Jill reached for some bread, carefully selecting a whole-wheat roll. ‘‘Just because you fell into his arms doesn't mean you're going to marry him,'' she said in a matter-of-fact voice.
‘‘I know that.''
‘‘Then what's the problem?''
‘‘I can't make myself believe it,'' Shelly said. ‘‘I feel like one tiny pin fighting the force of a giant magnet.''
‘‘That's preposterous.''
‘‘I know,'' Shelly agreed readily. ‘‘I just wish I hadn't said anything to Mark.''
Jill set the roll on her plate with exaggerated care. ‘‘You told him the story about your aunt Milly's wedding dress?''
‘‘Of course not.'' Shelly was horrified her friend would suggest such a thing. ‘‘I just told him I couldn't marry him.''
Jill's mouth dropped. ‘‘You didn't! Did you?''
Shelly nodded hesitantly. ‘‘I don't know what made me say anything so ludicrous. I honestly don't. I can't imagine what he must think of me. Not that I plan on seeing him again, of course. Unless-''
‘‘Unless what?''
Their lunches were served. Jill had ordered a hot spinach salad with slices of chicken simmering in soy sauce sprinkled with sesame seeds. Shelly's spinach salad was piled high with shrimp, egg slices and black olives.
‘‘Go on,'' Jill urged once the waitress had left the table. ‘‘You don't plan on seeing Mark again unless-''
‘‘Unless it's unavoidable.''
‘‘I take it this means your aunt Milly's first encounter with your uncle John wasn't her last.'' Jill giggled. ‘‘Silly of me. Obviously it wasn't.''
‘‘No. Aunt Milly felt the same reluctance I do. My uncle was a wonderful man, don't get me wrong, and he was absolutely perfect for Aunt Milly, as it turned out, but the two of them were as different as night and day. Aunt Milly was a college graduate and Uncle John never completed high school.''
Shelly sighed wistfully. At one time the story of their romance had been like her own personal fairy tale. But now Shelly didn't find it nearly as enthralling. ‘‘He helped Milly fix her car the night it broke down. The very next day she was in court defending a client in a law-suit-''
‘‘Let me guess,'' Jill interrupted, ‘‘your uncle John was the man suing her client.''
Shelly nodded. ‘‘Yes, and that was only the beginning. Every time they turned around they were bumping into each other.''
‘‘How long after they met were they married?''
This was the question Shelly had dreaded most. She closed her eyes and whispered, ‘‘Ten days.''
‘‘Ten days,'' Jill echoed with an incredulous look.
‘‘I know. It seems that once they kissed they both realized there wasn't any use fighting it.''
‘‘Did your aunt tell John about the seamstress and the wedding dress?''
Shelly shrugged. ‘‘I don't know, but my guess is she didn't … at least not at first.'' She hadn't touched her salad yet and paused long enough to savor a forkful of her favorite seafood. Then she said abruptly, ‘‘They eloped without telling anyone.''
‘‘Children?'' Jill wanted to know.
‘‘Three boys. My mother's cousins.''
‘‘What about granddaughters? You'd think your aunt Milly would want to hand the dress down to one of them.''
‘‘All three of her sons had boys themselves. I guess you could say I'm the closest thing she's got to a granddaughter.''
‘‘Ten days,'' Jill repeated. ‘‘That's really something.''
Forking up another succulent shrimp, Shelly continued her story. ‘‘That old Scottish woman knew about the wedding even before the family did. When Aunt Milly and Uncle John returned from their honeymoon, there was a wedding card from the seamstress waiting for them at the house.''
Jill propped her elbows on the table and gazed at Shelly. ‘‘Tell me what Mark Brady looks like.''
Shelly frowned, trying to form her impressions of him into some kind of reasonably articulate description. He was compelling in ways she didn't quite understand. Principled and headstrong, but how she knew that, Shelly couldn't explain. ‘‘He's tall,'' she began slowly.
‘‘How tall?''
‘‘Basketball-player tall. He must be about six five.''
‘‘Brown hair?''
Shelly nodded. ‘‘With blue eyes. Really blue eyes. I can't remember the last time I met a man with eyes that precise color. They seemed to … '' She hesitated, unsettled by the emotion that stirred within her when she thought about Mark. Although their encounter had been brief, Shelly was left feeling oddly certain that she could trust this man, trust him implicitly. It wasn't a sensation she could ever remember experiencing with any other man. She didn't like the feeling; it made her uncomfortable. Until Jill had started asking her about Mark, Shelly didn't realize she'd experienced any emotion toward him-except for embarrassment, of course.
‘‘Why do you want to know?'' she asked.
Jill gave her a silly, knowing grin. ‘‘Because if he's as tall as you say, with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes, then the man you described just walked into this restaurant.''
‘‘What?'' Shelly felt her stomach sink. ‘‘Mark's here? Mark Brady?''
‘‘That's not so amazing, is it? This is, after all, the same shopping mall in which you, uh, met-'' Jill made a show of glancing at her watch ‘‘-thirty or so minutes ago.''
‘‘He's here.'' She reminded herself that Jill was right: Mark's choosing to have lunch at Patrick's was just a logical coincidence. Too bad she couldn't convince her racing heart to believe that.
‘‘He's sitting on the other side of the room,'' Jill whispered.
‘‘Has he seen me yet?''
‘‘I don't think so.''
Without being obvious-or at least Shelly hoped she wasn't being obvious-she turned to look in his direction. At that same instant, Mark happened to glance up. Their eyes met. Despite herself, she gasped. Her hands shook and she felt herself break out in a cold sweat.
Mark scowled and quickly looked away.
She couldn't blame him. He seemed surprised to see her there. Unpleasantly surprised.
‘‘Well, is it him?'' Jill demanded.
Shelly couldn't find her voice, so she answered with a quick nod.
‘‘I thought it might be. What are you thinking?''
‘‘That I've lost my appetite.'' Shelly doubted she'd be able to finish her lunch.
‘‘You want my advice?'' Jill asked, grinning broadly. ‘‘I don't have a lot of experience in the area of magic wedding dresses, but I recently read a fascinating book on home remedies.''
‘‘Sure.'' At this point Shelly was feeling reckless enough to try just about anything.
‘‘Garlic,'' Jill said solemnly. ‘‘Wear a garlic rope around your neck. Not only does it deter vampires, but it just might ward off potential husbands conjured up by a magic wedding dress.''
Chapter Four
HARD THOUGH SHE TRIED, Shelly had a difficult time ignoring Mark Brady. He sat there, stiff and unapproachable, at the other side of the small restaurant. Just as stiff and unapproachable as she was. Jill wanted to linger over her coffee before returning to her job at the PayRite Pharmacy in the mall, but Shelly was eager to be on her way. The sooner she left, the sooner she could put this bothersome encounter out of her mind.
‘‘Don't forget Morgan's baby shower on Tuesday night,'' Jill said as Shelly reached for her purse.
Shelly had completely forgotten about their friend's party, which was understandable given her present state of mind. Most of their college friends were married and several were now having babies. Rather than admit how absentminded she'd suddenly become, Shelly asked, ‘‘Do you want to drive over together?''