I don't see how that's some big secret. It's not like she's coming out of the closet or something," James said and smirked.

Nick choked and started coughing. When he regained his composure, he said nothing. He looked at James, whose sardonic smile faded.

"Of course," he said.

"Of course, what?" Nick asked.

"Lesbian. Makes perfect sense."

"I don't know what you're talking about, but that's not something that we want spreading around. I made an agreement."

"I won't say anything. I mean, I'll probably tell Amy."

"Don't. Just don't say anything at all. You'll tell Amy and then she'll tell Mom, and then it's like putting an ad in the paper."

"Amy will smell the lie on me, man."

A feeling of resignation sank in Nick's chest. "You two can't say anything. I'm not joking."

"I'll just tell Amy, and we'll keep our mouths shut," James swore. "Jesus. And I thought lesbians were hot."

"She's hot."

"She's not bad looking, but hot?"

"We weren't hot together obviously, but you know, with the right person, who knows," Nick posited.

"Does she have a girlfriend? Or has she ever?"

Nick paused for a second. "I have no idea. I haven't asked her about that. I would assume so. At some point, before we were together."

"Huh. Still can't picture the ice queen getting steamy with another chick."

"Good. You're married to my sister."

"That I am." James looked at his watch. "Speaking of which, I better head home. One beer is my limit. As is one basket of onion rings. Your sister is trying to get me to lose weight."

"You keep my secret, and I'll keep yours."

"Doesn't matter, man. Onion rings, lies, whatever," James declared, waving his hand. "A good woman can sniff it all out. Better to be honest."

Nick finished off the last onion ring, thinking about his brother-in-law's inadvertent advice.