The Wedding War - Liz Talley Page 0,48

Brevard made a displeased face. “I don’t agree with Tennyson being the person to decide your dress.”

Emma laughed. “She’s not. But you have to agree that it’s beautiful. We have an appointment in four days. We’ll have to pay more for alterations because usually that takes three months, but they have my size, so hopefully there won’t be too much to do. Even Gee Ma has to admit that what we looked at today just wasn’t right for me. I mean, there were so many mermaid dresses and fluffy princess ones with tacky crystal belts. Even the lace looked cheap.”

Melanie leveled a knowing look at Kit, who had started to look pale.

Juan chose that moment to show up. “Hello, mis amigos. Can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll have the two-for-one margarita,” Melanie said, quick as spit.

Her mother looked disapproving as she lowered herself onto the chair opposite Melanie, but not before inspecting the cleanliness of the utensils. “I’ll see your wine list.”

Juan’s engaging grin didn’t disappear as he said, “All we have is red or white.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Juan grinned even bigger. “We don’t have a wine list. Just a house red and a house white. And tequila. We always have tequila, Grandmother.”

“Water with lemon, please,” Anne said, with a lift of her chin. Disapproval of Juan’s boldness glittered in her dark eyes. “Bottled water, please, as I do not care for tap.”

“Gotcha,” he said. “And you, sir?”

“I think I’m going to need the tequila flight,” Kit said, tapping the table.

Juan laughed. “You have your hands full with these beauties, yes?”

Emma ordered water and some tableside guacamole, Juan went off to gather the libations, and Melanie’s mother folded her hands on the Formica and looked at Emma. “You cannot deny your mother the privilege of helping you select your gown. That does not belong to Tennyson, no matter how helpful she intends to be.”

Emma made a face. “I’m not. Mom is totally included. And you, too, Gee Ma.”

“Well, thanks for that,” Melanie said, feeling a bit of relief. Her mother sticking up for her was always a small pleasure because it felt so rare.

Emma sighed. “All I’m saying is that this is an incredible opportunity. It’s an exclusive salon, and it’s hard to get an appointment. Tennyson knows the owners or something, and they’re doing her this favor. We got an appointment on Tuesday. Marc agreed to move the cake tasting to the day after in order to accommodate us.”

“I have to take Poppy to the vet on Tuesday, and your brother has his first summer league game,” Melanie said, withdrawing her phone and tapping on the calendar.

“The appointment is for one o’clock. You can move the vet appointment and probably still make it back in time for Noah’s game, not that he’s going to even play. Please, Mom. Stanley Korshak. You know we will find the perfect dress there.”

Melanie didn’t want to go to Dallas, but she did want to have that special experience with her daughter. Hey, she watched Say Yes to the Dress and knew how sweet that moment was when a mom saw her daughter in the perfect dress. She’d dreamed about seeing Emma in her bridal gown since she first changed the child’s diaper. Of course, it felt surreal that it was happening in four days. However, she wasn’t going to miss her daughter donning frothy white dresses, pirouetting and swishing in the lace, tulle, and seed pearls even if it felt too fast and was orchestrated by Tennyson. “Okay, I’ll move Poppy’s appointment.”

“Good. Tennyson said we can do brunch in Dallas and go to the salon from there. She hired a car to take us. This is going to be so fun. I mean, it’s silly, but I’m so excited. Do you want to go, Gee Ma?”

Melanie looked at her mother. She knew that Anne would rather be caught in her underwear at the outlet mall than go anywhere with Tennyson. Her mother gave a rare smile and reached over, patting Emma on the arm. “I will wait to see you in your gown. I will cherish the surprise of seeing you the same way your groom will.”

Her mother was brilliant at negotiating conflict . . . or rather avoiding it. Anne’s refusal to go anywhere with Tennyson required a good reason, otherwise she’d have to explain why she disliked Tennyson, and that meant rattling the skeletons in the closet. This was what had made Anne such a good attorney. She was the ultimate

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