The Fairy Tale Bride(7)

Life was good in Marietta. Life was simple. A woman would only complicate things. And complications were things he didn't need.

He thudded the tray down on the table. "Naw. No pretty women. Just a big queue at the bar. Now, whose hand is it?"

*

Lisa watched Adam's retreating back through the crowd. He was wearing a  simple polo shirt. It was the first time she'd noticed the defined  muscles in his upper arms, or just how broad his shoulders were. As she  turned back to her cocktail Mags met her with a hard stare. She shook  her head, blonde hair everywhere. "Oh no you don't, girl. Spill. Now."

Lisa shifted uncomfortably on her stool. She'd been friends with Mags  forever. Mags knew things about her that the rest of the world didn't.  And vice versa.

Even though they'd been young, Mags had been the friend to hold her hand  when her sister had died. She'd been the person that Mags had shown her  positive pregnancy test when she'd been seventeen. It didn't even  matter that Mags had moved away. It just meant lots of long late-night  phone and video calls  –  the distance hadn't mattered at all. Watching  Mags's bouncing baby girl grow into a beautiful teenager had been one of  her great pleasures. She'd been her shoulder to cry on when she'd  caught Melody in bed with her fiancé.

She was just so glad that Mags had moved back home. Not only did she  have a knockout face and figure  –  she also had a knockout voice.

But a knockout voice didn't pay the bills when you had a baby. Mags was  now an experienced web designer and had been bending her ear for months  to help her develop the website for Married in Marietta.

Tonight, was supposed to be a business meeting. But no one had told the cocktails.

Lisa took a sip of the strawberry daiquiri. "What?" she tried to say innocently. "There's nothing to tell."

Mags narrowed her gaze. "This is me you're talking to. Did you see the way the hottie doc looked at you?"

Lisa felt her cheeks flush. "No. What do you mean?" Her stomach gave a  little flip flop. She hadn't imagined it. She hadn't imagined that tiny  second where all she could focus on was those brown eyes.

"I thought you called him Dr. Grumpy? He didn't seem all that grumpy to  me." She gave a wicked little smile. "He mightta looked like a whole lot  of other things though."

"Mags! Stop it!"

Mags waved her hand. "Fine. If you want to pretend he doesn't exist and  his eyes weren't permanently fixed on your cleavage then that's fine."  She pushed some papers over towards Lisa.

Lisa was glad of the distraction. Mags had a tendency to not let her  away with anything. A change of subject was just what she needed. After a  strawberry daiquiri she'd cave easily. "What are these?"

"These are what one friend does for another. I've registered your domain  name. Married in Marietta is now officially a website. Once news gets  out about the celebrity wedding everyone will want to know about the  stock in your store. Get your digital camera out girl. You're going to  need it."

Lisa shook her head, then rested it on the bar. "After today? You have  no idea. There's every chance they won't choose anything from my store.  This whole idea could be a bust."

"Oh ye of little faith."

Mags was good at this. For other people she had all the confidence in the world. For herself? Not so much.

She leaned forward. "Just think, if we make you a killer website, and we  photograph all the dresses you have available, as soon as news hits  that the Wedding of the Year is going to be in Marietta, people will be  all over your site." She lifted her eyes up as if she were dreaming what  it would look like. "This could be the break you've always needed. Your  dresses are exquisite. It's about time the whole world knows it." She  shrugged. "Anyway. How bad can Nancylynn Pruitt be? She might be a few  years younger than us but wasn't she okay in high school?"                       
       
           



       

"It's not Nancylynn that's the problem. It's her bridesmaids. The two  pneumatic blondes. Apparently Married in Marietta is the eighteenth  store they've visited to try and find bridesmaid dresses. I feel as if I  should rename it Last Chance Saloon."

Mags laughed and shook her head. "Oh no you don't. That domain name is probably long gone. Married in Marietta it is."

Lisa was still stirring her daiquiri with a straw. She was trying to  concentrate on what Mags was saying  –  honestly, she was  –  but a set of  deep brown eyes kept invading her consciousness.

"Lisa?"

"Oh, what? Sorry." Lisa straightened in her seat. "You're right. You  know you're right. I'll take my camera tomorrow and start photographing  the dresses. And thanks for registering the domain address. How much do I  owe you?"

Mags was grinning at her. Her smile reached from ear to ear and her head was shaking, ever so slightly.

She sagged back in the stool. "Wow. It's a long time since I've seen that face."

Lisa wrinkled her brow. "What face?"

Mags pointed her finger. "That face."

How many daiquiri's had she drunk? "What on earth are you talking about?"

This was the trouble with having a lifelong friend. Nothing could be  hidden. And sometimes Mags could read her better than she could herself.

Mags started to laugh. "This was the look on your face the first time  you saw Jimmy Belmont in grade school. This was the look on your face in  high school when you had the hots for Frankie Mason. And this was the  look on your face the first night we came to Grey's and you met Joe  Talbot."

Lisa was horrified. "You've got to be joking. There's nothing going on with my face."

She pushed herself up on the stool, trying to catch a glimpse of herself  in the glass gantry of the bar. "There's nothing weird about my face.  Nothing at all."

Mags gestured over to Cameron, the barman. "Two more cocktails, Cam."  She rolled her eyes as she looked at Lisa. "We're going to need them.  It's going to be a long night."





Chapter Four





‡


It was ridiculous. He felt like some kind of night-time prowler. He'd  spotted Lisa earlier, talking to someone at the hospital entrance and  this was the third ward he'd ‘wandered into'. What on earth was wrong  with him?

Mary had eyed him suspiciously on the children's ward as he'd glanced  into the room she'd been in before. He'd said he was looking for Dan  –   but he was quite sure that hadn't washed.

The nurse on the assessment unit was friendly and easy-going. "Hi, Adam.  You heard we had cookies, didn't you?" She lifted a silver tray from  behind the desk. The aroma hit him instantly. Double chocolate, white  chocolate and cranberry, raisin and oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies  were all crammed on the tray.

He smiled. "Have you been guarding these with your life? I'm surprised the whole hospital isn't queued out the door."

She gave him a wink. "You're late. This is actually the third tray. One  of our nurses was baking cookies for her kid's school and decided just  to bake a whole lot more for us. We've had people in and out all day."

Adam grabbed a cookie and took a bite. "What kind of people?"

He cringed as she frowned. Subtlety obviously wasn't his strong point.  She waved her hand as she picked up a set of notes and started down the  corridor. "All sorts. Help yourself. I need to finish admitting a  patient."

She disappeared into one of the rooms and he casually strolled down the  corridor nibbling the cookie. It didn't take him long to spot Lisa.

She was dressed in black again  –  why did she always wear black?  –  and  was sitting next to an elderly patient helping her with her food.

Adam recognized the patient  –  Mrs. Goldman. A frail elderly woman with  dementia. He'd been called to the ward on a few occasions to help out.  The lady was easily agitated and very confused about time and place  –   all expected in dementia, but sometimes difficult to deal with,  especially when the patient was out of familiar surroundings.

Lisa was chatting away as she cut the food into bite size chunks and  lifted it to Mrs. Goldman's mouth. Dementia patients were often poorly  nourished  –  forgetting about food on a regular basis. But Lisa's voice  was soothing. Mrs. Goldman seemed to be having a moment of lucidity and  she was chatting with Lisa about when she got married, and Lisa, in  turn, was telling her about her wedding dress shop.

By the time they'd finished chatting the food was more or less gone and  Lisa lifted the plate and offered to go and make Mrs. Goldman some tea.