Elizabeth was saying something as she hung up her blouse and suit jacket, gathered her purse and gave Lia totally unnecessary instructions for closing.
As Elizabeth approached him, William’s eyes regarded her with possessive intent. Make that possessive, lustful intent.
Maybe not in the old town, but there were going to be hot times tonight.
All kidding aside, Lia did want a man to look at her with that same fierce longing—man being the operative word. Lia had seen plenty of grooms since she’d begun working here and knew she wanted a mature adult man who understood the give-and-take involved in marriage and was willing to make the commitment.
William was so willing. She sighed a little as he placed his hand in the small of Elizabeth’s back and guided her out the front door. Just before the glass closed, he glanced back at Lia and the corner of his mouth lifted.
She gave him a thumbs-up. Not her place, but she didn’t care.
2
SMILING TO HERSELF, Lia locked the door and watched until they drove out of sight.
She flipped off the showroom lights and headed to the office, already calculating the cost of the lace jacket once she applied her employee discount.
After inputting the order on her unit, she verified that all the associates had downloaded their orders and then cross-checked with their appointments for the day.
Everything looked just as it should. Lia cleared out the individual ordering units and plugged them in to recharge.
In another hour or so, she’d be able to do a live chat with Zhin, her Chinese counterpart at the manufacturing plant. With the Brantley wedding, she wanted to make certain the entire order was put through together so the dye lots would match.
She went to the kitchen at the back of the salon for a cup of coffee, but changed her mind when she saw the open bottle of champagne.
“We shouldn’t serve our clients flat sparkling wine, now, should we?” Lia poured it into her coffee cup and returned to the office to wait until Zhin had arrived at work for the day.
It was funny that Elizabeth insisted on the finest of everything except champagne. Then again, an excellent sparkling wine beat cheap champagne any day. Except, this wasn’t exactly an excellent sparkling wine. Either Elizabeth needed to upgrade or Lia shouldn’t be drinking champagne out of a coffee cup. Probably both.
Lia idly searched Google for sparkling-wine ratings, and then Asti Spumante and Prosecco, the sweet Italian sparkling wines. Actually, she liked the idea of serving those. It seemed a hipper side of classy. And maybe they should invest in a cappuccino machine. Shopping for bridal and attendant gowns was an exhausting business emotionally and physically. Those beaded dresses could get heavy, and struggling into various girdlelike contraptions to support them gave a girl a workout. Elizabeth didn’t provide cookies and tea sandwiches just to be nice, she served them to keep customers from leaving the store and maybe deciding to go elsewhere to shop after having lunch or dinner.
And speaking of…
After a few more sips of champagne, Lia went in search of the shortbread cookies Elizabeth kept on hand.
She heard rustling when she opened the cabinet in the kitchen. Rustling in a place where food was stored was never good. Lia closed the door and kicked it, hoping to scare away whatever she’d heard.
She didn’t hear further sounds or find evidence that anything had been raiding the cookies when she looked inside. Okay, then.
Lia grabbed a box of shortbreads shaped like wedding bells and munched as she checked out Clive Hamilton’s Web site. Any designer who knew a woman’s body the way he did might have other outfits she’d like to order.
Hmm. The cookies were good and her cup was empty and Lia was thirsty. Virtuously, she drank a glass of water before filling her cup with more champagne. Leaning back in her chair, she propped her feet on the desk and the computer in her lap. That’s why they called it a laptop, right?
Opening the chat interface, she typed, Zhin, are you there?
Several moments went by. “Late? Ooh, Zhin, you lazy thing. Big night last night?” she murmured aloud.
Elizabeth was impressed with Lia’s willingness to work overtime, but the truth was that over the months, she and Zhin had become friends and Lia enjoyed “chatting” with her. Maybe someday they’d even meet.
“Zhiiiiiiiin. Where are you?” Lia spoke to herself as she typed. “Big order. Mucho importante. Major buckos. Lots o’ pink.”
Lia snickered to herself. Zhin prided herself on her English and would incorporate any new word she heard, slang or not. Sometimes those incorporations made Lia laugh until she sobbed and then her typing deteriorated, which tipped Zhin off that she’d been set up. Zhin took her revenge in subtle ways. Like only being available to chat at 2:00 a.m. or something equally hideous.
Hey you, Zhin typed. You’re losing your touch.
Nice use of idiom, Lia noted.
So you’ve got an expensive, big-deal wedding to dress? Zhin typed.
Exactly, Lia typed back. So can we discuss it now and not in six hours? She added a smile emoticon.
Exactly. Gimme the deets. Zhin was getting really good with American English.
Twelve shades of pink from light to dark.
Twelve? They’re making a killing.
But Zhin wasn’t perfect yet. Lia stared at the screen and then got it. You mean “overkill.” Making a killing means making a lot of profit or acquiring much stuff. Didn’t it?
You not going to profit?
Yes, but…
Lia stopped typing and reached sideways for her dictionary of slang and idiom. Much better to use a paperback than to get caught looking it up on the Internet. Zhin’s computer was networked to hers and once, instead of downloading orders, Zhin had downloaded the slang dictionary Web site Lia had opened. Mucho loss of face for Lia.
Her fingers were pulling the book from the shelf when she heard rustling again. In Texas, rustling like that usually meant giant roaches—enormous flying things that lived in pine trees, unless they found their way inside classy bridal salons.
She thumped the shelf with the book and the noise stopped. But only because it changed to a flap. Flapping sounds were much better than rustling sounds, bugwise. Flaps were more likely made by the cleaning crew next door than flying cockroaches.
Her computer chimed the first part of “Shave and a Haircut,” signaling that Zhin was logging in to the order section.
Hang on, Lia typed. I want to talk pinks first and verify that the order numbers match the shades we really want before you download the order.
Okeydoke.
These are the twelve pinks. Lia cut and pasted from the order and sent it to Zhin.
Please arrange in order from lightest
