To Have and to Hold (The Wedding Belles #1)(32)

“Hmm.” Maya furrowed her brow. “No, not quite.”

“Because we have access to all of them,” Stacy interrupted. She held up her hands to gesture around at the Spartan room. “Do you see any dresses here?”

“Well, no.”

“No, you do not,” Stacy said proudly. “Because we would never display anything off the rack. We offer only custom confections.”

Confections?

Brooke had seen her share of uppity dress shops, but this was a whole new level. Still, if there was ever a bride that was at the top layer of society, it was certainly Maya Tyler, so Brooke kept her smile firmly in place lest this be exactly the kind of ass-kissing Maya was accustomed to.

“At this point I’m not ready to commit to a dress shop, much less a designer,” Maya said sweetly.

Brooke felt a little stab of appreciation. Nicely done, letting Stacy Boulud know that she was a long way off from having secured their business.

The other woman gave a stiff smile. “Who else are you looking at? Because I can assure you we’re the best in the business.”

“Brooke is taking care of managing all my options,” Maya said smoothly. “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about your process?”

“Of course. Well, for starters, we have several brainstorming sessions on style and materials and vision before we even think about coming at you with a tape measure. We know that a wedding dress isn’t just a dress. It’s part of the decor.”

Oh dear Lord.

“Um. Wow,” Maya said. “That’s an interesting take on it.”

Stacy’s phone rang, and she winced as she glanced down. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Tyler. This number has been calling constantly, and I really need to address it promptly, if you don’t mind?”

“Sure, of course,” Maya said a little too readily.

The second Stacy stepped away, Maya turned toward Brooke and mouthed, Yikes.

Brooke bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and gestured with her chin toward the champagne chilling in the bucket in front of them. “More?”

“God, yes,” Maya muttered.

Brooke topped off both of their glasses, their gazes catching as snippets of Stacy’s conversation drifted toward them. The other woman was making no effort to keep her voice down, and she was clearly not pleased with whomever was on the other end of the call.

“I’m sorry, who referred you to us?” Stacy said in an impatient tone and then paused. “Mmm. I see. Well, we only accept appointments from people who’ve been personally referred by past clients.”

Stacy examined her manicure as she listened to the person on the other end. “Well, if you were able to give us a reference. Perhaps someone who could recommend your . . . connections?”

This time she barely gave the person on the other end a chance to respond before cutting them off once more. “I’m sorry, but it seems we’re all booked up for the next couple of years. Best of luck finding a shop that fits your needs.”

Brooke swallowed her anger. She’d seen this plenty of times—but while she was fine with vendors who were picky about finding the right clients, there was a cruelty to Stacy Boulud that was hard for her to stomach.

“Sorry about that,” Stacy said, returning to her seat across from them. “Sometimes desperate brides can be so persistent.”

“Mmm. Yes, shocking that they’d want access to the best dresses, just like the rest of us,” Maya said sarcastically.

Stacy gave a nervous laugh. “Yes, well . . . as I was saying, about our process—”

“Actually.” Maya sat forward and set her champagne flute on the coffee table. “I don’t think your process is going to work for me.”

“I’m sorry?”

Stacy looked so stunned, Brooke wished she had a camera.

“Well, it’s just that you said you’re booked up for the next couple of years. My wedding is in just a few months,” Maya said in a sweet, anxious voice.

Stacy’s made-up eyes widened as she realized she’d essentially just put her stiletto-clad foot in it. “No, I was just—”

“And, you said you only take clients with referrals, and I don’t have any referrals, do I, Brooke?” Maya asked, turning toward Brooke with comically wide, innocent eyes.

“No,” Brooke said, all too happy to play along. “I’m sorry, but I’m new in town. No referrals.”

“Shoot,” Maya said, slapping her palms gently against her thighs in dismay before popping up. “Well, looks like we’ll have to find a shop that fits our needs.”

Stacy shot upright. “Ms. Tyler, please, I’m sure that we can find you the perfect dress. Something beautiful and custom and befitting of your status.”

“The only status I care about right now is my status as a bride. And that makes me no different from that woman on the phone who deserves to have her dream dress every bit as much as I do.”

Maya had dropped the soft-and-sweet routine, looking outright fierce, and Stacy’s cheeks turned pink even beneath the orange of her fake tan. “But, Ms. Tyler—”

“I think we’re done here,” Maya said to Brooke, ignoring Stacy altogether.

Brooke had never really seen any similarities between Maya and her brother before, but she saw it now, as Maya’s straight spine and cool eyes mimicked her brother’s almost exactly. Brooke was positive this was what Seth Tyler must look like when doing business with someone who’d pissed him off.