“You could call him,” Rachel offered.
“She probably has cell service blocked,” Sienna grumbled.
Rachel grinned. “I would have to agree with you.”
Sienna looked at Courtney. “Do you know Joyce’s grandson? The rich music guy?”
“Quinn?” Courtney hoped she asked the question with the right amount of polite disinterest. “He’s staying at the hotel, so I’ve seen him around.”
Not a lie, she told herself. She had seen him around. She might have asked him to have sex with her, but no one needed to know that.
“I wonder if he’d be open to hearing a presentation about what we’re doing,” Sienna said. “Getting another duplex would be huge for us. That’s at least two more families who’ll be safe. Or if we use one of the properties for women without kids, then three victims could stay there at a time.”
Courtney felt the familiar tendrils of guilt coil through her. While she wasn’t sure how to define her relationship with Quinn, she supposed she did know him well enough to introduce him to her sister. And it was for a good cause.
“Talk to Joyce,” Rachel interjected. “Get her on board, then let her go after Quinn. He adores his grandmother and I suspect he would do anything for her.”
“What makes you say that?” Sienna asked.
“The way she talks about him when I see her. They’re close.”
“She’s right,” Courtney said quickly, mentally apologizing for throwing her boss under the bus. “She could really go to work on him.”
The double doors to the dressing room opened and Betty came out.
“Your mother requested dresses that weren’t white. So cream, ecru and ivory are our main choices. We can do a special order in blush, if that’s what she prefers. Time is tight, but there are a couple of designers who can be pushed a little. For a fee, of course.”
Betty stepped aside and Maggie walked into the main part of the salon.
Courtney hadn’t known what to expect. She’d seen pictures of her mother’s first marriage to Courtney’s dad. Maggie had worn a long-sleeved gown with a full A-line skirt. There’d been a bit of lace, but for the most part the dress had been plain. This dress was anything but.
The strapless champagne-colored dress clung from bust to knees. It was completely covered with a beautiful lace that had a slight sparkle. From the knees to the floor was a huge pouf of rippling champagne-colored fabric. Courtney didn’t know enough about wedding dresses to know if it was satin or something else that was shiny. The pouf formed a bit of a train.
The sisters stared as Maggie walked to the dais and stepped up in front of the huge mirror. As Maggie studied herself, Courtney saw that the dress dipped low in back.
“That’s got to be one amazing bra,” Rachel murmured.
“It’s doing the job,” Maggie said, turning to the left, then the right. “But it’s not comfortable. I don’t know. What do you three think?”
“You’re stunning,” Courtney said, telling herself that she came from a really good gene pool. She might be freakishly tall, but at least she would most likely age well.
Sienna walked closer. “It’s pretty, Mom, but the color is wrong. Champagne isn’t in your palette. I doubt this dress can be special ordered in time. There’s a lot of custom work in it.”
“She’s right,” Betty informed them. “You would have to take it in this color. You could, of course, adjust your wedding palette.”
“No,” Maggie said firmly. “I won’t do that. I like this, but I worry it’s too young for me.”
“You have the body,” Rachel told her. “I’m seriously bitter. You’re in great shape, Mom.”
Courtney took in the amount of bare skin and had to admit her mother was right. While she could physically carry it off, it didn’t seem...appropriate somehow. Not that she was going to walk through that minefield. Still, it was her mother’s wedding and she should be happy.
“Let me try on something else,” Maggie said and stepped down.
Two hours and several more gowns later, Maggie came out in a simple lace gown that had thin shoulder straps and a U-shaped neckline. The heavily beaded fabric followed the lines of her body until the hips, where it fell to the floor in a gentle flare. Beadwork and lace covered every inch, and the beads had a distinct pink cast.
The bodice wasn’t particularly low, and in the back it more than covered a regular bra strap.
“That works,” Sienna said. “It’s really nice, Mom.”
Courtney nodded in agreement. “I like the way the skirt forms a train. It’s not too long, but it makes a statement.”