Read Online THAT MAN 5 (The Wedding Story-Part 2) by Nelle L'Amour - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nelle L'Amour
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many last minute wedding details to attend to, including meeting with Blake’s rabbi…a wedding cake taste-testing…a meeting with the bandleader to go over our playlist… applying for a marriage license…and going for Monique Hervé’s final dress fitting as well as Chaz’s first one. Last not but least, there were also all those thank you notes to write. The wedding gifts kept pouring in. The final headcount was at 1150!
On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, which we celebrated at Blake’s parents’ house, I was going to meet Chaz downtown for my first dress fitting. I couldn’t wait to see what he’d designed. He knew the vintage look I wanted but had been very secretive, wanting to surprise me when it was close to finalized. At the crack of dawn, I got a call. With Blake still sound asleep, I reached for my cell phone on the nightstand. It was Chaz.
“Jenny-Poo, it’s gone,” he said, before I could even say hi. His voice sounded frantic.
I bolted upright to a sitting position. “Chaz, what are you talking about?”
“Your dress. There was a fire in the studio last night. Everything was destroyed.”
“Oh my God!” I said the three words so loudly I woke up Blake.
“Baby, what’s going on?” he asked groggily.
“Chaz, sweetie, hold on.” I turned to Blake and told him the news. He was almost as devastated as I was. I returned my attention to Chaz.
“Chaz, where are you?”
“I’m here at the studio. You wouldn’t believe what it looks like.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Chaz, who had always been there for me, needed my moral support. Though Blake insisted on going downtown with me, I told him to stay put. In five minutes, I was dressed and out the door.
*
Libby and Jeffrey were already at Chaz’s studio. Or should I say former studio. We stood in a line like four zombies taking in the damage. It was worse than I’d imagined. In addition to the smut-covered walls and charred bolts of fabric, the fire department had gutted and flooded the loft-like space to put out the fire. The studio was a shell of what it had been with puddles of water everywhere and exposed wires and beams. And it was still smoking.
“Do they know what caused the fire?” A dark thought crossed my suspicious mind. Did Enid or Monique possibly set it? I wouldn’t put it past those two wicked women to do something so evil. Or did Kat have something to do with it from wherever she was to get back at me? That psychopath was capable of anything.
Chaz twisted his lips. “The fire department determined it was definitely due to an electrical short. The wiring in this old building is not up to code.”
“That’s awful,” I murmured, relieved that none of those horrid women had anything to do with it. But it didn’t make things any better.
My stinging eyes gravitated to a blackened mannequin in the corner. On it were charred remnants of tulle and lace. The dress was burnt beyond recognition. My heart sunk. My fairy-tale gown had gone up in smoke. It belonged in a morgue.
Chaz followed my gaze. “Oh, Jenny-Poo. It was so beyond.”
“Maybe you can make another one,” chirped Libby, the optimist, before I could utter a word.
Chaz’s shoulders slumped. “I wish, but not a fat chance in hell. I have to find a temporary studio, deal with the insurance company, and then replace all the samples for my upcoming Spring line. Plus, it would take over a month to get the imported fabrics I used. Oh, my Jenny-Poo, I’m so sorry.”
Masking my disappointment, I wrapped my arm around Chaz’s deflated shoulders. “Chaz, shit happens. The most important thing is you’re okay.”
Jeffrey clasped my despondent friend’s hand. “Honey, I’m going to be there for you. Maybe, I’ll do a small fundraiser and invite your top clients and our friends to get things going.”
“Count me in.” I smiled for the first time, grateful that Chaz finally had a significant other in his life who genuinely loved him.
On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, which we celebrated at Blake’s parents’ house, I was going to meet Chaz downtown for my first dress fitting. I couldn’t wait to see what he’d designed. He knew the vintage look I wanted but had been very secretive, wanting to surprise me when it was close to finalized. At the crack of dawn, I got a call. With Blake still sound asleep, I reached for my cell phone on the nightstand. It was Chaz.
“Jenny-Poo, it’s gone,” he said, before I could even say hi. His voice sounded frantic.
I bolted upright to a sitting position. “Chaz, what are you talking about?”
“Your dress. There was a fire in the studio last night. Everything was destroyed.”
“Oh my God!” I said the three words so loudly I woke up Blake.
“Baby, what’s going on?” he asked groggily.
“Chaz, sweetie, hold on.” I turned to Blake and told him the news. He was almost as devastated as I was. I returned my attention to Chaz.
“Chaz, where are you?”
“I’m here at the studio. You wouldn’t believe what it looks like.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Chaz, who had always been there for me, needed my moral support. Though Blake insisted on going downtown with me, I told him to stay put. In five minutes, I was dressed and out the door.
*
Libby and Jeffrey were already at Chaz’s studio. Or should I say former studio. We stood in a line like four zombies taking in the damage. It was worse than I’d imagined. In addition to the smut-covered walls and charred bolts of fabric, the fire department had gutted and flooded the loft-like space to put out the fire. The studio was a shell of what it had been with puddles of water everywhere and exposed wires and beams. And it was still smoking.
“Do they know what caused the fire?” A dark thought crossed my suspicious mind. Did Enid or Monique possibly set it? I wouldn’t put it past those two wicked women to do something so evil. Or did Kat have something to do with it from wherever she was to get back at me? That psychopath was capable of anything.
Chaz twisted his lips. “The fire department determined it was definitely due to an electrical short. The wiring in this old building is not up to code.”
“That’s awful,” I murmured, relieved that none of those horrid women had anything to do with it. But it didn’t make things any better.
My stinging eyes gravitated to a blackened mannequin in the corner. On it were charred remnants of tulle and lace. The dress was burnt beyond recognition. My heart sunk. My fairy-tale gown had gone up in smoke. It belonged in a morgue.
Chaz followed my gaze. “Oh, Jenny-Poo. It was so beyond.”
“Maybe you can make another one,” chirped Libby, the optimist, before I could utter a word.
Chaz’s shoulders slumped. “I wish, but not a fat chance in hell. I have to find a temporary studio, deal with the insurance company, and then replace all the samples for my upcoming Spring line. Plus, it would take over a month to get the imported fabrics I used. Oh, my Jenny-Poo, I’m so sorry.”
Masking my disappointment, I wrapped my arm around Chaz’s deflated shoulders. “Chaz, shit happens. The most important thing is you’re okay.”
Jeffrey clasped my despondent friend’s hand. “Honey, I’m going to be there for you. Maybe, I’ll do a small fundraiser and invite your top clients and our friends to get things going.”
“Count me in.” I smiled for the first time, grateful that Chaz finally had a significant other in his life who genuinely loved him.
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