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Carter begrudgingly looked up from his computer. “Good morning, Clayton. Good to see you again. Try to keep your hand lower when taking photos this time, okay?”
I gave him a thumbs up and turned back to the table.
My entire mood today was, for lack of a better word, giddy. I woke up earlier than normal and showered, checked my email for news from my lawyer (none yet) and ate some toast before gallivanting off to Starbucks to grab Ophelia a coffee I knew she would want. I wanted so badly to be around her, just in the same room because with her everything made sense. Today was a big day for her and her new store, finally getting the bride in the dress she had been working on for weeks, and I was going to be there to witness it.
Ophelia popped out from behind the screen and gave me a bright smile. Her hair was poofy, just the way I loved it, being held out of the way by a gold headband. Her signature gold hoop earrings swayed as she moved. She wore a tank top that flowed around her waist and white shorts. On her feet, instead of heels, she’d donned a pair of flats. She looked comfortable. Breathtakingly comfortable. It took everything I had not to scoop her up and curl up with her on a couch.
“Thank you for the coffee,” she sang as she picked up the paper cup. She hummed. “Whatever Starbucks you go to, they make this perfectly and need to teach the gal in New York.” She took another drink.
“Okay, I’m coming out,” Madeline called.
Carter jumped to attention, his camera ready to go. He came right to my side, aimed his camera toward the screen and waited.
I heard Madeline take a deep breath before stepping around the screen, and she did so gracefully. She kept her head down, her red hair in a messy bun on top of her head with pieces falling down and her free hand holding on to the skirt with her fingertips. The moment she looked up, both Ophelia and I dropped our jaws.
“Oh, wow,” I whispered. Madeline was absolutely stunning. I had seen the dress on the mannequin but seeing it on her was something extremely different. It fit her perfectly, insinuating her every curve. The ivory color made it look more modest, not as bright, and the floral design on the lace matched her personality. I was simply in awe, and if I was, I couldn't imagine what Milo would be like.
She gave a slight chuckle at my comment, and Ophelia raised her hands to cover her lips with her fingers.
“Maddy,” she whispered, taking a step toward her friend. “This is unbelievable.”
Carter hunched his back and followed Ophelia.
“You’re acting like you didn't just help me put it on.” Madeline laughed.
“Yeah, but that entrance,” I defended. “It’s a good thing I’ll be standing next to Milo because he may faint.”
“Well, that entrance was highly staged, thanks to Carter’s direction.” Madeline looked over at the man behind the camera.
“We may have to do it again, this time with you stopping for a photo,” Carter said, raising his head just slightly from the view finder.
“Well,” Ophelia grabbed Madeline’s hand and pulled her over to the sunlight. The dress flowed behind her, the train a shorter length than I had seen. “I see some adjustments I need to make, Clay. . . pin cushion?”
I chuckled under my breath, set my coffee down and grabbed the brand-new purple pin cushion. “I liked my gray one,” I said, giving this new one a squeeze.
“I still have that one. This one is just new and shiny.”
“A pin cushion cannot be shiny,” I protested with a hint of sarcasm.
“Technically, no, but this one is brand new as of last night and it is shiny.”
“But it’s fabric. . .”
“If I have to call your TeslaTessa,then you have to accept the fact that my pin cushion is shiny.” Ophelia’s eyes met mine. They were bright and warm and dare I say excited? Was she enjoying this silly little banter about a pin cushion?
“Okay, you two.” Madeline stopped us. “Dress first, flirtatious banter later.”
“We’re not. . .” Ophelia trailed off, shaking her head. “Okay, anyway, pin cushion.”
I held it up.
I stood in silence as Ophelia took pins and made adjustments to the dress, which weren’t a lot. Madeline stood still and just watched in the mirror as Ophelia circled her, Carter following her around like a puppy.
“Psst,” Madeline whispered my way. “How’s the party planning going?”
“We just have a few details to hash out, but we have the location. We need the guest list when you have it. The sooner the better for invites, right?”
She shrugged, getting a “don’t move”from Ophelia. “Makes sense, I guess. I’ll get it together as soon as I can.”
