Seducing the Best Man

The assistant walked around the dress. “Let me get our seamstress. I’m sure she’ll have some lovely ideas.”

Cady sighed. “Bibi—”

“I want to make Zach’s mom happy.”

“And Zach wants you to be happy.” She paused. Wait, she was supposed to be trying to stop this wedding, not supporting it. What would cause the most friction? Buying a new dress she couldn’t afford? Or seriously altering her new mother-to-be’s wedding dress? She ignored the knot in her stomach.

“It’s really that bad?” Bianca asked.

She stood, circling her friend. “Let’s see what the seamstress says.” She snapped a few pictures on her phone. “In case you want to look at it later.”

The seamstress had some great ideas. But the price for the alterations was almost as much as a new dress.

Cady insisted she try on the other dress, for comparison’s sake. When Bianca emerged from the dressing room, Cady bit her lip. This is what Bibi should wear, from the glittering tiara and veil to the lit-up-from-the-inside blissful smile. A whirlwind of emotions hit hard, leaving Cady speechless. Of all the thoughts and feelings spinning in her head, she held on to doubt. Bianca deserved the real deal, not a barely reformed playboy who would destroy her heart again.

“It’s a beautiful dress,” the assistant prompted. “And it fits perfectly, so no alterations are needed.”

“It is,” Bianca agreed. “But I can’t really afford it.”

“We have a payment plan,” the assistant offered.

“The wedding is in five weeks,” Bianca argued.

“Oh.” The assistant frowned. “I need to check with the seamstress to see if she can get the alterations on the other one done in that amount of time.” She hurried into the back.

Cady snapped a few pictures of Bianca, the difference between the two obvious. But she kept quiet as she helped Bianca change out of the dress, unable to stop herself from checking the price. Cady frowned. As far as wedding dresses went, the dress was a steal. And yet, Bianca couldn’t afford it?

Which made Cady worry. If she and Patton didn’t get to work soon, Bianca would be spending more money she didn’t have to spend. She needed to figure out who was paying for what so that, when this whole mess was over, Bianca wouldn’t be hurting financially as well as emotionally.

While they were ordering her maid-of-honor dress, the assistant assured them that the alterations could be done in time. As long as the seamstress started no later than Tuesday. Bianca shot Cady a look. It made Cady’s stomach hurt to keep her mouth shut, but she managed it.

“One thing down, ninety-nine to go.” Bianca laughed as they climbed into her Jeep. “Thanks for having us over for dinner tonight.”

“You know me, a multitasker. But this is a working dinner, Bibi. I want us to go over Carolina’s list so I know who’s doing what, when things are due and what I can do.” Because she and Patton would need every piece of information to stop this wedding in its tracks.

* * *

PATTON DIDN’T KNOW what he’d expected from Cady’s apartment, but this wasn’t it. It was white, sleek and modern. He’d always thought a home reflected the people that lived there. But Cady wasn’t stark or impersonal. She was warm and expressive, a spectrum of color and emotions. Cady was passion.

He glanced into the kitchen, watching Cady chop vegetables. She was in cutoff shorts and a gauzy top, bare feet flitting around the kitchen. He smiled.

Zach sat at the bar with Bianca, talking about work and travel and honeymoon destinations.

Patton sighed. Trailing his fingers down the keys of the shiny black upright piano that rested against the far wall of the open kitchen-living-room combo they were in.

“Feel free to entertain us,” Zach said.

“There’s music in the drawer.” Cady pointed to the black desk that sat against the window, overlooking the city of Lassiter below. Less than an hour north of Dallas, Lassiter was growing by leaps and bounds each year as more families sought to escape the big city. “Help yourself.”

Patton almost turned her down. But then, he opened the drawer and flipped through the sheet music. Anything that might give him an insight about Cady. “You play?” he asked, pulling out several music books. Film scores. Beatles songs. Pink Floyd. Bach, Beethoven and Chopin.

“I do,” Cady answered.

“She plays piano, guitar and violin,” Bianca answered.

“Viola, not violin,” Cady corrected. “I like the deeper strings.”

Patton closed the drawer and looked at her, cocking an eyebrow. He could imagine her caught up in the music, eyes closed, intent.