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The second Faye turned her attention to the customer, I ripped into the envelope and unfolded the single sheet of folded notepaper inside.
Margot—
I’m sorry we missed each other for lunch today. Join me for dinner? I’ll be at the Corner Bistro at seven. Hope to see you there.
—Tanner
I’d passed the Corner Bistro several times. It was right across the street from Bainbridge’s. It was a cozy little romantic restaurant that could’ve been at home on a Parisian street. Just the right setting for the two of us.
I had a dinner date, and I was free of Josh. Things were looking up.
∞∞∞
Until I made it back to Lindsay’s room where things with my sister were definitely goingdown.
“Personally, I don’t think I should be allowed to touch it.” I held my hands up, refusing to take Lindsay’s wedding dress, which my mother was attempting to shove into my arms. I held up my fingers in the shape of a cross, just to be safe.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Margot,” my mother huffed. “We trust you.”
“You trust me not to run away with Lindsay’s dress? I am shocked. Speechless. Why, the dress and I could be halfway to the border before anyone even knows we’re gone.”
“Ooh! Which border?” Troy asked with a light in his eyes. He clasped his hands and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He entertained my flights of fancy. Such excellent brother-in-law material.
“Don’t encourage her,” Lindsay said from her seat at the desk. She was inspecting her face in the lighted, three-way mirror she’d set up there.
“Why doesn’t Lindsay take it?” I hugged my arms to my chest and rolled down onto one of the beds so Mom would stop shoving the dress at me.
“I’m exfoliating.” She swiveled around in the chair and held her legs out. They were covered in goop.
“You exfoliate your face, not your legs.”
“Youmight,” Lindsay said in an accusatory tone. “But unlike you, I don’t skip steps—or whole body parts—in my beauty regimen. I’ll have the smoothest, most beautiful legs possible.”
“You already do.” Troy smiled and went over and kissed her on the mouth. I was surprised he didn’t kiss her goop-covered legs. Lindsay beamed when they came up for air. Her eyes followed his every movement as he returned to his chair. They were cute and inexplicable at the same time.
I rolled to my side. My mom had given up trying to shove the dress at me and had sat on the other bed. “Why can’tyoutake it, Mom?”
Her eyes went wide. “And have to figure out the subway system? ThenI’dbe halfway to the border, and your father would have to come find me.”
My mother did have a terrible sense of direction. I used to think she got lost on purpose, but no, she really did just get lost all the time. She’d probably find her destination faster if she triednotto go there.
“What about Dad? Why can’t he take it?”
“You know your father’s knees. He can’t do those stairs up and down to get in and out of the subway.”
“Why are we taking the dress by train anyway? Aren’t we worried I’ll be mugged for it?”
“No,” my mother and Lindsay said at the same time. A narrow-eyed glance passed between them, and I wondered what they were up to.
“The same dress can’t get stolen twice.” Lindsay nodded, agreeing with herself. “It’s statistically impossible.”
I sat up. “That’s not the least bit true. If a dress were stolen once, it would be more likely to be stolen again because it means it was desirable enough for someone to want to steal it in the first place. Besides, this dress was never stolen.”
“Yes, it was,” Lindsay insisted. “It was kidnapped from my room by someone with sticky fingers. That’s the definition of being stolen.”
“It was stolen for ten minutes, twenty feet down the hall. It wasbarelystolen.”
There was a knock at the door. My mom got up and answered it.
