“If we dress the entire Brantley-Varnell bridal party, it’ll be our biggest wedding ever and something to celebrate,” she hedged.
“Good.” Bill leaned back. “I’ll take you to dinner.”
“I’ll let you know—”
“No, Beth Ann.” His smile was an intriguing promise. “I’ll let you know.”
1
UNSTRUNG
“THE NEW SYSTEM SEEMS to be working. So far, no glitches.”
Lia Wainright smiled in satisfaction at the comment from her boss, Elizabeth Gray, owner of Elizabeth Gray Bridal Salon. Honest to Pete, she’d been trying to get the woman to go electronic for the past two years.
Elizabeth was all about elegance and class and to her, nothing said class like the thick bridal-white paper she and her staff used to write up orders or “record selections.”
Lia got the whole upscale theme. And she agreed that the tone of a bridal salon influenced which designers would allow their gowns to be sold there, but maintaining the appearance of class and sophistication so important to Elizabeth Gray had become problematic. Lia didn’t think the payoff was worth it. The thick paper they used for orders took up a surprising amount of file space. The copier didn’t like thick paper, either. And all the information had to be duplicated onto an order form because the paper was too thick to make multiple copies.
The extra steps had caused errors more than once. Elizabeth caught most of the mistakes because she knew the design and stock number of every dress she carried. They should be doing so much business that Elizabeth couldn’t memorize all the numbers.
Elizabeth felt electronics weren’t elegant. But then Lia had found these beautifully sleek silver and charcoal-gray electronic-input tablets and carefully and painstakingly introduced them to her boss.
Why did it matter to Lia whether or not Elizabeth Gray Bridal Salon went electronic? Because efficiency meant increased stock turnover, which meant more profit, which meant eventually, Elizabeth Gray would need help. Lia’s goal was to provide that help and, ultimately, become a partner.
Elizabeth Gray had the ideal setup here in Rocky Falls, Texas. Lia was that rarest of people—a Rocky Falls native. Her parents owned the Wainright Inn, a local institution that had seen its share of weddings over the years.
Lia liked Rocky Falls, the Hill Country weather, the scenery and the artsy shops catering to weekend tourists. This was where she wanted to live, and she wanted to support herself away from her parents. Working at the Wainright had been great for after school and summers between college, but Lia needed to prove she could develop a business on her own. The salon wasn’t hers, but she’d been Elizabeth’s first employee, and immediately had seen the potential.
The falls and the carefully lush landscaping of the park surrounding them were an increasingly popular choice for outdoor weddings. Elizabeth had the right idea to have a high-end bridal salon in the area and it was genius to partner with Tuxedo Park, the formal-wear store next door.
But Lia knew they could do better.
“The staff has made the transition to the input tablets without any problems,” Lia assured her boss. Input tablets sounded more elegant than remote terminals.
The staff, all but one members of the iPod generation, had been thrilled to abandon the pen and paper. They’d made the transition in a matter of minutes.
“Another week or so and I think we can forgo paper backup,” Elizabeth said.
Lia merely nodded. Elizabeth thought they were still using the pen and paper and then entering the information in their units, but Lia had been printing backups from the computer—not exactly what Elizabeth had in mind.
Elizabeth was being overly cautious. Inefficient. And so help her, a bit of a fuddy-duddy for somebody only in her early thirties.
She needed to loosen up and she needed to loosen up with Bill—William—her partner, the owner of Tuxedo Park. The man had it so bad for her and the toe-curling looks he gave her when he thought no one was watching made Lia bemoan the lack of eligible single men in Rocky Falls.
Where all these brides found all these men to marry was a mystery to Lia. But she wasn’t going to settle and she wasn’t going to worry about it. She was only twenty-five. She had plenty of time.
“Did you verify that all associates downloaded their information before they left for the day?” Elizabeth asked as she always did.
“Yes,” Lia replied, as she always did.
“Did you know we’re dressing the entire Brantley wedding?”
Lia had not known. “Even the mothers?” This was why she’d pushed for electronic efficiency.
“Even the grandmothers.” A rare smile of triumph creased Elizabeth’s face. “They made their final selections this afternoon. The whole wedding party will be wearing pinks ranging from touches of blush on the bridal gown to deep rose on the grandmothers. The photographs are going to be stunning.”
Lia’s heart actually started pounding. “That’s so great.” She was already visualizing advertising. The salon needed more big-ticket weddings like this. And an entire party willing to coordinate was every bridal designer and salon’s dream.
“Yes. It is. It really is.” Elizabeth exhaled and removed the scarf from around her neck.
All associates wore black suits and Elizabeth, and only Elizabeth, wore a tie or scarf. Lia had rarely seen her neck.
“We will monitor the selections very closely and I’m counting on you to impress upon the manufacturer how important this order is.”
She reached for her collar and unbuttoned the top button.
Whoa. And then she unbuttoned the second one, actually revealing a sliver of skin.
She caught Lia staring. “Too much?”
She was serious. The woman was so tightly wound she had doubts about showing two inches of skin.
“For…?”
“William is taking me to dinner to celebrate.”
Of course he was. Lia wished she could pour her boss into a sexy little black dress for the poor man.
“We’re going to the Wainright Inn—are your folks at home, or is your dad still off on the wine-buying trip?”
“He’s just back. Let me call them.” Lia whipped out her cell phone. “Soft-shell crab is in season and he found a great wine to go with it.”
“Oh, you don’t—”
Lia held up her hand. If she couldn’t get Elizabeth into the little black dress, then at least she could help William romance Elizabeth this way. “There’s a private party tonight, so I want to make sure they keep at least one bottle back for you.”
As she spoke to the Wainright sommelier she gestured that Elizabeth should undo one more button.
Elizabeth shook her head. “This isn’t a date. William and I will be discussing the vests and cravats he’ll have to order for the men. Naturally, we’ll want them made of the same fabric.”
Poor William.
Poor Elizabeth. Or Beth Ann, as he called her, except Lia knew better than to admit she knew that.
“Wear the lace jacket,” Lia surprised herself by saying after she closed her phone.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Wear the lace jacket,” Lia repeated. “Think of it as advertising. No one has ordered