we’d better get busy working on that
dress. Your Aunt Catherine’s going to have to turn into your fairy
godmother...” Callie hung up the phone after her mother finally
wound down. She held it in her hand just staring into space until
Bryan finally reached up and took it from her hand.
“What is it babe? You look worried.”
Callie exhaled. “I was just thinking about
Daddy.”
Bryan gave her a wary look. “What about
him?”
“Mama didn’t bring him up so I didn’t either,
but I wonder how he feels about the wedding. He’s probably pretty
upset.”
“I thought that was his beef with me, that
there was no wedding.”
“Amongst other things.”
“So why would he be upset now?”
“I don’t know. It’s just odd that Mama didn’t
mention him the entire conversation. I’m probably just imagining
things. Now, before that call came didn’t you promise me all sorts
of delights?”
“I certainly did, let me deliver.”
***
“So, which one is it going to be Callie? Vera
Wang or Armani?” Naysa pushed the sketches toward Callie across the
insanely cluttered desk. “Armani’s doing the guy’s tuxes, and it’d
be really cool if he did your dress too. Of course, Wang’s sketches
are incredible, but then, they always are.”
Callie raised her eyes from the wreck the
stylist had made of her office. Tucked in the corner of her loft
apartment the office was usually a testament to Callie’s almost
compulsive neatness. Now it looked as though someone had set off a
prêt à porter pipe bomb. Naysa had arrived in Maple Fork less than
an hour ago and swept through the office like a tiny cyclone,
strewing fabric swatches and sketches in her wake. Bryan still had
commitments in New York, so he had sent his “people” to help out
with the wedding plans. Callie had only been back in town for a
week and had been too busy to even think. Despite the arduous trip,
Naysa somehow managed to look as though she’d stepped out of a
magazine. Even her makeup was still immaculate. Her plaid
mini-skirt, combined with of all things, combat boots made her look
like a schoolgirl gone commando. Somehow on her it looked edgy and
trendy, not absurd. Callie shook her head, no wonder people paid
good money to have her dress them. The girl had to be some type of
fashion savant.
“Naysa, I don’t know why Bryan sent you here.
I don’t really need a stylist. I told you my Aunt Catherine is
going to make my dress.”
Naysa couldn’t suppress a shudder. This was
worse than she’d thought. “Callie, I hate to point this out to you,
but you cannot have a rock star wedding in a homemade dress. The
tabloids will eat you alive.” Naysa shook her head firmly, her
perfectly coiffed hair in its China Doll bob shimmered with the
movement before returning obediently to its place.
Callie sighed, studying Naysa’s small frame
from behind her desk. It seemed she was going to be condemned to a
lifetime of being “handled” by tiny women. “Naysa, on the day I was
born, my aunt promised to make my wedding dress. If you really
think I’m going to tell her otherwise, you’ve lost your mind.
Besides, the tabloids have already done their worst, don’t you
think?”
Naysa threw up her hands in defeat. How the
hell could she argue with that? Callie had already been
tabloid fodder. How much worse could Joan and Melissa be? “Fine,
Callie.”
Callie continued in a conciliatory tone, “Let
Armani dress Tonya and my sisters, they’ll be thrilled to death to
wear designer dresses.”
Naysa almost swallowed her tongue. Ask Armani
to dress the bridesmaids but not the bride? What a concept! Then
again, this was shaping up to be the wedding of the year, he might
go along with it. She shuddered again. Homemade and couture dresses
in the same wedding? Naysa mentally cursed Bryan. Friendship be
damned he was paying through the nose for this one. She moved over
to the desk where Callie was busily picking up the detritus of her
arrival. Maybe
dress. Your Aunt Catherine’s going to have to turn into your fairy
godmother...” Callie hung up the phone after her mother finally
wound down. She held it in her hand just staring into space until
Bryan finally reached up and took it from her hand.
“What is it babe? You look worried.”
Callie exhaled. “I was just thinking about
Daddy.”
Bryan gave her a wary look. “What about
him?”
“Mama didn’t bring him up so I didn’t either,
but I wonder how he feels about the wedding. He’s probably pretty
upset.”
“I thought that was his beef with me, that
there was no wedding.”
“Amongst other things.”
“So why would he be upset now?”
“I don’t know. It’s just odd that Mama didn’t
mention him the entire conversation. I’m probably just imagining
things. Now, before that call came didn’t you promise me all sorts
of delights?”
“I certainly did, let me deliver.”
***
“So, which one is it going to be Callie? Vera
Wang or Armani?” Naysa pushed the sketches toward Callie across the
insanely cluttered desk. “Armani’s doing the guy’s tuxes, and it’d
be really cool if he did your dress too. Of course, Wang’s sketches
are incredible, but then, they always are.”
Callie raised her eyes from the wreck the
stylist had made of her office. Tucked in the corner of her loft
apartment the office was usually a testament to Callie’s almost
compulsive neatness. Now it looked as though someone had set off a
prêt à porter pipe bomb. Naysa had arrived in Maple Fork less than
an hour ago and swept through the office like a tiny cyclone,
strewing fabric swatches and sketches in her wake. Bryan still had
commitments in New York, so he had sent his “people” to help out
with the wedding plans. Callie had only been back in town for a
week and had been too busy to even think. Despite the arduous trip,
Naysa somehow managed to look as though she’d stepped out of a
magazine. Even her makeup was still immaculate. Her plaid
mini-skirt, combined with of all things, combat boots made her look
like a schoolgirl gone commando. Somehow on her it looked edgy and
trendy, not absurd. Callie shook her head, no wonder people paid
good money to have her dress them. The girl had to be some type of
fashion savant.
“Naysa, I don’t know why Bryan sent you here.
I don’t really need a stylist. I told you my Aunt Catherine is
going to make my dress.”
Naysa couldn’t suppress a shudder. This was
worse than she’d thought. “Callie, I hate to point this out to you,
but you cannot have a rock star wedding in a homemade dress. The
tabloids will eat you alive.” Naysa shook her head firmly, her
perfectly coiffed hair in its China Doll bob shimmered with the
movement before returning obediently to its place.
Callie sighed, studying Naysa’s small frame
from behind her desk. It seemed she was going to be condemned to a
lifetime of being “handled” by tiny women. “Naysa, on the day I was
born, my aunt promised to make my wedding dress. If you really
think I’m going to tell her otherwise, you’ve lost your mind.
Besides, the tabloids have already done their worst, don’t you
think?”
Naysa threw up her hands in defeat. How the
hell could she argue with that? Callie had already been
tabloid fodder. How much worse could Joan and Melissa be? “Fine,
Callie.”
Callie continued in a conciliatory tone, “Let
Armani dress Tonya and my sisters, they’ll be thrilled to death to
wear designer dresses.”
Naysa almost swallowed her tongue. Ask Armani
to dress the bridesmaids but not the bride? What a concept! Then
again, this was shaping up to be the wedding of the year, he might
go along with it. She shuddered again. Homemade and couture dresses
in the same wedding? Naysa mentally cursed Bryan. Friendship be
damned he was paying through the nose for this one. She moved over
to the desk where Callie was busily picking up the detritus of her
arrival. Maybe
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