Always The Wedding Planner, Never The Bride Part 36

"It's a good way to clear your head!" Emma called out after her.

She groaned as she crossed the lobby and pa.s.sed the front desk.

"Ms. Caine?"

"Hi, William," she said, waving as she continued on her way.

"Ms. Caine, you've received several large deliveries. I sent them up to your office."

Oh, it figures I'd find both lost wedding dresses TODAY.

"Thank you, William."

Sherilyn leaned on the railing and gazed through the gla.s.s, watching the courtyard move farther and farther away until the elevator stopped at the fourth floor.

With her hand poised on the k.n.o.b of the door to her office, she heaved in a deep breath and released it slowly before turning it. The door thudded against something as she tried to open it, and she squeezed through to find three enormous s.h.i.+pping boxes lined up in front of her desk, one of them almost as tall as Sherilyn.

"What in the world?"

She fumbled with the smallest one, about three and a half feet tall and just as wide, until she saw a s.h.i.+pping label. Next to it, a thick black Sharpie pen had obviously been used to scribble a note right on the outside of the box.

Hang on to these for me, Red. I'll be back on the 21st. RW "Ah, Russell!" she groaned, pus.h.i.+ng the boxes to the side so that she could make it around her desk to the chair. "This is just great."

Sherilyn opened her laptop and flipped it on. Andy's smiling face came up behind her desktop, and she felt a little tug at her heart.

"h.e.l.lo?"

Oh, good. A distraction.

A lovely blonde who looked very much like a Cover Girl advertis.e.m.e.nt pushed her way past the boxes and stood at the corner of Sherilyn's desk. Her silky hair bounced as she asked, "Are you Sherilyn Caine?"

"Yes," she replied. "Sorry for the disaster area."

"I would venture a guess that it's from Russell and J.R.?" she suggested.

"Yes! You know them?"

"J.R. is my fiance's brother, and he's been the unwilling recipient of the spoils of their travels in the past. And since they're out on the road right now, and I was sent to you via the two of them . . ."

"Brilliant deductive reasoning, my dear Watson," Sherilyn teased as she stood up and offered her hand.

"I'm Carly Madison," she said with a grin as she shook it. "Russell said I might like to talk to you about the possibility of having a wedding here at the hotel, if . . ." she paused, glancing at the boxes. "Well, if you can fit me in."

Sherilyn chuckled. "I think I'd stand a better chance of that if we moved downstairs." She closed her laptop and loaded it under one arm, leading Carly safely past the obstacle course and into the hall. "Why don't we go down and have some coffee? We can talk about it there."

Once they'd boarded the elevator, Carly leaned against the wall and smiled. "J.R. and his brother Devon have an agreement.

When J.R. is traveling with Russell Walker, he calls Devon every couple of days to let him know where they are and where they're headed. When he called on Friday, Devon told him that he'd proposed to me. That's when J.R. mentioned this place."

"Do you live here in Atlanta?"

"Out near Stone Mountain," she answered. "But I've read about the owner of the hotel, and how he converted it as a wedding destination. I have to admit, it's just as charming as I'd hoped it would be."

Sherilyn stopped at the front desk. "William, would you please have those boxes removed from my office? I can't function in there. Is there somewhere we can store them for a week or so?"

"I'll look into it and find a place, Ms. Caine."

After a quick stop in Emma's kitchen for a couple cups of coffee, Sherilyn and Carly settled into a corner table at the restaurant.

"So why don't we start with you telling me what you have in mind."

Carly produced a file folder from her large bag and plucked a sketch from inside it. "This is my dress!" she exclaimed, pus.h.i.+ng the paper toward her.

The colored pencil sketch had a professional quality to it, and Sherilyn's eye darted immediately to the signature at the lower right corner of the page.

"Audrey Regan?" she clarified. "You're getting married in an Audrey Regan?"

Carly nodded with excitement. "She's my best friend."

"Really!"

"Isn't it amazing?"

Sherilyn scanned the page. Miles of floating ruffles, a ruched bodice, a ten- or twelve-foot train of chiffon and bling. "This is spectacular."

"She's just gifted," Carly stated as she took the sketch back and gazed lovingly at it. "She took everything in my head and poured it into this dress. I can't wait to wear it."

"I don't blame you."

Sherilyn felt that way about Vanessa's dress, and she wondered if she would actually have the chance.

"We've limited our guest list to about a hundred," she told her. "We'd rather spend the money on making it spectacular than on including everyone we've ever met, you know?"

"We have a couple of different venues that might work for you. What's your date?"

"Next spring. We're open on the date. Maybe late April or early May."

Sherilyn popped open the laptop and booted it. "Do you have a theme in mind?"

"I do. I want it to be a fairy tale. We'll arrive in a gla.s.s carriage, and I want rose petals everywhere, in all the colors of spring . . ."

Two hours later, they'd nailed down the date, the room, the colors, the flowers, the music, and the menu. Ten minutes after that, Sherilyn declared herself officially jealous.

Petta Preheat oven to 375 degrees Crust: 2 cups all-purpose flour 2 sticks b.u.t.ter 1 tablespoon sugar 3 egg yolks 3 to 5 drops yellow food coloring Mix flour, b.u.t.ter, and sugar together to form dough.

Add egg yolks, then beat with a fork or whisk. Add in food coloring and mix

until well blended.

Divide dough in half.

Sprinkle each half with flour and roll out on waxed paper to fit a 13"x9"x2" pan.

Place the first crust in the bottom of pan.

Save second crust for topping.

Filling: 6 egg yolks 1 cups sugar 1 teaspoon baking powder 1 cups ground nuts (walnuts and pecans work best) 1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon cocoa 6 egg whites Beat egg yolks, sugar, and baking powder until light.

Fold in nuts and cocoa.

Beat egg whites until stiff and add to yolk mixture.

Pour over bottom crust.

Carefully place second crust on top.

p.r.i.c.k the top with a fork.

Bake for 35 minutes.

When cool, make diagonal cuts to create diamond-shaped cookies.

21.

Andy glanced at the clock the moment the doorbell rang.

7:10 p.m.

Sherilyn had left the house just before 6:30 that morning. They hadn't gone thirteen hours without talking since the day they met. He padded toward the door, hoping to see her face when he opened it. Disappointment mingled with curiosity when he found Cris Padilla standing there instead.

"Hey, Andy."

"Hi, Cris."

"Can I come in?"

After a quick debate with himself, he nodded and tugged the door all the way open.

"Can I get you something?" he offered half-heartedly, and he was relieved when Cris declined.

"I was hoping Sherilyn would be with you."

He didn't know whether to laugh or clench his fist. "No," he said. "Have a seat."

Cris took one of the chairs. Andy plunked down on the couch, wondering whether Cris recognized it as Sherilyn's. How many more of her things had he known before Andy ever entered the picture?

"I had no idea when we met that you and Sherilyn . . . even knew one another," he said, and he ran a hand through his s.h.i.+ny dark hair. "I was as surprised as she was yesterday."

Andy didn't know what to say.

"Miguel mentioned to me this morning that she's been pretty tied up in knots about what happened between us . . ."

"Did he?"

". . . and I just thought I should speak to her and try to sort some things out."

Andy traced the seam on the arm of the couch. "Well, Sherilyn isn't here, Cris. She doesn't live here, won't until after we're married." He swallowed the bitter taste of the words, hoping they would still make their way to marriage.

"Might I ask how I can reach her?" he asked. "If it's all right with you."

Andy looked the guy straight in the eye, and he was a little astonished at the sincerity coming across from him. Cris actually looked apologetic. Truth told, he had nothing much to apologize for beyond wandering into the wrong guy's house on a random Sunday afternoon.

"She works with Jackson," he told him. "At The Tanglewood. You can call her there."

"Really. Small world, isn't it?"

Too small.

Cris didn't move for several seconds, apparently waiting for something, but Andy had no idea what. When he finally stood up, he rested a hand on his hip and sighed.

"I'm really sorry about all of this," he said.

"It's just strange timing," Andy told him. "And, uh . . . I'm sorry about what happened between you and Sherilyn. I know she feels terrible about it."

"Thank you." For a moment, Andy thought he would walk away, but he just stood there. Finally, "Is she happy?"

Andy didn't know why he resented him for asking. "You'll have to ask her that question." Cris nodded and turned to leave. "What about you?" Andy asked him before he reached the hallway. "Are you doing all right?"

"It took a long time," he replied. "But yeah. Thanks for letting me in, Andy."

This time, Andy nodded. He stood frozen until after the front door closed.

Noodle dishes, smoked meats, and various Mediterranean comfort foods; not exactly Sherilyn's cup of c. orba. But when Pearl cleared the remnants of the meal from the table and Fee replaced the dishes with a platter of petta cookies flanked by one bearing some sort of candied pears stuffed with walnuts and pecans, she may as well have heard her name shouted from the center of the table.