Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)(72)

Isabel pulled the white dress from what seemed like an impossibly small box. “It is. Four hours of ironing from now, it will be perfect.”

It was Wednesday morning and they’d just gotten in a big shipment of dresses. While it would be nice if they were sent in hanging boxes, stuffed with tissue and arrived in perfect condition, that wasn’t true. Most came folded, which meant wrinkles and creases and plenty of fluffing.

“I see I’m going to be busy for the next few days,” Madeline said with a grin. “That’s good. Shipping day secures my employment.”

Isabel laughed. “Absolutely.”

Later in the week they were due to get veils, silk wreaths and a few tiaras, but nothing compared to the work of getting a gown ready for her bride.

“The secret is never to let the client see her gown straight out of the box. She’ll never recover from the shock.” Isabel carefully unwrapped a beautiful silk gown with plenty of lace and layers. Yup, she and Madeline would be working late this week.

Thanks to her grandmother’s planning, the back room was big enough to hold a long garment rack. As each dress was unpacked, it was hung up. A few of the wrinkles would fall out on their own, but the rest required gentle ironing and steaming.

“It’s fun to see what’s new,” Madeline said, pulling out another dress. “The changes in the styles. Some are subtle, but there are still differences from year to year.”

“As long as we have variety,” Isabel murmured. “I hate it when stores focus on a single style, like strapless ball gowns. Even though I love them, they’re not going to look good on everyone. Every bride deserves to be beautiful.”

“You’re good at that,” Madeline told her. “Finding the right dress for the right client.”

“Years of watching my grandmother. She would take hours with a bride, talking to her about what she wanted, looking at pictures of different dresses, then having her try on dozens. It was an event.” She remembered being here then. “A bride would book the store for a whole morning or the entire afternoon. Sometimes they had food brought in.”

“You could still do that,” Madeline said. “A few clients would enjoy that.”

“It would be fun.” Isabel hung another dress on the rack. “There are a lot of changes I’d make here. Not that I’m staying.”

“Are you sure you can’t be tempted?”

“Yes. I’m still going back to New York.”

Isabel said the words with more firmness than she felt. In truth, she hadn’t thought about leaving in weeks. She still hadn’t connected with Sonia, but didn’t feel as frantic about that. She knew Ford was the reason and told herself to be careful. That he wasn’t the least bit interested in her staying. Still, it was appealing to think about.

The phone rang. Isabel carefully lowered the dress she was holding back into the box and reached for the receiver.

“Paper Moon,” she said. “This is Isabel.”

“You have to get over here right away.”

“Patience? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” her friend said. “But I’m serious. Shut the store and get here now! Bring Madeline.”

Patience hung up.

Isabel replaced the receiver. “That was strange,” she said. “Patience wants us to come over right away. It sounded urgent.”

Madeline rose. “Okay. I’ll put out the sign.”

Isabel checked the back door to make sure it was locked, then followed the other woman to the front of the store. After grabbing her purse and keys, she made sure the We’ll Be Back in Ten Minutes sign was up. After closing and locking the front door, they hurried toward Brew-haha.

Two short blocks later, Isabel raced into the store only to find several women, including Charlie, Dellina and Noelle, standing at the big window, looking out toward the park.

Patience practically danced over. “Look,” she said, pointing.

Isabel ignored the instruction. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She grabbed Isabel’s arm and dragged her to the window. “Look!”

Isabel turned her attention to the street with no cars currently in view. There were the usual pedestrians, a man on a bike and three men in the park.

“So?”

Charlie glared at her. “So? Seriously? Don’t you know who they are?”

Isabel looked again, then shook her head. “No. Should I?”

Charlie sighed. “Why do I even try?”

“I want the blond one,” Noelle said, pointing. “He’s dreamy.”

“Dreamy?” Charlie scoffed. “What is this? Nineteen fifty? Kenny Scott is known for his speed and catching ability. They say he has magic hands.”

Noelle leaned against the window frame. “I could use some magic hands in my life. I wonder if he rents out.”

Dellina pointed. “I like that one.” She turned to Charlie. “What’s his name?”

“Sam Ridge. Kicker. He’s scored more points than...” She shook her head. “You don’t care about his football career. Stop talking to me.”

Isabel turned back to Patience. “That’s it? You dragged me over here to look at football players?”

“Of course. They’re finally here.”