Read Online Waking Sleeping Beauty by Laurie LeClair - Free Book Online Page B

She’s been a mother hen these last few days and I’m going stir crazy with nothing to do in this house all day.”
    Sitting across from her stepsister at the kitchen table, Francine cringed. “I thought Peg would have filled you in on the gory details already.”
    “Some, but she had to hang up fast before she could finish.” She sipped her tea.
    Francie sighed heavily and toyed with the china teacup in front of her. “I felt like a ten-year-old all over again. Mother assumes I’m now in her camp and is desperate enough to advertise for a groom. Of course, she commented on the boutique.”
    “Uh huh.”
    She nodded, feeling the sting of heat prick her cheeks. The hurtful words flooded back now. “Wrong colors. Too flashy. Where in the world are my manners? I should have done it this way or that way. Ah, I could go on and on. I’ll spare you.”
    “What, she didn’t ask you to play the piano again?”
    That had her chuckling. “Very funny.” She recalled how her mother would have her play for prospective grooms. “I think I scared away quite a few with that racket.”
    “You are pretty bad.”
    “You don’t have to rub it in, you know.”
    “I told you I had too much time on my hands.”
    Francie eyed her stepsister. Even though she still couldn’t keep much down, Charlie didn’t seem as fragile as she did at the office that last day. “Then can I ask you a favor?” She held up her hands. “It’s not too demanding and right up your alley.”
    “Ask away.”
    “Can you design the wedding dress? The one for the mystery wedding. I can’t find the one I want.”
    She frowned. “The ones you’ve tried on—none are close?”
    “Peg told you.”
    “Who better to model the wedding dresses for the new website and the online ads than you?”
    Trying on the pure silk dress with the sweetheart neckline and slight ruching earlier today didn’t make her feel like a criminal this time—at least she’d had permission to do so—but it fell flat of what she wanted for her own wedding dress. “I’ve got some ideas, if you’re interested.”
    “Count me in.” Charlie rubbed her hands together.
    Smiling, Francie quickly explained her thoughts, ticking off all the details she’d come to like. She ended with, “Classic, yet modern.”
    “You don’t want much, do you?” Her grin softened her words. “Don’t worry. I’ll work on a few sketches over the next couple of days and get back to you. Our secret.”
    “Do you think Dolly would sew it for us?” Francie gulped hard. “It’s the timing. No one else could do it in the time frame I need. Less than nine weeks away. I’ll never get an original in that short of time. And none of the rack or sample dresses are suited for what I have in mind.” She stopped babbling and held her breath.
    Her stepsister tapped her fingers on the table. “Hmmm. I may just be able to convince her. If I start sketching, she’ll want to know what I’m doing. She is kind of disappointed I’ve had to put my design business on hold until I get someone permanently on board at King’s and have a healthy baby.” She rubbed the nonexistent bump on her belly. “Yes, she loves a challenge. But mums the word for now.”
    “Here we are,” Dolly cried, rushing into the room. “Look what I found on our doorstep.”
    Glancing up quickly at the woman’s sudden reappearance, Francine’s jaw dropped at the sight of the man following Charlie’s cook and friend. “Marcus,” she squeaked out. She hadn’t spoken to him since the big reveal and confrontation earlier in the week. By all accounts, they’d avoided each other, he to run the store and her to keep up with the high demand for her talents as wedding consultant.
    He drew back. “Francine.” He shot her a guarded look. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” His voice could freeze water.
    “No such thing,” Dolly chimed in, pushing him toward the table. “Just like family, honey. You sit and visit while I finish up