The Perfect Dress(91)

“Oh, my!” she gasped.

“I thought you deserved the penthouse,” he said.

She crossed the room and took in the panoramic view in front of her. He slipped his arms around her waist and softly kissed her on the neck. “Like it?”

“Love it.” She was suddenly nervous, unsure. “Graham, I’ve never undressed with the lights on.”

“Then we won’t turn them on, darlin’,” he said as he backed her toward the bedroom. “And if you’re uncomfortable undressing, then I’ll do it for you.” He tugged the shirt up over her head. “I’ve dreamed about this moment since I first walked into your shop.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah, and that, darlin’, is not a pick-up line.”

In the mirror above the desk, she could see a king-size bed. That’s when she kicked off a sandal and shoved the door shut with her foot.





Chapter Twenty-Four


Mitzi awoke on Sunday morning and, without opening her eyes, scooted over in the bed to snuggle up to Graham, but a pillow met her body. For a single second, she thought he’d left her without saying goodbye. Then she realized that she was in her own bedroom above the shop and not in that fancy hotel with him.

Both Paula and Jody had been asleep when she’d gotten home the night before, but now she could hear pots and pans rattling downstairs and the buzz of their conversation. They’d want details of her day and night, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to share them just yet, so she lay very still and tried to decide how much to tell and how much to selfishly keep to herself.

After a while, she slung her legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and padded downstairs in her bare feet. “Good mornin’. What’s for breakfast?”

“I’m just finishing up the eggs,” Jody answered. “Bacon is ready and biscuits came out of the oven a few minutes ago.”

“What? No hash browns?” Mitzi joked.

“In the cast-iron skillet already on the table.” Paula pointed. “You remember that sayin’ about the north and south fairy tales?”

Mitzi shook her head. “No, but it’s early. Maybe after a cup of coffee and a hot biscuit, I’ll remember.”

“Folks up north start off a fairy tale by sayin’, ‘Once upon a time’,” Jody said.

“And us southerners start one off by sayin’, ‘You ain’t goin’ to believe this shit’,” Paula said.

“So which fairy tale are y’all about to tell me?” Mitzi asked.

“I didn’t say anything until now because I wanted all of us to be together.” Jody flipped her long braids over her back. “I’m never cutting my hair because Hazel thinks my braids are like Rapunzel’s and she likes the color because it reminds her of Filly.”

Mitzi poured three cups of coffee and set them on the table. “Who is Hazel? And what filly?”

Paula helped carry the food to the table. “You’ve got my attention, too. Who are all these people?”

“Hazel is Quincy’s four-year-old daughter. Filly is a big old yellow cat whose real name is Ophelia, but Hazel calls her Filly.” Jody was the last one to sit down. “We should say grace. I’ll do it.” She bowed her head and said, “Thank you, Father, for this food, these good friends, and for knowing what’s best for us even though we fight You every step of the way. Amen.”

“Amen,” Mitzi said as she took a sip of the coffee.

“Amen,” Paula added. “Now go on.”

Jody split open a biscuit and went on to tell them a detailed account of what had happened the day before, ending with, “She cried when I left, so I promised her that I’d see her again today. We’re spending the day with her at the Dallas Zoo. I know we need to do some catch-up work with all the orders that the bridal fair brought in, but I promise to work until midnight all week to have this day off. Her mother picks her up at a McDonald’s PlayPlace at five, so we’ll have the whole day to play.”

“Well,” Paula said, her eyes twinkling. “You’ll have about six hours after that to spend with Quincy before your curfew.”

Jody held up both palms. “Okay, let me have it all right now, and get it over with. Pile on the jokes and the ‘I told you sos’ but there’s nothing between me and Quincy but that little girl. They’ll be here in an hour, and you’re going to fall in love with her just like I did.”

“And that’s why you’ve got on your best jeans and drug out your good cowboy boots?” Mitzi asked.

“I’m not wearing flip-flops to the zoo,” Jody said.

“I’m so excited for you that I’m not even going to tease you, but this brings me to my ‘you ain’t goin’ to believe this shit’ story,” Paula said between bites.

“Fairy tale, not story,” Mitzi reminded her.

Paula took a second helping of eggs. “I guess Madame Fate had something to do with my day, also. Who would you have thought I’d run into in a baby store?”

“Your sister?” Mitzi asked.

“Even worse. Clinton’s wife, Kayla,” Paula answered and then went on with her story. “I feel sorry for the woman, knowing what I do now, and he said that day he showed up here that he’d been faithful since our affair. It wasn’t nice—matter of fact, it was downright mean of me—but I hoped she’d catch him if he was having another affair. She deserves to know, but I don’t want to be in the middle of it. I never want him to know about the baby,” she said, and then continued her story.