She shook the thought off and headed up the winding path to the covered verandah that served as bar, restaurant, and nightclub, depending on the time of day. At the moment, one of its tables was serving as the workspace for the resort’s wedding planner, who sat alone in the space with three-ring binders all around her, a computer tablet in hand.
Ava waited for her to finish making a note and tried not to let anxiety overcome her.
Before Kristin and Seth had decided to elope to Antigua, their wedding had been the event of the season—such as the season was in a dusty little town like Necessity, Texas.
“But that,” Seth said when Ava teased him about it, “is the price you pay if marry into the Rittman family.” His adoring glance at his fiancée took any sting out of the words.
Then Kristin’s uncle, Duke Rittman, had been arrested for attempted murder after he sabotaged a gas well tank on his land so it exploded when the petroleum company owner was present. The scandal had turned Necessity society (again, such as it was) upside down.
Kristin had gone from being the belle of the town to being a pariah, almost overnight. Most of her friends had deserted her. And she and Seth had decided to cancel the big wedding at the First Baptist Church of Necessity and run away to the West Indies to get married.
So here I am, the last bridesmaid standing.
Finally, the wedding coordinator finished what she was doing and glanced up, her dark eyes assessing Ava swiftly. “Ah, hello. You must be”—she checked the paperwork in front of her—“Ava, with the Rittman wedding?”
Her voice was clear and cultured, almost British-sounding, with the soft lilt of the island Creole underscoring it.
“Yes. I’m Ava Jordan.” To her own ears, Ava sounded too harsh. Too country, too twangy—too Texas.
“Rose Caba.” The coordinator half-stood to shake Ava’s hand, then waved her to a seat at the same table. “I assume Kristin has told you about the problem with the dresses?”
Ava’s stomach clenched. “No,” she said slowly. “I haven’t actually seen Kristin since I got here last night.”
“Ah. Well. The bride’s dress arrived just fine. Kristin had it in a dress bag on the plane with her.”
Ava took a breath. It could be worse.
“Your dress, on the other hand, was apparently lost in transit.”
But not much worse.
“You mean I’m going to have to find another dress?” Ava’s voice came out in a strangled whisper.
Finding the perfect bridesmaid’s dress for this wedding had been a nightmare. Ava had assumed, when Kristin had invited her to go dress shopping, that they would find something simple and beach-wedding appropriate and be done.
No such luck.
It was as if, having had the wedding of her former dreams cancelled, Kristin had focused all her bridezilla tendencies on finding the perfect bridesmaid’s dress for Ava.
Rose’s dark, perfectly manicured eyebrows drew down into a frown. “I assure you, St. John’s has a number of lovely bridal shops. I work with several of them on a regular basis.”
“I’m sure,” Ava said faintly.
“Or I could arrange to have a selection of dresses brought here.”
Ava couldn’t decide which sounded worse—spending her vacation days trudging all over the island with Kristin, going from bridal shop to bridal shop in search of the perfect dress, again, or being trapped in the hotel with Kristin as a series of imperfect dresses were paraded past them.
“I guess…” She hesitated. “I guess we should ask Kristin what she wants us to do.” Merely saying the words hurt. No matter what Kristin chose, it was going to be an awful experience.
“I think you and Grant should go pick something out.” Kristin spoke from behind her, and Ava spun around, startled.
Dress shopping with Grant? That was a type of awful she hadn’t expected.
As usual, Ava’s future sister-in-law looked perfect. She wore her long, blonde hair slicked back into a high ponytail that swung halfway down her back. On Ava, a ponytail like that would look adolescent.
On Kristin, it looked elegant, swinging around her like something out of a shampoo commercial as she turned to glance back at Seth and Grant, who trailed behind her. “Don’t you agree?” she asked her fiancé. “That way, Grant can get a matching tie. And we can go pick up the wedding license in St. John’s. We can make an afternoon of it.”
So much for an afternoon on the beach. I knew that countdown was to the end of my freedom during this trip.
She swept Ava up into a hug, enveloping her in a cloud of coconut-scented fragrance.
Island appropriate. Of course.
Ava suddenly became aware of her own chemical aroma of sunscreen.
With a slight eau de sweat.
Nope. Neiman Marcus would never carry that perfume.
“I’m so glad you’re here to deal with these things,” Kristin said. “You know what I like by now. You will take care of it, won’t you?” Without actually waiting for an answer, Kristin dove in for a hug from Rose. “I just saw the gazebo. It’s perfect, absolutely amazing.”
Ava glanced at her brother, hoping he might jump in and rescue her, but Seth was watching Kristin, a besotted grin on his face.