Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)

“That makes me sad,” Maeve admitted. “Paper Moon should stay in the family. But you have your dreams and I have no interest in running it.”


“I know what you mean,” Isabel told her. “I feel badly about it, too. Sometimes I wonder if I could stay, but I don’t want to deal with crazy brides all day. I want to do more. And I have my business partner.”

“That’s right. Sonia. Let me guess. She’s one of those East Coast people who assumes the continent simply ends when you hit the Mississippi.”

“Pretty much.”

Conversation shifted to how Leonard’s business was doing and then talk about the kids. Brandon came back downstairs with two toys and one of his books that he read to both of them. Two hours flew by. When Isabel realized the time, she stood.

“I’ve left Madeline alone for too long. She gets nervous if there are too many things going on.”

“Does she like the work?” Maeve asked, struggling to her feet.

“A lot and she’s good at it. I’m hoping whoever we sell to will keep her on.”

The sisters hugged.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come by sooner,” Isabel said. “I won’t wait so long next time.”

“I’d like that,” her sister told her. “You could be wild and come on a Saturday morning when everyone’s home. It’s loud then, but it’s fun.”

“I will,” Isabel promised.

“Good. Because you’re always welcome here, sis. I want you to know that.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“I’D LIKE TO SPEAK to you about a dress.”

Isabel glanced up at the woman who had just walked into Paper Moon and wanted to ask what was wrong with this picture. The potential customer was tall and elegantly dressed in a dark gray tailored suit. Long black hair hung straight down her back. Her eyes were a nearly violet color of blue, and she had on killer red pumps with at least four-inch heels. She looked capable of ruling the world and still having time left over to organize international banking. She exuded confidence and determination. If Isabel had to guess an age, she would say close to mid-thirties. And while she was familiar, Isabel didn’t know where she’d seen her before.

“A wedding gown?” Isabel asked.

The woman shuddered. “God, no. I meant the purple dress in the window. It’s gorgeous. I want to buy it.”

Isabel grinned. “You might want to try it on first.”

“Right. I always get hung up on the details. Let’s start there.”

“Sure.” Isabel walked through the store and opened the door to the display window. “You said the purple one?”

“Uh-huh.”

Rather than wrestle the mannequin out of the window, she undid the zipper and pulled off the dress. She stepped back into the store.

“Here you go. There are dressing rooms through this way.” Isabel paused. “I feel like we’ve met, but I can’t place your name.”

“Taryn Crawford.” The woman held out her hand. “I’m moving here to town, I’m sad to say.”

“You don’t want to move to Fool’s Gold?”

“No. It’s small. I like the big city. Los Angeles is more my speed. I like the fact that everyone is shallow. It’s refreshing. There’s no pretense of empathy. You know what you’re getting. From what I can tell, Fool’s Gold is one giant beating heart of caring. All those festivals. People talk to me while I’m waiting in line for coffee.” She shuddered. “Happy families everywhere. It’s not natural.”

Isabel laughed. “You’re not big on families?”

“Not for me. Families are a wonderful thing for other people. I like children...mostly from a distance.” She sighed. “This all makes me sound horrible and I’m not. I’m very nice. Not as nice as the people in this town, though.”

Isabel opened a dressing room door, then stepped back to let Taryn enter. The woman thanked her, then closed the door.

What an interesting person, Isabel thought. Talk about honest to a fault.

A minute or so later, Taryn walked out in the purple dress.

It was fitted, with long sleeves and a conservative hemline. But in the back, a deep, teardrop-shaped cutout turned ordinary into sexy.

Taryn stepped up onto the low platform in front of the mirrors and studied herself.

“The dress is really well made,” she said. “You’re not charging enough. The quality workmanship is only exceeded by the fabric. This is excellent. I love the fit.”

“It looks great,” Isabel said, trying not to feel bitter that the other woman was about two inches taller than her and yet a good five sizes smaller. Isabel had never minded being curvy, but every now and then she wondered if she should cut back on the cookies, or maybe go to the gym.

Without having much of a plan, Isabel walked to the accessory armoire and started opening doors and drawers. She discarded three belts before finding the right one. She also had a scarf, she thought, digging through piles of discarded props for various weddings.