Hearts & Haunts, Confessions of a Closet Medium, Book 3 Page 2

  Rosie has wandered off to inspect the other vendors and chat with them. Since we offer a full package service, we like to be on friendly terms with area bakeries, florists, dance instructors, vacation planners, photographers, and anyone else associated with weddings. Mama has hailed a friend and is gossiping near the open French doors, laughing and waving at others as if she’s the hostess.

  I back into the booth and turn away from prying eyes, pretending to fiddle with a plant. “I can’t go ghost hunting right now. Tallulah will have to wait.”

  “Sorry? Were you speaking to me?”

  I whirl to find Victoria standing inside the entrance. “Oh, hi. I didn’t know you were there.” No sense in admitting I’m talking to myself.

  “Your display is cute. Very…down home.” Her voice drops as she says the last word and has a tone to it. She fiddles with the corner of one of the catalogs. “On Saturday, we’re having guest speakers in the conference room for a variety of seminars.”

  Persephone has left. My phone on the table lights up with a text from Logan. I pocket it and stand behind the table. “I saw that on the itinerary. I’m sure many of the brides will attend just for that. It looks like you have a good lineup of experts.”

  “We did. Unfortunately, Karen Melrose had to bow out. She has a sore throat and lost her voice. I’d like you to fill in, perhaps talk about finding the perfect dress.”

  “Me?”

  I start to add, what would I know about that, but stop myself. The businesswoman in me realizes this is an excellent chance to spread the word about my new line. My inner introvert, however, screams no. Standing in front of groups of people to do an impromptu speech is right up there with my worst nightmare. “Surely, you could ask someone else.”

  Victoria gives me a tight smile. “I was hoping to give a local business the first opportunity. Guess I’ll have to offer the slot to one of the bigger venues from Atlanta.”

  Her gaze flicks to the left, and I know she’s talking about Sal.

  The words are out of my mouth before I can call them back. “I’d love to do it.”

  Her smile turns triumphant.

  Around four-thirty, one of my models, Penn Reed, shows up to get ready. With her is her younger sister, Jenn. They ooh and aah over the booth, chat with Rosie and Mama, then Penn pulls me aside. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing my sister. I thought you could use her help.”

  I eye Jenn, mentally sizing up which dress might look good on her frame. She and Rosie laugh over something Rosie says, and I wonder what Jenn looks like under her camouflage pants, motorcycle boots, and the oversize tunic she wears beneath a leather jacket.

  She appears to have an equal amount of piercings as her sister, and I see a tattoo on the side of her neck below her left ear. They’re both unique, and since Rosie’s morning sickness could interfere with how many times I can parade her out, I figure I better take all the assistance I can get. “Actually that’d be great.”

  Penn glances at her sister and lowers her voice. “I was hoping I could ask a favor. Jenn is preggers, and she’s not getting married until June.”

  Penn is nothing if not direct.

  “Okay…” I nod, wondering where this is going.

  “Her fiancé is in the Army and won’t be home beforehand. She’ll be eight months along. Do you think you can design an expandable dress?”

  Mama has busied herself on her phone, leaving the four of us. Rosie and Jenn have quit talking, and I see they’ve overheard. Jenn gives me a sweet, shy smile. “I have my heart set on a white one, and Penn said you’re the best.”

  Rosie and I exchange a look, and at that moment, Gloria hustles up to our booth.

  We greet the seamstress, and she hands Rosie a garment bag that contains my unnamed dress. Introductions are made, and I worry my bottom lip, considering the sisters’ request. From what I know about Penn, the two have had a rough life, and they’ve still managed to stay kind and considerate. I sense Aunt Willa on my right shoulder and swear I hear her whisper, “Do it, Ava. You won’t be sorry.”

  My mind is already at work on how to make it. My gaze trails to the swooping fabric we created our booth out of, and an idea strikes. “If nothing else, I’ll wrap you in a silk toga and make you a goddess for the day.”

  Jenn claps her hands and squeals, bouncing on her toes. Penn smiles at me with deep appreciation. They leave to visit the other booths before going backstage to get ready, and Rosie shakes her head. “You’re such a pushover.”

  I shrug, Gloria laughs, then I spot an orange tail disappearing under the cloth of the table.

  “Is that your cat?” Gloria asks.

  I peel up the edge to find Tabby starring back at me. She meows, and I briefly consider wringing her neck. “What are you doing here?”

  The cat doesn’t respond with any more than a blink of her eyes. I haul her out and lift her in my arms. Good Lord, she’s getting fat. “She must have hitchhiked in the van.”

  Rosie makes a face and skedaddles for the door, another round of sickness hitting her. Hers lasts all day.

  Gloria scratches Tabby under her chin and watches Rosie’s fleeing back. “Do you think it wise to put her in a gown and send her out on stage?”

  “I don’t have a lot of choice at this point. Each designer is supposed to display five. I only have three models at the moment, unless I don one myself.”

  “That would be exciting.”

  Not exactly the term I’d use for it. “I need to stay backstage to make sure it all goes smoothly.”

  “I can stay. Perhaps do their hair and assist them getting in and out of the creations.”

  A male ghost appears over her shoulder suddenly and startles me. Tabby hisses and Gloria retrieves her hand, afraid of the cat.

  Instantaneously, he vanishes, like one of the random ghosts floating around the ballroom. They continue to flicker in and out due to a lack of energy, and I know the hotel has a long history of being haunted.

  Persephone warned me at Christmas that Gloria has a ghost problem. He may be the one.

  Tabby leaps from my hold and scrambles away. I hear a baby’s laugh echo in the booth, and I spin to look, but there’s no one there—human or ghost.

  The next few days are going to be interesting. I smile at Gloria. “I’m pretty sure I can use all the help I can get.”

  3

  Just before seven, Logan Cross III, leans over to kiss my cheek. “Break a leg,” he says.

  I smooth a lock of his sandy blond hair off his forehead. “Thanks. I’m nervous.”

  Tabby hops on a nearby table where Penn and Jenn are putting their hair up in front of a large, rectangular mirror, with Gloria’s assistance. A few of the Southern Bride crew, as well as models from two other wedding vendors, are applying makeup and donning accessories. Rosie is in our assigned fitting room, and she’ll be the first to walk out in one of my designs.

  “You have nothing to be nervous about.” Logan squeezes my hands. The diamond tennis bracelet he gave me at Christmas reflects the overhead lights and reminds me how much he loves me. “You’re gonna knock ’em dead.”

  He winks, and I make a face. He knows I can see ghosts, and although it makes him uncomfortable, that doesn’t stop him from taking every chance he can to tease me about it.

  I peek out the side curtain and notice there are as many ghosts milling around as there are real people.

  I wish I could disappear into his pretty blue eyes at the moment and forget those in physical form as well as in spirit. “There are enough deceased here already,” I tell him. “They don’t need me adding to the population.”

  Sal and his assistant are busy accessorizing one of their models. Baldwin and Victoria are on stage, requesting that the crowd take their seats. I estimate close to two hundred, and it’s standing room only.

  Which only makes my nervous stomach flip-flop like a dying fish on land.

  Gloria hustles past, winking at me and saying hello to Logan. “It’s almos
t time!”

  Logan gives me another squeeze and departs. In his wake, Darinda, the executive manager of Southern Bride, strides in. We haven’t seen each other in months, but her eyes light up, and she hugs me. “Ava, so good to see you. I hear you’re doing well.”

  She’s a striking brunette with chocolate brown eyes. In her heels, she’s at least six inches taller than me.

  The crowd out front has settled, and it’s not hard to hear Sal snicker at the compliment. I’m growing tired of his attitude, but I keep my gracious face on and thank my former mentor. “It’s hard for me to believe I’ve come this far in such a short time.”

  She winks. “Following your dreams can do that for you.”

  Patting my arm, she wishes me luck as she goes to help Sal. Rosie exits the dressing room, her expression worried. She rushes over. “We have a problem.”

  Her hair is swept up on one side with a pearl and rhinestone comb. Her eyes are professionally done, and she looks quite the femme fatale.

  “Are you too sick?”

  She shakes her head. “It’s not me.” She shifts to show me the underside of the satin below her left breast. “There’s dirt on the material.”

  Automatically, I attempt to brush it off. The gowns were stored individually in their garment bags and haven’t been out of them since we had them cleaned for the show. “How did that happen?”

  “No idea. There’s something else.”

  Penn and Jenn have risen from the makeup table and joined us. They each try their hand at wiping the stain from the dress, but it does no good. It appears as though someone deliberately rubbed it into the white fabric.

  I check the rest of the dress, but don’t see any other damage. “What?”

  Rosie glances around the area. “The shoes. I can’t find any of the boxes.”

  We were instructed to set up earlier, and did so, leaving the dresses, shoes, and accessories back here in our appointed spots. “Are you kidding? Someone stole them?”

  Sal moseys over at that moment, finger and thumb on his chin as he eyes Rosie’s dress. “Something wrong?”

  I lower my voice and indicate the stain. “Did you have something to do with this?”

  His fake surprise suggests that he did, but of course, he denies it. “You think I’d bother to sabotage your amateurish line?”

  Darinda is lining up their models in a staggered fashion. “Christine get over here.”

  Music kicks off with a modern pop beat, and the lights beyond the stage dim. One of the other wedding gown reps begins arguing with her over who’s going first.

  I see a look enter my former boss’s eyes that’s familiar. She places hands on her hips and gets in the woman’s face, causing the gal to step back. At that moment, Victoria intervenes and tells Darinda she’ll be last.

  Darinda argues as the other vendor motions at her models to line up. I canvass the area, looking for the shoes.

  “I don’t put anything past you,” I mutter just loud enough for Sal to hear.

  Victoria wins the battle with Darinda then steps over to us. “What’s wrong?”

  Sal rolls his eyes and strides back to the woman he was dressing. “You shouldn’t invite amateurs to a professional gig like this,” he tosses over his shoulder at her.

  Infuriated, I’m more determined than ever to show off my gowns. I give Victoria a big smile. “Everything is perfect.”

  Two tiny creases appear in her forehead as her brows bunch together. She glances at Sal, nods, and returns to her podium on stage. She and Baldwin take turns announcing the models and the names of the dresses.

  “What are we going to do?” Rosie asks, panic in her voice.

  Tabby yawns and begins cleaning a paw. I grab her and hand her to Rosie. Both cat and assistant stare at me with startled expressions. “Your new accessory,” I say. “She’s covering the spot.”

  As Penn and Jenn check out the fact that the feline is indeed hiding the stain, I point a finger in Tabby’s face. “Cooperate or else.”

  Rosie is still panicked. “What about the shoes?”

  All the gowns are floor-length and no one will see them anyway. “You’re going barefoot.”

  Once the first vendor is winding down, I put the finishing touches on Penn and Jenn, then line them up with Rosie. I plan to send her out first, then the sisters while she’s changing into the next dress that’s waiting for her in the fitting room.

  As the three stand in position, the lights and music echoing through the ballroom and backstage, the sisters take turns making over Tabby. My ancestor—who lives in the shape-shifting form of a cat—eats it up.

  When Victoria announces the Enchanted wedding gown line, featuring Rosie and a dress I’ve named the ‘Ella’ since it is reminiscent of a fairytale, I hold my breath. This is it…the moment I’ve been waiting for.

  I hear the crowd react. “Look at the cat!”

  “Why does she have that?”

  “Isn’t he adorable?”

  Persephone appears next to my elbow. “Better get out there and salvage this before it goes downhill. Tabitha will shapeshift into her human form and knock out whoever called her a boy. If that happens, you’ll sink like the Titanic.”

  My guardian angel is often unreliable and unhelpful, but my intuition agrees. However, that would mean going on stage in front of the huge crowd.

  “You sent that cat out there?” Sal sneers. “How absolutely unprofessional. A new low, even for you.”

  “Stuff it, Sal.” Stepping out from behind the curtain, I take the mike from Victoria as Rosie sashays down the fifteen-foot runway, the lights at her feet flashing and throbbing with the rhythm of the music.

  “It’s your big day,” I speak into the mike. The speakers squeal and I adjust the space between the mike and my mouth. The crowd’s attention turns to me. “For many of us, it’s all about family, right?”

  No one reacts, not even Mama or Queenie in the audience. Both of them are frowning, confused at the sight of Tabby.

  Undaunted, I continue. “Our pets are part of our family too, aren’t they? We love them just like our kids. Why shouldn’t they be included?”

  A few nod. There’s a smattering of murmurs. I’m not sure if I’m getting my point across or falling flat on my face.

  “It’s your day, and what will make it more special than including your pet in the ceremony, along with wearing an Enchanted gown? Traditional weddings and beautiful ballgowns fulfill our fantasies, but being yourself? That’s priceless. If your dog, cat, or other pet is part of your family, they should be included as well.”

  More approving nods. I see people watching Rosie now, who’s working it as she turns at the end of the stage, showing off the dress from all sides. Tabby cooperates and meows at the audience.

  Light laughter breaks out over the tempo of the music, and everyone smiles or leans over to say something to the person next to them. As Rosie struts back past me, she winks.

  She disappears behind the curtain, and Penn takes her place, striking a pose in the Ariel. As I talk about the design and drop more hints about being yourself, many of the younger gals make notes on their fliers.

  Penn’s tattoos and piercings pick up the overhead lights. When I mention finding a dress that accentuates your uniqueness, she makes sure to do a Vanna White impression, putting her inked forearms on full display as she strikes another pose at the end of the walkway.

  To my surprise, and that of the crowd, Tabby strolls out, her marmalade body strutting like a model.

  Rosie has placed a bling-y collar around her neck, which I recognize as one of our larger stretchy bracelets. People laugh and clap as Penn stops to scratch under her chin and Tabby raises her nose. The cat glances over the crowd acting like a majestic queen surveying her realm.

  As Penn passes me, she winks like Rosie did and has a big smile on her face. I’m relieved, and I mention that we carry a full line of pet wedding accessories as well as bridal ones.

  That’s stretching
it, but I know when to capitalize on an opportunity. First thing tomorrow, I’ll have Rosie order a bunch.

  As Tabby decides she rather enjoys being in the spotlight, Jenn appears. She’s wearing my Snow White gown, which I named Winter. It has puffy half-sleeves, and while I didn’t want to put color on it, the stripes of the classic dress worn by my inspiration are outlined by different materials in the bodice. The elegant train falls gracefully away from Jenn’s slender frame, and in the back of my mind, I think about creating her dress.

  The hint of an idea comes and goes as I talk about living your fairytale. Once again, I focus on the idea that every woman should have an unforgettable wedding that is unique to them.

  Like Tabby, Jenn enjoys the attention, and she sits at the end, hugging Tabby and swinging her bare feet. This brings more applause. A few people snap photos.

  I hope we’re conveying that we are distinctive and special, and not simply amateurs as Sal has been claiming.

  Out in the crowd, Tallulah materializes. She scowls at the people, the runway, and especially me. If looks could kill, I think.

  I hope she waits to take out her anger until after the show.

  She vanishes, and I draw a breath of relief. I scan the ballroom, but don’t see her reappear. Glancing again to the lineup behind the curtain, I see Rosie. I allow Jenn and Tabby to have another moment before I mention all my designs are available to order at the fair and online.

  Jenn gets the hint and finishes her stroll to return, Tabby following on her heels. As they go by, I give the audience members the website link.

  Rosie glides out in the Bellamy, then Penn follows in the fifth, the unnamed. Gloria has made sure to sew and tuck all the seams into perfect placement, and I love the details she’s added to this design.

  As I watch Penn wear my favorite dress down the runway, I again imagine myself walking down the aisle with Logan on our wedding day.

  It’s then that I feel his eyes on me from the audience. He smiles when I catch his, and my world brightens. I love my life, even more so because of him.

  After we’re done, and Darinda and Sal are waiting to send their first model out, I realize that one of the women I saw with Sal isn’t real. She’s a ghost.