The Bride's Curse by Glenys O'Connell

and avoided Noelia’s gaze.
    “Honey, I wouldn’t dream of leaving you! I couldn’t have the disaster you would get yourself into on my conscience.”
    “Thanks a lot.”
    “Actually, I’m visiting a friend later today and wanted to look smart. Anyway, we do have to talk. Now that you know there is a connection between Mary Atwell and the Cursed Bridal Gown, you have to do something about it.”
    “Like what? What would you have me do? I mean, I’d love to settle this. Our profits are getting slimmer by the day.”
    “My opinion? You have to be honest. First tell Brett what you’ve learned and what has happened to the women who’ve tried to wear that gown. See if he can get his aunt to take it back and hide it in her coven or whatever. Then tell Daria Welcome she must give it back—tell her you’ll get an even nicer one for her at no extra charge.”
    “Actually, I’ve tried that with Daria. No dice. And I should take responsibility for all this because?” Kelly was not happy at what she was hearing.
    “Because you should never have sold that dress again in the first place. Now that you know its full history you have a duty to protect other brides. Call Daria. Now!”
    Kelly chewed on her bottom lip. She’d rather crawl ten miles through the desert in full combat kit than deal with either Brett or Daria about that dress. “You know how much better you are with people than I am. Why don’t you call and talk to them?”
    “You know I love you and I’d walk through fire for you. But there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that I’m talking to these people about this. No. Never.”
    “Not even if I promise you a new coffee maker?” Kelly was prepared to beg.
    “Not even if it’s gold plated and sings ‘Come Back to Sorrento.’” Noelia folded her arms over her black clad chest, her expression stubborn. “You owe it to future brides who might want to wear that gown.”
    Kelly sighed and reached for the last chocolate cookie. “Okay, you’ve guilted me into it. I’ll make those calls right now.”
    “Oh, and Kelly?” Noelia swatted Kelly’s hand away and snatched up the cookie for herself. “Just don’t mention your little imaginary friend on the bench outside. Not everyone would be as understanding as I am. Some might think you’re crazy.”
    Ten minutes later Kelly was hiding out in the small rear room of the store, trying to work up the courage for a private conversation with Brett and then with Daria. “Think of the other women whose lives might be ruined if they choose that dress,” she reminded herself, holding up Daria Welcome’s card from the Rolodex. “Guess Daria is one of those brides.”
    She took a deep breath and dialed the number. It really didn’t go well.
    Daria said she was looking at a happy ever after that included the vintage wedding gown and she made it abundantly clear to Kelly she had no plans to give that up.
    “I’m sorry, I’m sure this old lady would like to have the dress back but hey, it’s not like she needs it for her wedding now, is it?” The realtor was adamant. “You said it yourself; this gown is perfect for me. It doesn’t even need alterations. Now I have this whole picture in my head of my wedding and I can see myself walking down the aisle at St. Christopher’s wearing the absolutely perfect dress, with Drake standing at the altar dazzled as he waits for me. No, there’s just no way I can return it. Tell the old dear I’m sorry.”
    Daria cut the telephone connection abruptly and left Kelly listening to dead air. She sighed. She hadn’t really expected Daria to agree to give up the dress. She’d searched and found another, in her eyes equally gorgeous, vintage dress, but the bride-to-be wouldn’t even look at it.
    Maybe if she hadn’t been so chicken and had gone to meet her customer face to face rather than over the telephone, she might have been able to persuade her to do an exchange. Something in Daria’s tone, however, made