04 Lowcountry Bordello(24)

Seth gave Olivia a triumphant smirk and sauntered towards the car. Olivia glared at his retreating back. Her left eyebrow arched, her eyes killing him a thousand times over with poison darts. Then she snapped back into party girl mode.

“Whatever. Seth, I declare you will not spoil our fun. Y’all drink up. We have plenty more champagne.”

The driver helped the ladies in the car. After he closed the door, he shook his head, squared his shoulders, and got into the drivers’ seat. The limo rolled down the street. I heard Nate on the stairs. Then the sound of trumpets, like the ones used to announce royalty, rang out from my phone.

“Hey, Mamma.”

“E-liz-a-beth Su-zanne Tal-bot.”

Those eight syllables, enunciated with precision, spelled Big Trouble. “What’s wrong?”

Nate walked through the door.

“Not a single solitary thing, except that your sister and I have been waiting here for thirty minutes at Maddison Row with Nicolette for your final dress fitting. Nicolette has reminded Merry and me five times that this final fitting should’ve been two weeks ago, as if she or I either one had a say in the matter.”

I squeezed my eyes closed. “Oh, Mamma, I’m so, so sorry.” I’d completely forgotten about the fitting.

“Where on the Good Lord’s earth are you?”

“I’m only a few blocks away.”

Miles maybe. Maddison Row, the bridal boutique, was on Spring Street. I looked at Nate.

He must’ve recognized the desperation in my eyes. He stood at the ready, the question in his eyes, What can I do?

“I suppose if you’re driving that explains why you didn’t respond to Merry’s messages. But really, you could’ve called.” She tsked. “You were bound to get overwhelmed. We didn’t have nearly enough time to plan this wedding. I don’t know why you children couldn’t wait until spring. We’ll see you in a few minutes. Drive safe.” Mamma ended the call.

Merry had texted me? I looked at my phone. Sonavabitch. I’d missed five texts with escalating urgency. I’d been so wrapped up in the show Olivia was putting on, I hadn’t seen the messages.

I looked at what I’d left the house in that morning. Ann Taylor skinny jeans, a blue twinset, and black ballet flats. This would not fly with Mamma for a final fitting at such a nice salon.

“I need a dress.”

“Why?” Nate’s look telegraphed his incomprehension.

“The fitting. I forgot all about the fitting.”

I could swing by Anne’s on King Street on the way. It would take an extra few minutes. What in the name of sweet reason was I thinking? I’d never picked out a dress in less than an hour in my entire life.

I’d just have to go as I was. That was all there was to it. Mamma wouldn’t be happy, and that snooty wedding coordinator, Nicolette, would turn up her nose, but it wouldn’t be the first time for either circumstance.

Nate walked over and stood in front of me. He put his hands on my arms and rubbed.

“You look gorgeous. You always look gorgeous.”

“You are a prince. But you don’t understand—”

“But I do. You, Slugger, are the bride. This is your day y’all are planning. You can go in your pajamas if you like. It’s that wedding Nazi your mamma hired who doesn’t understand.”

“But Mamma—”

“Your mamma loves you. She wants to share this with you. Go drink champagne with your mamma and your sister. Ignore that Nicolette. Fire her ass, better yet.”

I giggled and shook off the anxiety. Nate was right. Nicolette was hired help. I ran into the bathroom to freshen up. A little powder, mascara, a fresh coat of lipstick. I ran a comb through my hair and looked at myself with a critical eye. It would have to do. I would have to do.

“I would drop you off,” Nate said, as I stepped back into the bedroom. “But one of us needs to get these cameras installed and the phone tapped. Everything I’ll need is in the back of the Explorer, so you can’t drive off in it. I called Scoop. Your car should be downstairs any moment.”

Scoop was a free electric car service in the city. You watch the advertising on the back of the headrests and tip the driver. “I was just wishing we had both our cars here—thanks. Can I borrow your phone? I want to text Olivia from it so she can just reply if she runs into trouble.”

“Good idea.” He handed me his phone.

I texted Olivia: Forgot dress fitting. This is alternate contact in case of change in plans. Olivia would understand.

I grabbed a few items I’d need when I got back from a utility bag we traveled with and transferred them to a zippered compartment in my large Kate Spade tote.