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She’s going to make some chap very lucky one day.
I grunt.
At that moment, she sticks her head out of the curtain, concealing everything from the neck down. “Muscles!” She’s laughing. “Go!”
But I’m frozen at the sight, telling myself to close my eyes and stop wondering …
Don’t be a creeper, mate.
Her eyebrows lift with an amused tilt, and the motion shocks something in me.
“Right. Yeah. Sorry.” I turn on my heel and rush to one of the two seats. My heart pounds and I pull at the collar of my shirt, tugging it back and forth in rapid succession to create a breeze because WHEN DID SOMEONE TURN UP THE THERMOSTAT IN THIS PLACE? My breath shudders and my knee bobs as I wait for her, finally remembering that I should be paying attention to our surroundings. A quick scan of the boutique shows it’s just us and Stephanie, who is busy on her computer behind the desk.
She glances up, finds me looking her way, and waves.
I give her the guy head nod of acknowledgment and turn to find Chloe coming around the bend. And see? I was right. She’s perfection, and it has nothing to do with what she’s wearing.
Somehow, she makes the ugliest gown in the world look like it was made for royalty. The fitted bodice and high neck only serve to accentuate her curves, hugging her in all the right places.
“It looks like a peacock and a fox had a baby.” Chloe turns and shows off a long zip. Orange and yellow ruffles that resemble “plumage” trail from her waist down to the ground, where they drag a good meter behind. Then she wiggles her rear and all the ruffles sway, making it appear as if orange water is trailing down her person. “What do you think, Freddy?” She poses, a hand propped on her hip, the other in the air as she sweeps her nose up to the ceiling.
“He’s in utter awe, Princess.”
I jump from my seat at Stephanie’s voice behind me and twirl to find her standing there, phone in one hand, the other clasped against her chest as she smiles. Did she take photos?
“Sorry,” Stephanie squeaks when she sees me advance toward her. “I’m a gossip rag queen and I could have sworn I recognized you, Princess Chloe. You’re my favorite princess of all the princesses out there.” She loops down into an awkward bow.
Clearly, she’s not a threat—at least, physically. But if she leaks the photos I’m sure she took, then she could do some major damage, nonetheless.
I glance back at Chloe, who is gripping the full skirt of her gown as she leaves the raised step and heads this way. “That’s so sweet of you, Stephanie.” When she reaches us, she places another calming hand on my arm but keeps her gaze on the shopkeeper. “So, can I tell you a secret?”
“Of course you can.” Stephanie flips her phone between her two hands.
“Well, here’s the thing.” Chloe smooths a strand of hair behind her ear. “This wedding is supposed to be a secret, and we came all the way here, to Hallmark Beach, because we’d hoped for some privacy.”
“Oh, I won’t tell anyone you were here. Not at all.” Pressing her finger and thumb together, she moves them across her lips. “I promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, Stephanie. Because Frederick here is actually a bodyguard, and if I don’t get your absolute solemn vow that you won’t tell a soul about this until after the wedding is over, then I’m not sure I can keep him from confiscating your phone as a matter of national security.”
Oh, she’s good. Both charming Stephanie and threatening her all at once—but without being obvious about it.
I fold my arms over my chest and steel my gaze to back up what Chloe said. It’s not as if I have any jurisdiction here in America to take people’s property, and Chloe knows that.
But Stephanie clearly doesn’t, because her head bobs up and down and she holds up three fingers. “I absolutely promise.” Squinting at her own hand, she changes which fingers she’s holding up. Looks a bit longer. Then nods. “Scout’s honor.”
Then, much to my chagrin—and Stephanie’s delight—Chloe pulls Stephanie in for a quick hug. “Thank you, dear. You’ve made me so happy.” She pulls back. “Now, I’m going to finish trying on dresses. Is that all right?”
“Oh, more than. In fact”—Stephanie continues—“I’m going to close the shop while you do that. You know, to ensure you have more privacy.”
“You think of everything, Stephanie. Thank you.”
“You just let me know if you need anything else. Anything at all. A slip. Champagne. My Social Security number.” Stephanie laughs, a bit of a nervous edge bubbling up.
I get it. It’s the Chloe Effect.
That doesn’t mean I’m fully convinced that Stephanie won’t blab to everyone she knows about this encounter. But we’ve done all we can do, and Chloe’s safe from harm. We’ll just have to see how the rest of it plays out later this week.
Stephanie flutters away and gives the door lock a click, then flips the sign on the front door to CLOSED, flashing us a thumbs-up afterward before heading back to her desk.
