“You should talk to Nate,” I suggest. “With his two businesses, he has to know someone.”
“Good idea, Quin.” Harlow rests her head on my shoulder. “That smart brain of yours isn’t totally turned off for the night.”
“It’s been a while since someone flirted with me. Thanks, Har.” I grin. “Mia, don’t you have a cake tasting coming up?”
“Oh.” She brightens, glad to talk about her big day. “I do. I had hoped Nate would be available, but he said he wants to enjoy the party as a guest. He already has thirty weddings scheduled for next summer and twenty on the calendar for the year after. One of his cake baking videos went viral, and the number of emails he’s getting is absurd. I don’t know how he manages everything without an assistant.”
“I don’t think he sleeps. Who did you end up going with?” I ask. “And do you have any leftover samples you can share with us?”
“Of course I do. I have to take care of my girls. I’ll bring them out after dinner.” Mia laughs. “The baker I want to use, Cakes by Kate, is double-checking her availability. She does these beautiful three-tiered monstrosities that are so gorgeous, you almost don’twant to eat them. Richard’s mother also recommended her, so I know she’s fantastic.”
“Dick’s mother?” Harlow smirks, and I swat at her. “What? Come on. Who knowingly names their child Richard? Or Peter? Or Johnson?”
“Your knowledge of phallic names is impressive.” I look over at Mia. “Do we like Richard’s mom? She was … intense at your dress fitting a couple months ago.”
“That’s how his whole family is.” She pops a grape in her mouth, chewing it slowly. “Lots of money, very particular. Everything has to be perfect, from the way the tablecloths are folded to the shape of the vases for the flowers. You all know me. I don’t care about any of that. I’d be happy in a vintage dress and Converse. Beef carpaccio as an appetizer? I’d rather eat a slider. But that’s a part of marriage, I think. Compromising. Finding a happy medium.”
“As long as you don’t give up too much of yourself.” Harlow gives Mia a look. “Ten years down the road, you don’t want to be wondering who the hell you are.”
“I’ll never forget who I am. I have you all to remind me.” Mia beams at us. “Oh! Speaking of that, your bridesmaid dresses came in.”
She jumps off her stool, hurrying down the hall. When she disappears around a corner, Harlow takes a big sip of wine.
“If she comes back with pink, frilly, cupcake dresses, there’s a one hundred percent chance I’m walking down the aisle drunk.”
“Oh my god.” I burst out laughing. “I wouldkillto see you in a cupcake dress.”
“Shut up.” She sticks out her tongue, straightening when Mia skips back to the kitchen with a garment bag. “It looks fairly small,” Harlow says out of the corner of her mouth. “Definitely not cupcake sized.”
“Two things were nonnegotiable for me: my dress, and your dresses. I don’t care what Richard’s sisters wear down the aisle, but you two? I’ve been waiting for this moment since high school.”
Mia carefully lays the bag on the island. She unzips it from the top and pulls out two gowns. The first is dark blue, the color of the sky at midnight. Thin straps, a low back. The flash of silver when the soft material moves under her touch as she passes it my way. “For you, Quin. It reminded me of the moon, which reminded me of you.”
“Mia.” My thumb traces the intricate stitching. “This is gorgeous.”
“I thought you might like it. And for Harlow—” She holds up the next dress, the silk a rich green with a slit that comes halfway up the leg. “A showstopper for a showstopper.”
“Shut up.” Harlow touches the soft fabric. I swear a tear rolls down her cheek. “It is so not a cupcake.”
“A cupcake? What—”
A shrill sound cuts her off. All three of our phones light up on the counter, and I reach for mine, eyes bulging wide at the emergency alert issued for the area.
“That scared the shit out of me.” Mia puts a hand on her chest. “Is it an Amber Alert?”
“No. A tornado warning. You all need to take immediate shelter in an interior room.” I jump off my stool and put the dress back in the garment bag, not wanting to ruin it. “And I need to go.”
“Go? Go where?” Harlow puts her hand on my arm. “Quin.”
“What?” I toss the bottle of water I’ve been sipping in my bag. “I’m obviously going to chase it.”
“That is the exact opposite of what the alert told us to do,” Mia argues.
“It’s part of my job.”
“It’s the worst part of your job. I always worry about you.”Harlow fills a napkin with cheese cubes, shoving it my way. “Take this. You need sustenance.”
“You’re an angel.” I smile. “And I promise I’ll be careful.”
