Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
He smiled. “Thank you for the offer, but I must decline.”
I studied him for a long moment. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, but he talked like he was torn fresh out of a Victorian novel. No millennial was that serious. I bet he had tattoos under that tuxedo.
“I won’t tell your boss if you have a drink. Relax. I’m probably the easiest guest you’ll ever have.”
“Thank you, but I must decline.”
Hmm. He was going to be a tough nut to crack. I sipped my margarita. “You sure? It’s really good.”
“Positive, madam. I’m pleased you like it.”
“I guess I have everything I need then.”
He nodded. “If there’s anything else, you can ring the bell.” He pointedly tipped his gaze toward the antique end table.
I followed his stare to a small bell—so very Queen Elizabeth. “Okeydokey.”
After Mr. Purcell—I couldn’t call him that. It was too formal. He was Percy—After Percy left the sitting room—not quite sure where he went—I stared at the furniture.
A few minutes later I was slurping the last few drops out of my cocktail and crunching on the lime-flavored ice cubes. Not quite ready to head out into the world of traffic and bridal veils, I texted Hale.
This hotel is insane! I just housed a margarita at 10:23 in the morning. My butler made it. I have a butler!
It lost a little of the sheen when there was no response. I glanced at the time. Hale wouldn’t be landing for hours. Eyeing the bell, I considered asking Percy to make another margarita just so I could have his company again. I only hesitated because I didn’t want to be trashed when I left for Phina’s boutique.
Setting my glass aside, I drummed my fingers on the arm of the settee, debating if I should let Hale’s sister know I’d arrived. The moment she knew I was here it would be full-throttle wedding-gate for days, so it made more sense to procrastinate a while longer.
I picked up my phone and dialed the second contact on my speed dial
“Meyers,” Remington answered briskly. “Did you make it to the hotel in one piece?”
“Rodger dodger. How much does a place like this run a night?”
He gave a gruff laugh. “What did I tell you about price inquiries? A real man never brags about how much his luxuries cost. And a classy woman should automatically assume—whatever it is—she’s worth it.”
“But seriously, Remington, how much? Did you know the tub spigot is plated in fourteen-carat gold? Real gold!”
“Why aren’t you on your way to Madison Ave.?”
“My appointment’s not for an hour.”
“Oh, please. You’re family. Get your ass downstairs and have Martell run you over to Phina’s. New York isn’t in a penthouse. Get outside and experience it.”
“Hey, about Martell, where did you find him?”
“He’s Hale’s guy.”
“But you use him too, right?”
“When I’m in the city.”
“So, what do you know about him?”
“He’s a goddamn chauffer, Meyers. Why the hell would I want to know more than the fact that he knows his way around the city?”
I tsked. “Everyone has a story, Remington.”
“Some stories aren’t interesting or worth my time—or yours. For God’s sake, stop hanging around the staff and make real friends.”
“Remington, I’m staff.”
He grumbled, unable to argue with the truth. “Go shopping, Meyers. Try to do something ladylike for a change.”
I sighed. “Fine. Tell Odette I said hi.”
“She’s still in be—” He caught himself and grumbled again. “Tricky, Meyers.”
I grinned, relieved by the confirmation that he was in fact with Odette and things seemed back to normal where their relationship was concerned. “Bye, Remington.”
“Goodbye. Say hi to Phina for me.”
“You should call her and say hi yourself.”
“Goodbye, Meyers.”
“Call your daughter!” I hung up.
It was bride time.
When I stood, the alcohol had taken effect. “Whoa. Hey, Purce, do you have a bat phone that connects directly to my driver or should I just shoot him a text?” I wasn’t sure if there was some sort of chauffer-butler-etiquette or interconnected communication switchboard I wasn’t aware of. “Percy?”
Crickets.
“Mr. Purcell?”
I glanced at the bell and tapped it with two fingers.
“Yes, madam?” The butler appeared out of nowhere.
Too weird. I decided to play it up. “Be a darling and ring Mr. Sharoski to pull the car around. I will be leaving presently for my bridal appointment.”
He didn’t even flinch. “Yes, madam.”
A Garter is Not a Headpiece
“There’s my future sister!” Seraphina rushed to greet me the second I entered her posh boutique situated appropriately on Madison Ave.
I grunted as she flung her arms around me and propelled me toward an elegant display. “Hey, Phina.”
“I’m so excited you’re finally here!” she squealed as if anyone could have mistaken her enthusiasm for a lesser emotion. Excited might have actually been an understatement. “I’ve had gowns sent in from all over the world for you to try on.”
The boutique was her flagship store and her first brick and mortar location, but I assumed the Davenport name outfitted her with impressive collateral when it came to calling in favors with other designer brands. I wasn’t a designer girl—per se—but I knew who Oscar de la Renta and Vera Wang were.