camera lighting. “Now that I have a handful of options, I’ll record the vlog post ‘discovering’ each of the dresses. I’ll discuss why they work for my body type and complexion. I’ll also show a few of the dresses that didn’t work for me, including an honest assessment of why they didn’t. Then I’ll try on all of the final contenders before selecting ‘the one.’”
“Did I overstep?” Frankie had asked to come along and help. She stooped to take the next lighting fixture out of its storage case to set it up.
“No, of course not. You’re just a little too good at this friendship thing, I guess.” Annabel gave a nervous laugh. She studied Frankie for a moment, then cleared her throat. “Hey, if I told you something, could you keep it just between us for now? Even from my brother?”
Frankie seemed to roll the request over in her head. “It’s nothing dangerous or life-threatening, right? Nothing he needs to know?”
“No, nothing like that.”
A slow smile lit Frankie’s green eyes. She squeezed Annabel’s arm. “Then, of course.”
“Actually, maybe it would be better if I showed you after we’re done here.” Annabel sighed, hoping that this reveal would go better than the last.
* * *
Butterflies flitted in Annabel’s stomach as she opened the rusty lock and led Frankie through the doors of a small older building that had once been a celebrated hair salon.
Her favorite pair of old, worn black-and-brown cowboy boots clopped against the tile floor as they walked inside. The stale air and lingering pungent scent of leftover chemicals assaulted their senses. Dust swirled in the sunlight peeking through the dirty front windows.
“We’re standing in the heart of what will become Fairy Godmother.” Annabel ran her fingers through her hair, fashioned in microbraids. The hair nearest her scalp was braided, while the majority of its length fell in loose waves down her back. “I purchased the connected building next door, too. That’s where the vintage clothing store will be. But clients can get complete makeovers here. I’m talking hair, skin, makeup and nails. All available as a paid service, which will allow me to do more Fairy Godmother makeovers for deserving women trying to reenter the workplace.”
“What a fantastic idea, Annabel.” Frankie beamed. “And this place is incredible. I adore lovely old buildings like this. When was it built?”
“It was completed in 1934. Thus the art deco style.” Annabel indicated the geometric wallpaper design and the beautiful terrazzo flooring with its intricate geometric pattern.
“This place will be absolutely stunning once you’ve renovated it. Then maybe accent it with some vintage pieces that would go well with the era of the architecture,” Frankie went on excitedly.
Her friend had barely been able to tame her enthusiasm from the moment they walked through the door. Frankie’s reaction was the exact opposite of Mason’s when she’d shown the old building to him and revealed her plans for it.
“That’s what I was thinking, too.” Annabel pointed to the space up front. “I’d love to get some comfy banquette seating built beneath the window and then along that wall.”
After they explored the shop, Annabel showed her friend the building next door and shared her plans for it before the late-summer sun went down.
Frankie hugged her. “I’m so happy for you, Annabel. This was your dream and you’re making it happen. What did Mason say?”
The joy and excitement Annabel had felt as she shared her plans with Frankie quickly faded. Mason’s scowl and utter disappointment filled her brain. A ball tightened in her stomach.
Mason Harrison worked for her father. He was an executive at Currin Oil, where he’d been quickly ascending the corporate ladder. They’d been engaged for nearly a year and their wedding date was only a couple months away. But he’d been angry and dismissive when she told him of her plans.
“I brought him here after we had lunch together the other day. He accused me of behaving like an impetuous little girl by buying this place without consulting him or my father.”
“I’m sure he was just surprised.” Frankie tried to sound reassuring. “He’ll come around.”
“No. He won’t,” Annabel admitted, her throat tightening. “He wants me to settle down and be a ‘proper’ society wife. And he expects me to give up my ‘little blog’ once we’re married.”
“Little blog? You have hundreds of thousands of followers and dozens of top tier sponsors.” Frankie folded her arms, indignant on her behalf. “You love what you do, and you’re making a really good living at it. Why would Mason expect you to give it up?”
“He doesn’t consider what I do a career, and he doesn’t want his wife working in some ‘run-down shack.’ Evidently, being an entrepreneur isn’t suitable for a ‘proper society wife.’” She used air quotes again. “Mason gave me an ultimatum. I wouldn’t budge.” Annabel shrugged. “So he broke off our engagement.”
“I’m sorry, Annabel. I didn’t realize how serious the argument was.” Frankie squeezed her arm. “Maybe Mason just needs to get used to the idea. And you’re still wearing his ring, so I bet you two will resolve this before the gala this weekend.”
“No.” Annabel’s unyielding tone seemed to surprise her friend. “Mason is looking for a trophy wife who’ll be content hosting cocktail parties and attending charity functions just to make him look good. I feel incredibly stupid that I didn’t recognize that before now.” She twisted the ring on her finger, suddenly self-conscious about it.
Why was she still wearing Mason’s engagement ring when it was clearly over between them?
Maybe some small part of her held out hope that they’d reconcile. But in talking to her friend, she realized something she hadn’t wanted to admit before. Mason Harrison wasn’t the man for her. She’d take the ring off once she’d told her father that the engagement was over. But she just hadn’t been ready to do that.
“My father says he won’t be able to attend the gala. Currin Oil is a platinum sponsor, so I need to be there to represent our family and the company.” Annabel sighed. “Besides, this event is important to me. We lost my mom to cancer, so I’ll do whatever I can to support this cause.”
“I wish Xander and I didn’t have plans that night. I hate to think of you there all alone.” Frankie frowned.
“I’ll be fine. Promise.” Annabel forced a smile for the sake of her friend.
“Usually, I’d offer a platitude like time heals all wounds, but I don’t think that’s what you want to hear right now.” Frankie wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “So let’s focus on the fact that you’ve taken the first step to fulfilling your dream. That calls for a celebration. And pie.”
Annabel grinned. “You had me at pie.”
Roarke Perry exited his rental SUV and stepped inside Farrah’s Coffee Shop. He smiled fondly as he inhaled the
