Orange Blossom Brides. Tara Randel. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Tara Randel
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472039132
Скачать книгу
would definitely upset her well-organized life. Even, if she didn’t factor in the old anger at how that night had ended, he’d made it clear he would only attend Tie the Knot in a security capacity. She rubbed her temples.

      And second, right signals? Lilli regarded the older woman with surprise. She hardly seemed the type of woman with...experiences. Not that Lilli would ask.

      “Oh, I know what you’re thinking,” Mrs. Rumpold said. The historical society secretary had to be seventy if she was a day. “I may be a bit worn around the edges, but there are a few tried-and-true tricks to catch a man’s eye.” At least five inches shorter than Lilli and two times as wide with a halo of short, curly gray hair, there was clearly more to Mrs. Rumpold than met the eye.

      “Mrs. Rumpold, what are you suggesting?”

      “Please, call me Mrs. R.” The older woman gave a saucy grin, as if she were about to reveal some truly juicy secrets. “And I’m not suggesting anything. I’m saying. First of all, there’s the eye wink. Make sure you wear lots of mascara to make a statement. Next, the finger wave.” She demonstrated, and Lilli suppressed a groan.

      “And the hair flip,” Mrs. R. continued. “Shows your fun, flirtatious side.” With a flick of the wrist she tossed her silvery curls. Since they were permed tight, not much happened, but Lilli got the idea.

      “It works every time,” Mrs. R. intoned with sage wisdom.

      Lilli held back a smile. Maybe in the nineteen-fifties, but not today. Today if she did that, people would think she had serious problems. And besides, she had no interest in catching a man’s eye right now.

      “I can’t imagine any single men able to resist a lovely young woman such as you.”

      Yeah, Lilli knew that by the oodles of men lined up at her door. Right now she only concentrated on her job. The promotion. The added headache of the charity event. She had enough on her plate—she didn’t need Max Sanders. He’d directed his smoky gaze at her once before, and she’d melted on the spot. Look where that had gotten her. She wouldn’t let it happen again.

      But for a split second she’d wondered if he would find her attractive after all these years. Would he even want to flirt with her again? No. Not after the way she’d turned him in that night at the beach. She couldn’t change the past any more than he could, but his reaction when he’d recognized her said he definitely didn’t want anything to do with her.

      “The display wedding dresses will be arriving this weekend.” Mrs. R. changed the subject as she rambled on. Her wrinkled face beamed with pleasure. “What a stroke of luck that you know the curator of the vintage collection. I’m sure you can’t wait to see the how they look.”

      Actually, wedding dresses weren’t high on her priority list at that moment in time. Hard to get excited when she’d been dumped the night before her wedding, not to mention that she wasn’t even dating at the moment.

      Mrs. R. jabbered on. “They will be exhibited here all spring and summer. We were so fortunate to get vintage gowns from the private collection of Renata Ogilvy. What a boost for the society. Your mother pulled out the stops this year.”

      “Yes, she did,” Lilli agreed, more overwhelmed than impressed. But then, her mother often rubbed elbows with high-profile people like Renata, a retired fashion designer who had set the New York fashion scene on fire during her heyday.

      Even though her mother knew the designer, Lilli had a connection to the curator, Gabrielle, an old friend from college. When her mother first thought up the wedding show, she’d batted around some ideas with Lilli. Since Lilli kept in touch with Gab and knew she worked for Renata, she offered to get in touch. After a few calls, Lilli got the go-ahead to showcase priceless vintage gowns, Renata’s own along with other famous designers’, from Renata’s private collection. She’d thought that would be the end of her involvement with the benefit. Until her mother had left town.

      “Oh, before I forget.” Mrs. R. thrust a full-to-overflowing accordion folder at Lilli, who barely caught it, glossy photos spilling onto the already messy desk. As she gathered them together, a flurry of lace and satin bridal designs dredged up an interest she refused to acknowledge. “Keep the file so you can give it a look-see. You’ll need the pictures when you write up the fashion show fliers and program.”

      “When I what?”

      “Your mother didn’t get that far before she left on her emergency, so you’ll have to do it. It’s all right there on the list.” The older woman tapped the paper she’d clipped to the side of the file. “You already do that for your day job, don’t you?”

      She nodded. Lilli did media research on products and wrote up reports, sometimes put together descriptive brochures or information booklets for clients and worked to find ways to best promote her clients. Besides being involved through her contact with Gab and the designer gowns, she’d done some of the publicity for Tie the Knot at her mother’s request, playing up the charity and the chance to view one-of-a-kind wedding gowns and exquisite jewelry.

      “There are also ideas for the reception decorations in there. You know, flowers and doodads that make up the whole wedding experience.”

      “I have to plan a mock reception, too?”

      “Oh, yes,” Mrs. R. nodded.

      Please. Like she wanted to do that all over again.

      “Some of the ladies have opinions, but your mother has been cutting ideas out of magazines for months now.” Mrs. R. leaned closer to Lilli, her tone conspiratorial. “A word of warning—Marisa Vandermere wanted to fill in as coordinator, but your mother turned her down. She’s not happy about that. She’ll most likely think she’s still in charge, because, well, she’s Marisa. Don’t let her railroad you. We’re on a tight schedule. The benefit is less than three weeks away.” Mrs. R. nodded at the file. “Everything you need to complete the fashion show is in the file.”

      Great. She had to coordinate dresses, write fliers and plan an entire reception in just three weeks while trying to get a promotion at work. Now she had to work with her childhood nemesis, as well?

      What have you gotten me into, Mom?

      Lilli closed her eyes. She couldn’t renege now, not when her mother needed her. Just as Lilli had needed Celeste the night of the rehearsal dinner, doing damage control and canceling the wedding after Lilli fled the scene, demoralized beyond words. Yes, her mother had come through for her when Lilli needed her most. So she’d do the same as stand-in coordinator. Once the entire event ended, she’d go back to focusing entirely on her job.

      With a sigh Lilli glanced at her watch. Just past ten. Her boss had given her this morning to deal with historical society business, but he wouldn’t be too pleased if she screwed up the Canine Candy presentation for the Natural Puppy account.

      “Is there anything else, Mrs. Rumpold?”

      “Mr. Sanders will be here tomorrow to test the security system. I’m assuming he told you.”

      “He did. I can’t be here, but he is going to drop off a proposal I’ll need to read.” She couldn’t afford to take more time off. And, she admitted, she didn’t want to be around Max unless absolutely necessary.

      Coward. Yeah, there was that, too.

      Mrs. R.’s face went all dreamy. “I’ll make sure he leaves it here.”

      Lilli blinked, then hid a smile. Someone had a crush.

      “And don’t forget the event committee meeting. Nine o’clock Saturday morning. At the club.”

      Of course. The club. She’d stayed far away from that place, hoping distance would dilute the miserable memories of the night Rob had dumped her. Time had anesthetized her heart, but her mind still carried the images as if they’d occurred yesterday.

      “I’ll be there” she replied glumly, before escaping to work.

      * * ** * *