have a tub, and the closet was a postage stamp. The yard seemed to yield only colorful wildflowers that burst from every corner and were technically called weeds. But the cottage vibrated with a goodness and joyous vitality that had obsessed her from the age of ten. When she was young, she’d sworn to her mother one day she’d live in the purple fairy-tale cottage with her prince.
A few years ago, she’d finally bought it. Alone. And it was the proudest damn moment of her life.
“It was a perfect choice. Do your sisters still live close?”
“Yes. Bella and Taylor actually rent a two-family a few blocks down.”
“That’s so great. Okay, let me know what we do next. I was never one of those girls to fuss about a future wedding day, but now I’m nervous. One of my colleagues brought in a stack of magazines, and I had to breathe into a paper bag afterward.”
Avery laughed. “My job is to keep you sane and breakdown-free. Even relaxed and happy, by my standards. But let’s not talk shop today. We’ll have our first official meeting tomorrow at my office at one p.m. for that. Right now, I just want you to relax, eat cheese, and give me all of the good gossip. I heard Texans were good at that.”
Ally sighed with relief. “Sounds awesome. But we’re going to need more wine.”
Avery laughed, refilled their glasses, and settled into the cushy pillows. The next few hours flew by, and she felt as if a piece of her had snapped back into place being with her best friend again.
Ally stood up. “Now that I’ve eaten all your cheese and drunk all the wine, I better get going. I know you have appointments.”
“I wish we could hang out all afternoon, but at least I know we’ll be able to see each other regularly. We’re going to have the best summer!”
They hugged and Avery escorted her to the door. It had been a long time since she’d planned a wedding for someone she loved. Sure, they had the occasional local who booked her, but the majority of her clientele was unknown, with dreams of a destination beach wedding planned to perfection being the true goal. She was close to her brides when they worked together, and was proud of her Love Wall, where she posted all her cards, notes, and pictures from grateful brides. But with Ally, she had a personal desire to make it beautiful, even though she had a squeezed schedule and little free time to savor.
Seeing Ally again reminded her it’d be worth it.
With a deep breath, Avery cleaned up and headed to the office.
The next day, she was running late. She’d crammed in back-to-back appointments, and all her weddings were beginning to blur together. The cake tasting ran into the invitation consultation, and after dealing with a bride who hated making decisions without texting every single one of her bridesmaids for their input, Avery’s vision couldn’t handle another calligraphy option. God, she’d give anything for a pastry right now.
Even though the wedding craze of May had passed, June was almost as bad. Casting a longing glance at the café, she hurried past, skipping a coffee refill in exchange for precious minutes. Her red silk blouse and cream skirt stuck to her damp skin, and her hair rebelled in the humidity. She could practically feel strands poking out of the dozen hair clips she’d tried to use to tame it. Sometimes she hated Bella for inheriting her smooth golden locks. Maybe she should cut it short like Taylor. Except she’d probably look like a demonic Orphan Annie.
Glancing at her watch, she quickened her pace. Ally wouldn’t mind if she was a bit late, but she hated beginning a new partnership on weak ground. Respecting a client’s time was essential in running a successful business, even if this client was her best friend on a summer beach vacation.
Her heel caught in one of the deadly uneven pavements that defined Cape May sidewalks, and she did a two-step shuffle, averting disaster. She finally reached the bright yellow-and-pink scrolled sign that announced SUNSHINE BRIDAL and headed toward the door.
“There she is!”
The shout took her off guard, and she teetered again on her shoes. Damn pumps. She preferred flats or sandals, but these red-soled designers went perfectly with her outfit. With four-inch heels, they put her at a respectable height, but her clumsiness threatened to ruin her fashion statement.
Two women faced her—one on the verge of