surprise. Everything in here was a different shade of dark. Black. Deep purple. Burgundy. Bronze. There were hats and dresses and leather bustiers decked out with lace and satin and every single piece was...dark.
I stared down at the pristine white gown draped over my arm and swallowed back my defeat. Dylan had mentioned something about goth and vampires but I hadn't paid much attention. I should have listened closer. If I had, I wouldn't be standing here now, ready to make an ass of myself.
"Don't just stand there, cher. Let me have a look at it."
I took a backward step toward the door. "I don't think this really fits in with anything here."
"Nonsense. Nothing a few applications of dye can't fix if it's something I'm interested in. And if I'm not, I might know somebody who is." Jacqui stepped from behind the counter and I had to force myself not to gawk at the boots she wore. Like almost everything else around me, they were black. Shiny black, with dainty silver chains crisscrossing the entire front of each boot. The tops of the boots ended in a sharp point near the middle of her thigh. Like the shoes she had worn last night, the heels were sharp and pointy and at least five inches tall.
"How do you walk in those things?"
"Practice, cher. Lots of practice. Let's have a look." She eased the gown from my hold then held it out in front of her, her head tilting from side to side. "Addy, come out here. I need you."
"I'm coming." A curtain near the back of the small shop slid to the side and Addy stepped out. A smile curled her mouth when she spotted me. "Morgan! Good, you're here. I was starting to worry you wouldn't make it in time."
"In time for what?"
"Lunch before the game, of course."
"I'm not—"
"Of course, you are. I already told Nathan to tell Dylan we'd take care of you for the rest of the day."
"But—"
"There's this great little restaurant not far from here that has the absolute best étouffée you'll ever have."
"I don't—"
"And we'll have plenty of time to get to the game and get settled in. You can see everything from the owner's box. I'm still not talking to Daddy but being the owner's daughter has some advantages."
"Addy, enough. You're scaring the poor girl. And since when do you talk so much?"
"I'm not talking that much."
"Yes, cher, you are. Look at her." Jacqui pointed at me with a well-manicured finger. "She's ready to make a mad dash for freedom."
I offered both women a small smile and shook my head. "I'm fine. Really. No plans to make a mad dash anywhere." Not without money, which was something I was sorely lacking at the minute—and something I was hoping Jacqui could help me with.
She murmured something under her breath and bent closer to the dress. "Addy. Hold this up for me so I can get a better look. Yes, like that. And please don't go getting any ridiculous ideas in that head of yours."
"I won't. Not until I finish school." Addy offered me another smile. "I'm going back to design school. It's something I've always wanted to do and I'm finally just doing it. No weddings for me until I finish."
"And does hockey boy know that?"
"Of course. I mean, not that we've discussed marriage or anything, it's much too soon—"
"Mm-hmm." Jacqui ran her fingers over the satin and lace, studying the gown for a few more minutes before turning back to me. "It's a gorgeous dress. How much did you pay for it?"
"I don't know. Bran—I mean, the groom's mother paid for it." And picked it out but I wasn't about to tell them that. I figured that would only make me sound even more pathetic. I mean, what sane woman would let someone else pick out her wedding dress? Of course, I hadn't cared at the time, considering everything had been thrown together in less than a month. The fact that I knew the whole thing was a sham—on both our parts—was another check in the I-don't-really-care column.
A small frown creased Jacqui's face as she quietly studied me. I did my best not to squirm under all that intense scrutiny but finally gave in, making a pretense of looking around the place to hide my sudden discomfort. I don't think Jacqui bought it for a second.
"So no sentimental attachment to the gown?"
"None at all."
"That's probably a good thing, considering you left the groom at the