Rock Wedding(24)
“We can hang out and talk,” Molly had said with that huge smile of hers that made it impossible not to smile in return. “And as a bonus, we’ll all be here for the morning pampering and makeup session.”
“Are you sure?” Sarah had asked, undone by Molly’s generosity. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re my friend, Sarah.” The other woman had squeezed her hands, her brown eyes luminous. “We might just be starting out in that friendship, but I know it’s one that’ll last.”
Keeping Molly’s words in mind, Sarah drove through the gate after someone opened it for her without her having to push the buzzer, bringing her happy little red car to a halt in front of the house. Three other vehicles were already there: a black sports car, a midnight-blue BMW, and a large, dark gray SUV with rental plates. She’d just opened the back passenger-side door to start gathering up her things when the front door of the house was thrown open.
Molly ran out, dressed in a fabulous halter-neck swimsuit in black, a white sarong tied at her waist. “Sarah!” Her eyes sparkled, every inch of her bubbling with joy. “You’re here!”
Laughing, Sarah met Molly’s hug halfway. “So,” she said, “you’re just slightly happy to be getting married?”
“Hah!” The other woman pushed playfully at Sarah’s shoulders. “I can’t wait to be Molly Webster-Fox!” She looked about an inch away from floating off the ground. “I’ve decided I’m going to be that newlywed—you know, the one who gets monogrammed towels and shows off her wedding photos at every opportunity.”
Infected with Molly’s happiness, Sarah grinned and said, “Why not?” She pulled out the garment bag in which she’d zipped up her turquoise dress.
“Let me take that.” Molly folded the bag carefully over her arm, then took the hatbox so Sarah could grab her overnight bag and the shoebox. “I’m so glad you could come. We are going to have way too much fun. There will be giggling and cocktails and dessert.”
Sarah’d had girlfriends when she was growing up, but her home life hadn’t allowed her to spend time over at their homes or ask them to visit hers. And after she’d run… Well, she’d never actually hung out with a bunch of women and giggled. It sounded oddly appealing.
Having grabbed everything, Sarah shut the car door, then followed Molly into the house. The curvy woman with creamy skin and soft, ink-black hair that curled wildly when not tied back, led her to a large downstairs room. “This is our dressing room,” she said, hanging Sarah’s dress on a clothing stand. There were already three other dresses on there, as well as Molly’s wedding gown.
Molly brushed her fingers over the antique lace on it before putting the hatbox on a table and indicating Sarah could place the shoebox beneath it. “Come on, I’ll show you where you can leave your overnight bag.”
That proved to be another downstairs room, this one set up as a guest room. “I thought you’d like the view into the garden,” Molly said. “It’ll be private even during the wedding since the garden’s hedged off to be a secret nook.”
“It’s wonderful, Molly.” Sarah put down her things. “Thank you.”
The other woman beamed. “You want to change into your suit? We’re going to hang by the pool.”
Sarah felt a stab of that old lack of confidence, a sudden awareness of her height and size. “Can I spy on what the others are wearing first?” she asked in a whisper.
Molly winked. “Sure. Let’s go up.”
Having kicked off their shoes, they padded up the stairs toward the sound of other female voices. “We’ll be doing makeup and hair upstairs tomorrow morning,” Molly told her on the way. “It’s sunnier and we’ll have a view of the water.”
An instant later they reached the sprawling open-plan kitchen/living area.
“Sarah!” Closest to the stairs, Kit came over and kissed Sarah on the cheek.
The actress wore a two-piece in checked red and white, the bottoms little shorts and the bikini top simple but supportive with two thin straps. It gave off a slightly old-fashioned vibe that Sarah liked. Given Kit’s profession, her body was flawless, toned and without an ounce of fat.
“Hey there, my fellow CEO. You want a glass?” Thea held up a bottle of champagne, her golden skin glowing in the early-evening sunshine that flooded the area.
The leggy publicist, whom Sarah had always secretly admired for her innate sense of style, wore a sleek red one-piece over which she’d thrown a floaty garment that covered her arms and came to her thighs. The slick-straight strands of her hair were pinned carelessly in a knot at the back of her head, but somehow Thea still managed to look cool and sophisticated.