Always the Wedding Planner, Never the Bride Page 10

  Andy snatched the terrycloth robe from the hook on the back of the bathroom door and aimed it at Russell's midsection. "Speaking of not very nice," he quipped.

  "Sorry then," he answered with a laugh. "I didn't quite peg you as a wowser, Doc."

  "Andy. How are you feeling today? How's your leg?"

  "Hurts like an angry boomer, mate." He spread the robe across himself and grinned. "Here, all covered up. Call your sheila back in here now."

  "I think my sheila is fine where she is," Andy said, sitting on the side of the bed. "Define the pain for me. Where and how?"

  Russell pulled back the robe a bit to display at least two feet of black and blue that ran up his thigh and to his side. The blood-soaked bandage on his shin pulled away easily, and Andy unzipped his leather bag for fresh supplies.

  "Any additional pain from the fall?"

  "My shoulder aches."

  "Where?" he asked, and he placed his hand over Russell's shoulder like a cap and squeezed slightly.

  "Yeah!" he reacted. "Right there, thankyouverymuch."

  Andy examined him, wondering if the rotator cuff had sustained a full tear. He dressed the wound on Russell's leg and inspected the swelling under his right eye.

  "You're a mess," Andy said while packing away his supplies.

  "You're not the first to make that observation."

  "I believe you. So what happened to Danielle? Did she abandon you?"

  "Wally walkabout," he replied.

  "And in English?"

  "Wally is like an idiot," he explained. "That would be me. And a walkabout is when someone heads out for another view. Sometimes forever."

  "Ah. Sorry."

  "No need. Couldn't expect her to stick around the woopwoop."

  "The . . . ?"

  "Here in nowhere land, mate."

  "I see."

  "Can't say I don't miss having a female in the place though. What's your sheila's name?"

  "Sherilyn."

  "Sherilyn." He repeated it as if he'd taken a bite out of the name and was checking it out for taste. "Lovely. She's a looker, that one."

  "That she is," he replied with a smile. "I'll bring over some ice packs. Emma can keep them in the freezer, and they'll bring them up to you a couple of times a day."

  "Ice," he said. "Anything to go with it? A little Hoochery?"

  "Hoochery?"

  "Corn mash whiskey from down under."

  "Yeah, there'll be none of that for you, Russell. This ice will be straight up, applied to your shoulder for about twenty minutes, twice a day."

  "Be a dag, will ya, Doc?"

  "If a dag is straight-talking, then yes. That's me."

  "A dag is a bit of a fool, if you want to know the truth," Russell told him. "But I mean it in only the purest way."

  "I'll bet. Anything you need?"

  "Besides a visit from Sherilyn?"

  "Yes. Besides that."

  "Some smokes?"

  "Talk to Alan or Sean about that, my Australian friend. I won't be contributing to any of your addictions. And don't let anyone catch you. This is a non-smoking hotel." Russell laughed full-on at that, and Andy pointed at the pill bottle on the night stand. "One of those in about an hour. Don't take it until they bring up a snack. And an ice pack for about twenty minutes before you go to sleep."

  Russell saluted him. "Yessir."

  "Please don't burn the place down, by the way. I have friends here. I'll see you tomorrow."

  "Not too early, right, Doc? A fella needs his beauty sleep."

  "I'll say. You might think about a shower in the morning too. You smell worse than my dog."

  Again, Russell burst into laughter.

  The minute the door opened, Russell sang, "G'night, fair Miss Sherilyn."

  She poked her head through the door and grinned, waving. "Goodnight, Russell."

  Five Tips for Choosing the Perfect Wedding Dress

  Keep a file handy with your favorite dresses from bridal magazines when you go shopping. Share them with your consultant so that she can use them to help you.

  Consider the theme and tone of the wedding when narrowing down your choices.

  For an evening ceremony, you may choose a floorlength, more formal gown.

  Something shorter and less elaborate can be appropriate for daytime.

  Keep your specific figure in mind when choosing a dress. To make this decision, it is often helpful to start with trying on a variety of styles so that you and your maid of honor and/or mother can choose the one that compliments your body.

  Set a budget, and don't try on anything that exceeds that limitation. It can be heartbreaking to find the perfect dress, only to discover you can't afford it. Every dress that follows will likely be a disappointment.

  Be sure to include in your budget alterations, storage, and pressing of the final dress choice.

  When choosing the dress style, keep in mind that certain variations of traditional white can often work better for some brides. An ivory, antique, or cream-colored gown often complements a fair-skinned bride.

  10

  You have to taste this!" Emma cried, and she headed straight at Sherilyn, spoon extended.

  "Wait! What is it?"

  "It's called Pavlova. It's an Australian dessert that Russell told me about."

  "Russell Walker?"

  Emma shrugged. "Yeah, I delivered his breakfast this morning, and we got to talking about baking, and he told me about this. His mother used to make it. Try."

  Sherilyn let Emma spoon-feed her. The moment the splendor hit her tongue, her eyes popped open wide and she began to purr.

  "What's in that?"

  "Egg whites and cornstarch and various fruits. Isn't it spectacular? I snuck a bite or two," she admitted with a shrug. "I can't wait for Fee to get a load of this."

  "Has Russell tasted it yet?"

  "I'm on my way up to take him some now. Do you want to come?"

  Sherilyn thought about it for a moment. The way Andy had hustled her out of that room the night before, she almost felt a

  little wicked for considering it. But she couldn't seem to deny her curiosity. And wasn't it safer in numbers, after all?

  "Okay."

  "Lunch is on the tray," Emma told her. "I'll carry that if you'll take the dessert."

  "Sure."

  "Oh, and grab the basket over there?"

  "What's in here?" Sherilyn inquired as she picked it up.

  "A little something for Sean. He's a doll baby."

  "Shall we take bets?" Sherilyn asked as they waited for the elevator.

  "On?"

  "On whether this dessert makes it to the third floor."

  They both chuckled at that, and Sherilyn eyed the covered plate with animated interest as the elevator hummed upward.

  "Hi, Sean."

  "Hey, Miss Emma. Miss Caine."

  "Sherilyn."

  He nodded as she slipped the basket from her arm and handed it to him as Emma knocked at the hotel room door.

  "Lunch is served."

  "Thank you both," Sean said, and his smile pinched Sherilyn's cheek as she passed him.

  "Two for the price of one, hey?" Russell teased as Emma set out his lunch on the table by the window. "Sherilyn is it?"

  She nodded. "Nice to see you when you're not landing in a heap at my feet."

  Russell ran a hand through his messy blond hair. "Nice not to fly by you at top speed."

  "What were you doing out there anyway?"

  "That seems to be the question of the week."

  "And?" Emma asked him as she dropped a linen napkin to his lap and handed him a fork.

  "No clue, love."

  Emma produced a second fork from the tray. "Oh, this is Sean's. Hang tight while I deliver it."

  The way he looked at Sherilyn just then made her feel uneasy, as if he might drink her right up. "Squat a sec?" he asked her, nodding to the empty chair across from him.

  She sat down and folded her hands in her lap, wishin
g he didn't make her feel quite so uneasy.

  "So Emma is a baker," he said, stuffing a chunk of ham and cheese omelette into his mouth. "What do you do to keep this hotel on its feet?"

  "I'm the wedding planner."

  He narrowed his eyes and surveyed her for a moment. "Weddings. Really."

  Sherilyn chuckled at his reaction. "This is a wedding destination hotel."

  "Is it?" he asked curiously, and she nodded. "Buckley's chance I'll be back again then."

  She didn't speak Australian slang, but she guessed that meant something like a snowball's chance of survival in a very warm climate.

  "You'll be married here?" he asked, nodding toward her engagement ring.

  "Probably."

  "Your fella's a good enough bloke."

  "I think so," she said, and a slow grin spread wide across her face.

  "I suppose you two will be cranking out babies soon enough, hey?"

  "We thought we'd get married first and see how that goes," she teased. "You're a very nosy person, aren't you, Mr. Walker?"

  "Nosy," he repeated. "Not so stickybeak as I am just curious. It's not my scene, marriage and babies and the like."

  "No?"

  He laughed. "No."

  "That doesn't mean it couldn't be someday. When you're through . . ." She couldn't think of a way to finish politely.

  "Horsing around?"

  She shrugged and resisted a smile. "Well, yes."

  "Does a fella ever finish that?"

  "I hope so," she replied as Emma slipped the door open.

  "Sher, you ready?"

  "Yes, I have a consultation in a few minutes," she told them both.

  "Pleasure earbashing," he told Sherilyn. "Feel free to come again. We never close."

  Sherilyn reached out her hand, and he stared at it for a moment before shaking it.

  "Nice to meet you, Mr. Walker. I hope you do well tomorrow."

  "See you again before I check out?"

  "I'm not sure."

  All of a sudden he looked very tired, a little uncomfortable, out of sorts. Then he nodded toward her throat and tapped his finger on his Adam's apple. "Say one for me?" he asked, and she realized he'd referenced the small gold cross on the chain around her neck. "You pray, I take it? Will you say one for me?"

  "I can't think of anyone who needs it more," she said with a straight face before it melted down into a smile.

  "Fair go," he replied as Alan Burkus made an entrance.

  "What, are you eating again?"

  "S'all there is to do here, mate," Russell snapped back before sneaking Sherilyn a wink and a smile.

  "You'll be fat as a cow by the time we get you out of this place."

  "Well, it seems to work for you. Why not let me give it a go then?"

  "Oh," Emma called back to him from the door, "by the way. There's a little surprise for you on the dresser. Eat your lunch like a good boy, and then you have your dessert."

  "What is it?"

  "Wait and see!"

  Sherilyn wiggled her fingers at him as she backed out of the room behind Emma and closed the door.

  "Need anything, Sean?" Emma asked.

  "It's all good."

  "You know where to find me."

  He nodded at them both as they rounded the corner.

  "He kind of breaks my heart a little," Sherilyn said as they waited on the elevator.

  "Who? Russell?"

  "Yes."

  "Keep your distance, Sher."

  "That, too."

  The elevator doors slid open, and Fee stood before them, two ice packs in her hands.

  "Oh, I forgot those," Emma said.

  "I saw that," Fee replied. "Thought I'd bring them up." Emma nodded toward the corner. "Just pass them on to Sean. He's outside the door."

  Emma and Sherilyn followed as far as the corner. "This is Fee," Emma called out. "She's got Russell's ice packs."

  Sean nodded, popped up and headed for Fee, leaving his lunch basket on the chair behind him. Fee stood inexplicibly frozen in her tracks right in the middle of the corridor. "Fee?" Sherilyn said, but she didn't move.

  Suddenly, just before Sean reached her, Fee turned around toward them, her back to Sean and her face paler than her usual pale, and she gasped.

  "What is it?" Emma asked, and Fee clutched her heart, closed her eyes tight for an instant, then she opened them wide and mouthed, "Whoa!!"

  Sean came to a halt just behind her, and Sherilyn nodded emphatically for Fee to turn around. When she did, she looked up into Sean's face, but she didn't say a word. To Sherilyn's surprise, Sean didn't say anything for a moment either, and their gazes seemed locked together.

  "Sean, this is Fee," Emma finally interjected. "She works with me. Fiona, say hello to Sean already."

  They could barely hear it as Fee rasped, "H-hullo."

  "Hello."

  Sean took the ice packs from her, and Fee just stood there, grinning at him.

  "Okay," Emma said at last, and she looped her arm into Fee's. "We'll just be going now. You'll make sure Russell uses those?"

  Sean nodded.

  "Great. See you later then."

  Sherilyn grabbed Fee's other arm, and the three of them headed back toward the corner. Fee strained her neck and sputtered over her shoulder, "Pleasure m-meeting you."

  "The pleasure's mine."

  When they rounded the corner and reached the elevator, Emma jammed the call button several times.

  "Dude, did you see that guy? He's . . . he's magNIFicent!"

  Emma and Sherilyn locked eyes over Fee's bowed head.

  "Is this the same girl who said she didn't think she had any fireworks in her future?" Emma asked, and she and Sherilyn giggled as they nudged Fee into the elevator.

  "The very same."

  "Did you see that guy?" Fee asked Sherilyn. Looking to Emma, she said, "Why didn't you mention . . . I mean, I've never seen anyone like him. I think he actually made my heart stop, Em. It literally stopped beating. He's like a young, buff Montel, don't you think? Montel meets . . . meets . . . LL Cool J! Oh, and that smile! Dude, has he ever smiled at you before? He's just . . . just . . . I can't breathe. You guys, I think my heart stopped."

  "Give yourself a couple of days," Sherilyn promised, pressing the lobby button on the panel. "It will start up again."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Almost positive."

  "Oh, good. Andrew . . . Mona, bring in another cup so Andrew can have some tea with us."

  Andy stood in the arched doorway to the dining room, and he scratched his head as he struggled to reconcile what he'd found there.

  "Hi, Andy. Good to see you again."

  "Maya." He glanced at his mother, then back to his ex. "What are you doing here?"

  "She came to see me, darling," Vanessa said, as if that explained everything, but questions swirled around in his head, making such a racket that he could hardly think past the noise.

  "You might try chamomile," Mona whispered as she slipped past him toward the table. "They say it's very soothing."

  I found the woman making out with the stereo installation guy! And my mother is casually socializing with her? Having a spot of TEA?

  He wondered how long it had been going on. How many afternoons had they spent sipping tea and talking over only- God-knew-what?

  Mona probably knew what too, he noted. She always seemed to be in the know.

  "Take a seat, darling." Vanessa pushed the third teacup toward the empty chair next to Maya.

  Andy picked up the cup and carried it with him around the table to the other side, and he sat down across from Maya, to Vanessa's left. An instant later, a blur of white caught his eye, and he looked toward the window where Henry stood on the other side.

  "Mother, you locked Henry outside again?"

  "He refuses to stay off the sofa, Andrew. I will not have that beast crawling all over the furniture."

  "All you have to do is tell him to get down."

  "I did, an
d he growled at me. I won't be growled at in my own home."

  "Mother."

  "And that goes for you too. Don't growl at your mother." Maya interrupted. "You have a dog?"

  "Catch me up to speed here," Andy suggested, pulling his eyes away from Henry's, locked onto him from the other side of the glass. "Because seeing the two of you here like this kind of blows my mind."

  Henry barked one time in apparent agreement, and Andy realized his heart was pounding hard as he awaited the answer.

  "After I saw you the other night," Maya said, brushing a strand of hair away from her suntanned face, "I kept thinking about you, wishing I'd said more. So I called your mom and—"

  "Like what?" he interrupted, and he forced a quiver of a smile to cut back the intensity. "What more do you have to say that hasn't already been said?"

  "Andrew."

  "No, Mother, really. I'd like to know what Maya thinks there is left to say."

  Maya pursed her ruby red lips for a moment as she inspected the inside of her teacup. She inhaled sharply, inched to the edge of her chair, and looked up at him. Andy's pulse tapped out a rat-a-tat-tat when she did. "I think what I really wanted to say was that . . . I'm sorry. And I hope there aren't any hard feelings between us, and I wish that we could . . . be friends."

  Andy simply looked at her, and the moment seemed frozen.

  "Andy," Maya said on an uneasy chuckle. "Say something." He continued to stare at her, trying to bridge the gap between her lips being attached to some other guy and the words they uttered now. He shook his head, and a clumsy smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.

  "Andrew," Vanessa reprimanded. "You're being rude."

  A roll of laughter bubbled up in him, and he couldn't suppress it. "Am I?" he asked. "Am I really?"

  Andy stood up and rounded the table, pausing to rest his hand on his mother's shoulder for a moment before he stepped behind Maya. Leaning down close to her ear, he softly told her, "I choose my friends a little more carefully these days, thanks to you. And although I appreciate the apology, next time . . . send a note."

  And with that, Andy stalked out of the room. As he crossed the foyer, he turned to find Mona standing there.

  "Let Henry inside when she's not looking, will you?"

  "I've already devised a plan."

  And with that, Andy continued the march and headed directly out the front door.